<div class="floatleft">(http://i1264.photobucket.com/albums/jj499/MzHyde/Character%20Portraits/Tilly2.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Street Name:</strong>Tracy Grimm<br/><strong>Sex/Metatype/Archetype:</strong>Female Human Grifter<br/><strong>Attributes:</strong>Charisma and Willpower, Agility and Reaction<br/><strong>Skills:</strong>Social, Technical<br/><strong>Ethnicity/Age/Orientation:</strong>Caucasian, 20's, bisexual<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong><br/><br/>Grimm had thought about a hundred different ways to approach the situation. It was something she tended to do. Analyze and think about every possible outcome and result before attempting to do anything. It was fun for her, a game. A game she played to win. Tuxedo's had a nasty 'no weapons' policy that she rather disliked. Grimm wasn't the most capable fighter out there, but she could still be a mean shot and she hated to be without a way to defend herself. She also didn't care for the place's hoity-toity dress policy. She'd bluffed her way into places wearing her usual garb before and had a knack for holding an air about her that said 'I belong here' even when her dress made her stick out like a sore thumb. It was something she'd learned a long time ago, it was a way of carrying oneself that made it so people rarely second-guessed your purpose, even if what you'd just told them was an outright lie and would fall apart if given even a moment's thought.<br/><br/>Still, she respected her Fixer and her rules, so she was fairly conflicted. She'd briefly considered slipping in the back and bluffing the bouncer to slip into the room. Or she could've gone in the front, dressed nice, raised a big stink.<br/><br/>"Don't you know who I am?! You aren't getting my weapon! I'm Constance Nightengale, you half-witted clod! I just earned more money arguing with you in the last thirty seconds than you'll make in your entire life!" she could've said, pretending to be some high-ranking businesswoman, "What's your name?! I'll have you fired! You won't be able to stand guard at a soup kitchen when I'm done with you! Now let me in and I'd better get a free drink while you're at it!"<br/><br/>That would've been fun. She could come up with a hell of a story if she needed to. Indignant rage often left people dumbfounded and willing to do whatever it took to just get the yelling to stop. It was great with anything other than high-end military types. Hardened military brutes sometimes had the discipline to keep focused and see through it. Then again, with the right getup anything was possible.<br/><br/>In the end, though, Tracy just decided to play it straight out of respect for her Fixer. It was always fun to cause trouble but she didn't feel like taking a chance and screwing up an opportunity for some good money. So she arrived, dressed in black slacks and shiny black dress shoes, a black vest with a white dress shirt on under it, and a red 'power tie'. The more masculine getup was the complete and total opposite of One Shot's sexy ensemble, but Grimm had a way of making it work. She looked confident, intimidating, like she knew exactly why people were looking her way.<br/>All part of the act, of course. Though that wasn't to say her confidence wasn't real.<br/><br/>After dropping off her weapons, she headed to the back to where the meeting was to take place. "Here to see Mr. F," she said, within sufficient distance so she wouldn't even have to break stride as the bouncer raised the velvet rope and granted her access.<br/>