<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>All<br/><br/>"Taéngelé," Tracy finished. Sweet with a surprising kick. It was how Tracy might describe herself. The grifter eyed her companions, the woman that was already present and those that filed in after she did. She didn't have any opinion of them at the moment, but she was fairly sure they were at<em>least</em>skilled enough to be proper meat shields for the job. One never could tell how things would go so it was always best to plan for the worst.<br/><br/>When Findley got down to dealing, Grimm furrowed her brows in disgust. It was hard to tell if it was genuine or if she was taking him for a ride. The redhead leaned forward, pressing her palms to the table, making certain to raise her hips just slightly to put her ass on better display. She'd seen how he eyed up all the women that had come in and figured if his gaze were directed to their curves, blood would be flowing to places other than his brain. She didn't much care to use her curves to get the better end of a deal, but it was a valid tactic when the time was right.<br/><br/>"Five thousand?!" she scoffed, "C'mon, that's a thousand for each of us. It might be only one night's work, but I'm willin' to bet we could each make more than that on our own. I know I damn well could with the right score. I think you'd better sweeten the pot a bit, Mr. F, if you want this job done right. You know our reputations, after all. As you said yourself, a lotta people die in this line of work. You want quality work done? You have to pay for it." Tracy straightened up, motioning around the room to her companions, "It doesn't have to be currency. I'm sure all of us need somethin' that you could easily provide. Look at it this way; you want it done tonight and done<em>right</em>, you're going to have to go with us."<br/><br/>As much as Findley might hate to admit it, Tracy was right. Getting another team together would probably be a hassle on such short notice, especially if he wanted a competent bunch, which he most certainly did, considering the apparent effort he'd gone to in finding them all.<br/><br/>"You want to know more? I'm sure you've heard the rumors on me. If you want us in that place with a minimum of fuss, leave it to me. I can talk us in, break us in, and quiet anyone in our way. I can talk a legless man into entering a marathon and with enough planning, I could make him<em>win</em>. Or at least make you<em>think</em>he'd won. If you want proof of my manual dexterity.."<br/><br/>Reaching back, Tracy pulled a billfold out of her pocket and tossed it on the table. She motioned with a tilt of her head to the doorway.<br/><br/>"I picked that off the goon by the door while he was busy checking out my ass."