#Lockpicking Tools

[pickinglock]

Best Locksmith Tools for Beginners

Starting your journey into the locksmith trade can feel overwhelming with so many tools available. Whether you're pursuing it as a professional career or as a personal skill, having the right beginner tools is crucial to learning the trade efficiently and confidently. In this guide, we’ll explore the best locksmith tools for beginners, including essential picks, kits, and training gear to help you get started.

Why the Right Tools Matter for Beginner Locksmiths

When learning locksmithing, using professional-level tools too early can lead to frustration. Beginners need basic picks, starter sets, and practice locks that are user-friendly, affordable, and designed for learning. The goal is to develop technique and confidence without damaging real locks or equipment.

Equipping yourself with the right locksmith starter tool kit ensures:

Faster learning

Fewer mistakes

Better understanding of lock mechanisms

Increased confidence in the field

Essential Locksmith Tools for Beginners

Here are the must-have tools every beginner locksmith should consider adding to their starter set:

1. Lock Pick Set

A reliable lock pick set is the foundation of any locksmith toolkit. For beginners, look for kits that include a variety of rakes, hooks, and diamonds to explore different picking methods.

Recommended for: Practice locks, pin tumbler locks, and learning tension control.

2. Tension Tools

Often overlooked, tension tools (or wrenches) are just as important as the picks themselves. They apply rotational pressure, allowing pins to be manipulated correctly.

Pro tip: Use varying widths and thicknesses to match different keyways.

3. Practice Lock

Training with a transparent or cutaway practice lock helps beginners understand how pins and cylinders work. These locks visually demonstrate what's happening inside, reinforcing your learning.

Best for: Hands-on learners, hobbyists, and training centers.

4. Pick Gun

A pick gun (manual or electric) is used to quickly jar pins into place. While it may not teach traditional picking skills, it’s useful for opening simple locks fast.

Ideal for: Fast entry, low-security locks, and experimentation.

5. Key Decoder Tool

This decoding tool reads bitting depths without taking the lock apart. It's great for beginners learning how key cuts work and identifying key codes.

6. Pinning Kit

A pinning kit lets beginners rekey locks, which is a fundamental locksmithing skill. These kits include color-coded pins, springs, and followers for standard locks.

Recommended for: Practicing rekeying and lock servicing.

7. Locksmith Key Machine

While a key cutter or key machine is more advanced, beginner-friendly models are available. These help you duplicate simple keys and understand key cutting mechanics.

Tip: Start with manual key cutters before progressing to automatic machines.

Budget-Friendly Starter Kits

If you're not sure where to begin, consider purchasing a locksmith starter tool kit. These kits usually include everything you need: a variety of picks, tension tools, and a practice lock. They’re ideal for anyone seeking affordable locksmith tools for learners.

You can find well-curated beginner tool kits and training gear at LockPicks.com. Known for quality and variety, it’s a great place to get your starter set without breaking the bank.

Choosing Tools Based on Skill Level

As you progress, your toolkit should evolve. But in the beginning, simplicity is key:

Choose easy-to-use lock picking tools

Avoid overly complex kits

Focus on learning pin tumbler

Using tools like practice locks for beginner locksmiths helps build muscle memory and practical skills. These tools are designed to mimic real-world scenarios while offering room for error and exploration.

Final Thoughts

Investing in the best locksmith tools for beginners doesn’t have to be expensive or complicated. Focus on learning the basics with quality tools that support your growth. Whether you’re aiming to become a professional locksmith or just exploring it as a hobby, having the right starter set will set the foundation for your success.

Explore beginner-friendly tools, practice locks, and complete starter kits at LockPicks.com — your trusted source for all things locksmithing.

[locksmithautomotiveservices]

Essential Lockpicking Tools and Techniques for Temporary Fixes and Professional Solutions

Locksmithing can often be complicated, requiring a lot of equipment and expertise to handle any problem a customer may have. However, if you need a temporary fix for being locked out or losing your key, there are a few simple tools you can keep on hand.

Before using a lockpick, it’s essential to have a tension wrench. This tool is used alongside any pick you choose, holding the pins in place as you work through them.

