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Now, he had to wait.

Camera coverage was likely to be just as extensive, if not worse in this part of the museum and so if he had to, Corbin would utilize the blood in his right glove. With a small cut in his wrist, a drop of blood would be enough to rejuvenate and animate that soaked into the material. He manipulate that blood, and have it seep into a camera if he had to. Though only one as too many would be suspicious. That blood would then expand with needles to pierce the inner workings of the wires under the insulation and harmlessly drip from the device.

It'd be perplexing to the guards for certain, though judging by their developing attitudes now, they'd likely see the fluid dripping, and organize a repair man at some point. Moisture damage, even if it looked like blood upon closer inspection.

That though was only if there was a camera that interfered with him entering the lab unseen. He'd have to be quick. No doubt the security office would radio in the fault with the camera, and the guard would investigate. He'd wait till the guard put the urn down, and lift it. he'd then impose the illusion of it still being there and provided all went well, make a break for the back entrance he'd come in through.

Corbin would find the museum's back rooms less well protected. Though cameras covered the main routes in and out, it was assumed theft would be of the main exhibits, not the sciency supplies out back.

To that end, he wouldn't need to balls about with cameras, and would at last be able to take the urn and book it, cautiously, back for the exit.



When he got outside, he'd find an ambulance in the main drive, and a familiar figure being loaded onto it. Eustace. The second guard Corbin had seen stood nearby, talking to the paramedics.

"That's right. He drank a red bull and started clutching at his chest. As far as I know, no history of heart problems in his family, but it wasn't like heartburn. That's why I checked on him every ten minutes, then started CPR when he collapsed...
He IS going to be ok, isn't he?"

"Just fine, thanks to you. Twenty minutes of heart massage is tiring. You should call your boss, and rest tonight. I'll have the hospital call you if anything else is needed."



Apparently... Eustace had been in cardiac arrest for at least twenty minutes prior to now.... how interesting....


"My urn, boy? I'd like it in ONE piece, please." It was lurking behind a tree, pink eyes flashing red in the moonlight as he moved, shifting his weight, but not coming forward.

At first confusion, then as he stood there almost dropping his illusory cover the Fledgling actually raised his palm to his face and sighed, cursing under his breath. Then he heard the aptly named b*****d, Deceit.

Turning to regard the Syn Corbin strolled casually off t'ward him vase in hand, dropping his illusory camouflage once in cover.

"Was that t' your likin' then?... Well done though, acceptin' me Chimerstry in teh exhibit."

He'd offer up the urn with one hand. Decidedly keeping his body at a distance.

"'alf expected you t' just drop it on teh pavement."

He didn't shrink away from the fingers on his chin, though perhaps it would have been wiser. Tzimi weren't the sort you wanted pinching your cheeks like grandma, unless you wanted a new deformed arm growing out of either of them.

"So in truth, sorry. I never expected this t' be anything noble."

Turning his chin out of hand then, he'd snap his boot heels together.

"Can I consider meself dismissed then?"

Cocking a brow as the fauny b*****d took his leave, Corbin scoffed and spat at the shadow in his wake. Finally letting the shiver run over his skin after that sweetheart comment. Patting himself down with a snarl as though someone had hit him with a handful of feces he turned, and while putting his patch back on, sped off for his bike, about ready for a smoke, some whiskey and a bath.

An address was all he had. A quick check on the ever faithful internet gave him directions, and then off he went, screaming down the road in standard form. ******** if he knew what the place was or why he was going, but hey, whatever worked.

Entering these grounds brought a moment of thought to Nine's head; quietly after parking he ensured that he was stripped of all but his holdout piece. It wouldn't do to be blatantly armed in an academics building. The rest could be left with his ride; it wasn't anything he couldn't replace if someone got frisky.

The big trick was figuring out where to go. He didn't remember the doctor's name, but he did remember Roan mentioning geneticists. Odds were that was the point of the address, so to the genetics wing he would drift.