The foundation that Stone Harbor Theater stood upon was part of a larger entertainment complex built in the 1890s by James Edric LeBreton and his business associate Sante Duvalier. At the time, both men owned a nearby port, and with international shipments arriving and profits expanding, they purchased the land around the harbor to create their very own tourist destination.
The complex included the brick-red Salistine Palace (a portmanteau of Salina and Christine, names the founders' wives), now serving as a boutique hotel. An Aviary and Winter Gardens sat directly behind the vermilion building, opposite of a concert hall and theater. And dotted about the two main attractions was a commerce area equipped with a pub, barber shop, candy store, and restaurant.
Beginning from 1933, the buildings came under disrepair and all of Stone Harbor closed by 1957. Today it housed a small town of misfits, and from them flowed new life after nearly sixty years in torpor.
This was, pertaining to the rules of hiding in plain sight, presently the headquarters of an international crime syndicate. Some connoisseurs of acronyms have dubbed a 'VILE' brand to the gang of thieves. Perpetuated by popular media, the name stuck. And where it was written by that one famous poet and paraphrased by so many romantics in the English-speaking world; "A rose by any other name..." was still a humble organization under a capable leader.
Said leader was now doing what she did best, inspiring the people she internally labeled as her family. Particularly successful events produced enough bonuses to fill everyone's pockets. And it was voted, democratically, that a manner of 'lazing around' was appropriate before another gathering and consequent preparation for the next big heist.
The meeting disbanded and Carmen Sandiego concluded that, for the duration of the next planning stages, she would remain at Stone Harbor.
Doctor Acton Roux was in his alloted laboratory while the esteemed leader, @Carmen Sandiego, completed her meeting with the more field-related members of their organisation.
Acton was a man of many skills, but fieldwork and heist-pulling was not one of them. He was a behind the scenes man, adept in resources acquisition and, upon matters pertaining to medical means, an uncanny researcher.
His primary goal in VILE was to sustain health, the health of his peers, the health of the henchmen, and of utmost importance, the health of their leader. He worked not alone, but with a team of physicians, nutritionists, and specialists; all of whom work as a separate entity. They are not officially employed as VILE, for no one truly was. And Dr. Roux's paycheck, when it does appear, is signed by a nondescript German company.
"The meeting ended, Acton," A field physician dropped by to report about the bonuses and rest period. This was good news, and he may spend this time finishing off a side research project. He would, of course, have to speak first to the lady in red.
Soft purple shoes walked at a steady pace through the corridors of the old theatre; a soft whistle broke the silence as the flamboyantly dressed Jester inspected the halls enroute to his destination. Everywhere Joe looked, the recently restored building seemed to brim with a new life and dignity.
Satisfied with the quality of the restoration, the Jester approached the main doors of the auditorium; gloved hands carefully perused the gold-plated handles and the intricate carvings that lined the heavy wooden doors. Slowly, the doors opened to reveal a sight that could rival Carnegie Hall.
Beautiful plush seating with ample leg room, matching burgundy carpet, perfectly finished wooden railings and banisters befitting of the poshest mansions, a grand stage capable of putting on even the largest broadway productions and to top it all off, perfect climate control to ensure a comfortable and luxurious experience.
Truly, the auditorium was a sight to behold; the only problem was that no one was there to appreciate it yet.
The stage however, was in stark contrast to the rest of the auditorium, a bustle of activity. Joe sighed as he approached said stage and the fifteen or so henchmen on it.
Being one of the more 'dramatic' members of the VILE family, Joe had received the unenviable task of putting on the first local production for the reopening of the theatre. Being lacking in professional thespians, Joe had been forced to resort to enlisting the few henchmen who considered themselves broadway's missing star. Among these were a couple of grifters who, to their credit, were doing an admirable job. The rest however gave a new meaning to the term 'cringeworthy'.
Joe looked on at the debacle going on in front of him and briefly wondered how many times Shakespeare had already rolled around in his grave since this rehearsal had started.
Quietly swinging along the catwalks, Omar resolved to stick to the shadows for now. Although he had been vaguely admitted to the league in an unofficial capacity, the lanky man's first instinct was to stay out of sight. Besides, below him, someone else was taking the center stage.
Omar hooked his legs into a girder, and dangling upside down, rested a few minutes to observe the assembly of an act, marshaled by a figure concealed in a jester costume. With a wry grin, Omar refrained from heckling, and instead resumed his exercise. Superficially, the production resembled the sort of dry slapstick he tended to employ while working a mark, although Omar suspected these motions weren't as intentionally calibrated as his own.
