<div class="floatleft">(http://i548.photobucket.com/albums/ii331/Nolifeking_photos/cute-blonde-emo-hairstyles-53.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">Glamorous</span></span><br/><em>Blonde Fashionista, Petite Titan</em><br/><strong>STR:</strong>8<strong>SPE:</strong>0<strong>INT:</strong>2<br/><strong>DUR:</strong>4<strong>AGL:</strong>0<strong>PER:</strong>2<br/><br/><strong>~The League HQ~</strong><br/><br/>You know that feeling, the one where you felt like everyone's eyes were on you and not in a good way?  Like you had walked out the front door and forgotten to put on some pants?  Or that feeling like you were gum on the underside of someone's shoes and they were about to scrape you off in another second?  Or the last, unwanted, greasy french fry that no one wanted to eat when you ate out?<br/><br/>Yep, that feeling.  You know what I'm talking about.<br/><br/>At least, Nicole certainly did.  The gap between her shoulder blades itched with that sensation when someone was contemptuously gazing at you as you went by.  Well, it<em>felt</em>that way at the very minimum.  She currently was too busy scrambling to silence her phone to see if anyone was actually paying any attention to her.  Though anyone gazing at her might have been amused by how tightly her Gucci jeans rode up against her rear; they almost looked pasted on given to how tightly they clung to her hips, made even tighter by the position she was currently taking.  And if one looked closer, they would have seen the hint of something pink and lacy that peeked out from where her tee slipped upward to expose the skin of her lower back.<br/><br/>Thankfully, she was under the table so no one could see how beet red her face was as she continued to pat around for her iPhone.  Although, she did realize that it might be a little easier to see it if she took a moment to push the Prada sunglasses perched on her face up away from her eyes.  It was quite dark between the conference table.  Though even in the darkness, the contrasting heels of the Countess and Milady stood out along with their respective personalities.  Milday's being an icy white that almost to glow softly, but with her legs held in complete stillness.  As like some kind of mannequin instead of a living, breathing person.  While the Countess sported a pair of brightly colored cherry red heels, polished so brightly that Glamorous could almost see her own reflection in them.  They were also quite still, except for the occasional impatient bob that issued as her thighs crossed and uncrossed periodically, giving the sense of a pool of coiled energy waiting for the chance to be unleashed on the next unsuspecting, hapless fool that dared challenge her.<br/><br/>As for the other two, well, both Landon and the Incubus seemed to be fans of black, which meant Nicole had as much of a chance seeing their shoes as she did in paying off all her credit cards in the next three years.<br/><br/>Thankfully, the screen still emitted a soft glow as her face brightened when she saw it.  But as she reached--it suddenly jumped towards her and startled her as she jerked her head and knocked it against the table with a loud rap, holding back a curse.  Inspecting the damage she might have caused, another curse was swallowed as she felt along the surface.  Ironically, her head was fine; however, the bottom of the table now sported a crack from the impact, a testimony to the monstrous strength she now possessed.  Of course, the bright side was that no one would probably ever check beneath the table so this would be her little secret.<br/><br/>Of course, those were thoughts for another time.  Grabbing ahold of the phone, Nicole quickly pressed the button to mute it before a silent, quavering sigh of relief was given. Overhead, the Countess began to outline her plan for the theft of the Rubric Scarab and who should take what role as Glamorous made sure to listen intently.  Then, she looked to see where the number was from.  Upon seeing it, her expression became inscrutable and hooded, which was very different from her norm.  And against all her better judgment, she pressed the button once more to receive the call as she spoke in low, hushed tones so her voice wouldn't carry.<br/><br/><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"...you know that I don't like..."  "...uh-huh.  Right."  "...I know I'm late." "...yes, I know that this is the third time."...yes, I understand." "...the money will be there.  Don't worry."  "...I'll send it right after this.  I'm in the middle of a meeting."</span></em>Another long pause was given.<em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"...howishe?"</span></em>The words were spoken so softly and quickly that they were barely intelligible.  But whoever was on the other end of the line seemed to understand her question.  And whatever the answer was, it seemed to satisfy her as her face once again relaxed.<em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"...good, good.  Tell him..."</span></em>Her voice faltered once again before it became firmer.<em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"Tell him I love him.  Got to go.  Bye."</span></em>And with that, she hung up.  And then she made sure the phone was set to silent as she slowly extracted herself from beneath the table and back into her seat almost sheepishly.<br/><br/>Amazingly, she had managed to both follow along with what Dione Laprade had said while she had been having her phone conversation.  Of course, Glamorous wasn't convinced the Order was that stupid.  Why bring out such a valuable and vulnerable item?  And how would seeing some jewel beetle inspire the people of Ursa City?  It would have been a lot smarter if the Rubric Scarab being put on display were a fake and the effect would have been the same; the League still would come.<br/><br/>But all her doubts were kept privately to herself.  You didn't question the boss' plan; it wasn't very smart business sense.  Especially not after her little fiasco just  few moments ago.  One look at the Countess' face let Glamorous know that she'd have to be on her best evil behavior to stay in her good graces.  And Nicole definitely wanted that; the reward being offered for this mission was hefty.  So instead, a brief nod was given in agreement to the plan.  "Sounds fabulous."<br/><br/>Looking over to Milady de Winter, Nicole put on a winsome smile once more as she slid her chair over to the other woman without any regards to her personal space and leaned in conspiratorially as she tilted the Prada shades down the bridge of her nose.  "So, what do you think?  Matching colors to the party?  I've got a stunning white dress from Marc Jacobs."  A pause was given before she gave a thoughtful purse to her lips.  "Or a little black number I just picked up from online at the Row.  I've been dying to wear that one."  Her green eyes almost sparkled as she seemed more interested in discussing clothing coordination as opposed to how they would deal with the security guards.<br/><br/>Though that might have also spoken concerning the almost foolhardy confidence she had in their respective abilities.