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[Leonard hates being late. Tardiness is for the lazy, and the stupid. If Leonard rolls up to a party half an hour after every other guest, it's because he timed it that way, and to purposeful effect. He is never off his own clock. Every second, minute, and hour of his schedule is accounted for. Time is money, and nobody robs Leonard Snart. Not even god, or whatever being had seen fit to pluck him from death, only to snatch his second chance at life, and everything that makes it worth living, right out of his hands. You can't put a price on two years.

Which is why he's free-climbing the exterior of Palmer Technologies in the black of night, with nothing between him, the air, and a thirty storey drop to concrete but a black catsuit. Ropes were too obvious, and he didn't have the support for an aerial drop onto the roof. He clings to the glass with electromagnetic gloves and boots, courtesy of a vixen named Selina Kyle he'd almost had a fling with in Gotham, a couple universes back. Nightvision goggles show him heat signatures from within the building, giving him time to move before they can see him.

After nearly five hours he's reached the top floor of the tower. Leonard already knows the layout of the building. He knows who works in it, where, and when. At night there's a skeleton crew of janitors, security, and the occasional engineer racing against a deadline, but they're all on the lower levels of the building, except for the two armed men posted outside the penthouse. No one leaves, or enters, the penthouse except for Sidney Palmer. The brilliant mind behind Palmer Technologies recent return to the forefront of cutting edge technology.

Leonard can think of few things more satisfying than out-innovating the innovator. Deflating Sidney Palmer's ego is as easy as popping a balloon. You just need to know where to find it. He smirks to himself, peeling one hand away from the building and flicking open a claw, drawing a neat circle onto the triple-layered glass. The magnetic material of the claw finds a way between even the tightest molecules. He pops the circle out, carefully, and quietly, and drops it back over his shoulder into the parking lot. People who drive without insurance are asking for it anyway.

He carefully levers himself through the hole, and drops down onto the floor silently, creeping behind the closest table. He adjusts his goggles, reads two people through two sets of doors in one direction, and one much closer, in the same room as him. Bent over a table and fiddling with what looked like a pile of junk.

Some things never change.

Leonard leaps the table, and takes a casual seat on the other side. He'll wait for as long as it takes for Ray to notice him, inspecting the claws of his gloves with mild interest, one long leg crossed over the other.]


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Leonard Snart // Captain Cold

September 2017

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