Like her normal amp up routine, Robin blared AC/DC on her stereo, which was an ironic contradiction to the slinky classy little black dress she was sporting with black platinum stilettos. Unlike any others, these had removable heels and velvet bottoms to silence footsteps and for a quick getaway. Her large handbag shimmered with rhinestones but housed an array of nonlethal weapons and tools that would put James Bond to shame. Having connections finally worked to her advantage. Robin was one of the few rare women who needed little to stand out. Her long auburn hair had a natural beauty that took little to look phenomenal. Her large blue—green eyes sparkled with just the minimal amount of makeup, hypnotic to anyone who stared into their depths. She had always seen herself as plain, but others saw the raw magnificence she held. As she leaned over the bathroom counter with a mascara wand in one hand and a curling iron in the other, there was a knock at the door. She glanced at the clock, noting the thirty minutes she had before it was time to go, and huffed.