It'd been a while since Vincent Fumigalli had seen this many agents in Stone Harbor. When it was first under construction, there was lot of uncertainty surrounding the project. With that vague thing that happened between ACME and VILE a few years ago, hiding in hiding wasn't always the best thing.
Vic moved around among entertainers and showmen, his favorite kind of people. Among them, he spotted @Omar, the new guy and waved in a half salute.
"Did they get you settled into the Actors' Quarters yet?" He asked casually.
Far beneath the theater, through a winding set of half-forgotten corridors, there was a large room that was, at present, the residence of one Dr. Sara Bellum, chief scientist and tinkerer of VILE. Diagrams and blueprints lay scattered like a tornado had blown them about, bits of metal and wire rested on every available surface, and illumination came from monitors interspersed throughout. Machinery whirred and electronics hummed in anticipation of work, and the smell of the sea invaded from the side tunnel that led to the observation post over subterranean harbor in which the MAMBA was currently docked.
Walking in, Sara pulled the string that made the few bare lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling flare to life. Already dressed for work in her stained lab coat and goggles, she walked over to her primary workbench and sat down, glancing over the blueprints she had scribbled over the past few weeks. She felt the need to build something, rather than conceptualize, but what would she build?
Sighing, she turned around in her chair and steepled her fingers, starting to speak to the empty room. "So, we are to be stuck here." She, as it turned out, had been one to vote against staying in Stone Harbor, having much preferred the idea of being on the move, but she had been outvoted. "That is just the most lovely thing ever. I will need to salt-proof my room, I suppose. I cannot have my equipment getting damaged by an errant sea breeze. I do not even know what the thing I should be working on next is. Yes, it is indeed the most lovely thing."
Spinning back around in her chair to her desk, she eyed the blueprints again. "Boring, boring, very pedestrian, scientifically impossible without a cold fusion battery, terrible in the wrong hands, and boring. Admit it, Sara, you need a new project. Something big, something different." She paused, and a large, somewhat disturbing smile grew on her face. "Perhaps a little side job is in order."
[BCOLOR=transparent] The rapid-fire pounding of Eartha Brute’s biker boots against the hardwood floors echoed throughout the corridors. The majestic beauty of the historic theater was lost on her as she barged into the auditorium, tossed her bag on a seat, and continued her slapdash march toward the stage. After jostling some henchmen out of her way, she took center stage and briefly made eye contact with @Joe Kerr .[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Although not perceptive, Eartha sensed that her standing in VILE hinged disproportionately on her physical prowess. This production provided the bodybuilder with an opportunity to showcase her more cerebral side to the other members and, more importantly, the boss. She faced forward and inhaled heavily in preparation for her monologue.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]“Come, you spirits,” she yelled, her thick Dorchester Bay accent resonating. She flexed her biceps and continued. “Unsex me here, you murdering ministers, and give me the direst cruelty and the daggers!” [/BCOLOR]
The Jester watched @Eartha carefully as she performed her rendition of Lady Macbeth's Soliquay. While he highly doubted she'd get a Tony for her efforts, it was, in his humble opinion, a surprisingly competent attempt.
@Eartha would serve as a fine Lady Macbeth, if he could get her to not yell so much. It wouldn't be good for business to scare of all the patrons on opening night, or the rest of the cast for that matter.
Walking up to said starlet, Joe took a deep breath before addressing her.
"Well done, my lady; although it would help if you didn't yell out the entire line. By the way, you do realize that your costume for the play will be a dress right?"
Turning quickly to inspect the rest of the cast, he was glad to see that they had the good sense to stifle any chuckles they may have had.
Having made sure things were going kinda peachy in the theater, Vic went to check on the Salistine Palace side of things. Inspection was going on with the electricity sometimes blinking off at night. The license to use the electricity here was limited despite it being a small-scale theme park, so a lot of the electricity on site was generated by wind and water engines connected to the tides.
@Dr. Sara Bellum used a lot of electricity. And not to mention @Acton Roux and his labs, and whatever underground facility everyone was allowed to suss out.
Event shots are small fry though. This kid is like a big fish in a small pond (not that he's cocky). But when he comes work for me, he'll be among 10 others who sometime work 12-hour shoots and stay up until 5 AM editing shots for clients.