The Triangle Pick

The triangle pick is the most versatile kind of pick and can be used in a variety of ways. It’s also one of the best choices if you’re only going to pick one kind of lockpick.

Rake Pick

The other essential lockpick that can be used to tackle a variety of jobs is the rake pick. This pick works by raking all the pins at once to push them above the the sheer line. At the same time, the tension rod turns the plug, and some or all of the pins fall into the correct position after removing the pick.

Hook Pick

The hook pick is what people usually think of when they think of a lockpick. It’s the most basic kind of pick, and works by lifting individual pins into the correct position one at a time.

Wafer Pick

A wafer pick, as the name suggests, is designed to open wafer locks. Although you don’t necessarily need a pick specifically designed for this type of a lock, it will make your life a little easier.

Round Pick

This pick looks how you would expect it to look- round at the end, in either the shape of a full or half circle. It is another pick that can be used to open wafer locks, and is handy to have in your arsenal.

The Skeleton Key

The skeleton key is also known as the warded picks, as these picks are designed to tackle warded locks. Warded locks have simpler design than pin locks, and employ wards to allow or deny access based on the shape of the key. The skeleton key is stripped down to the essential part of a warded key, the very end, allowing for easier manipulation and less chance of the key being denied.

Hopefully this short list will help you out of a tight spot sometime in the future. If you do end up needing to call in a professional, make sure you hire someone who is trustworthy and reliable, and who has all the necessary tools to tackle any job. 24 hour locksmiths like locksmith Temecula are on call and ready to come to your aid night or day.

[saturnniidae]

Hiccup keeps a very small emergency blade in his prosthetic leg. It's not far-fetched considering he canonically made Gobber one for his birthday

[liminul]

OC pixel art power tools/locksmith and car key programming tools... super niche but hey maybe some1 else out there will dig it too....

[tenebrius-excellium]

This is murder baby he is VERY PISSED

aka Eugenides Attolis in 'The King of Attolia'

[szonikuscsavarhuzo]

@muszeresz

[roseverdict]

bad bike lockup: looping your lock through the bike frame and nothing else

okay bike lockup: looping your lock through the bike frame and an immobile pole like a street sign

good bike lockup: looping your lock through the bike frame, the back wheel, the front wheel if you can manage it, and an actual bike rack

????? bike lockup: looping your lock through the bike frame, the back wheel, and the grated door of the propane tank storage unit at a gas station

[invinciblerodent]

oh god Astarion really is literally the lockpicking lawyer in the most authentic way

[vvelegrin]

augh i need to get a new phone, and i need to give my doctor a form so i can get accommodations for the GRE, and i need to contact people for letters of recommendation, and i need to get my car smogged, and i need to make an appointment for a sleep study, and i need to get a livescan done like three months ago, and i need to fill out a thing for my master gardener project, and i need to scout out areas that are safe and legal to shoot some arrows and also maybe make a lesson with the local range to clean up my form, and i need to reach out to some local falconers so i can flush game for them and whatever and be best friends forever, and also get ear drops again for my recurring double ear infections lmao, and probably about 400 other things.

sigh. what if i... didn't.

[godzexperiment]

For a while all she could to was stare, wondering if she saw what she’d just witnessed. “That is…one heck of a party trick. How can you—I need to learn that.”

If that was one thing on the complete list, now she had to know. “I’m sure the list might keep us here for hours, so how about the cliff notes version?”

"That was keeping it simple, can also thread small beads and charms. Plus weave things together- just about considering the movement of muscles and force required." Nix grinned before humming for an few seconds thoughtfully to condense the list down. "Fully mix an drink, obviously divine bedroom activities, clean up knocked over drinks within seconds, Sewing but also embroidery. As some of the highlights. Oh and lock picking!"

[pickinglock]

How to Use a Lockpicking Gun: A Step-by-Step Guide for Beginners

Lockpicking guns, or snap guns, are one of the most efficient tools for opening pin tumbler locks without the use of a traditional key. Whether you're a locksmith just starting out or an enthusiast eager to learn, knowing how to use a lockpicking gun is essential. In this comprehensive guide, we will walk you through how to use a lockpicking gun, the different types of lockpicking guns, and offer valuable tips for beginners.

If you’re ready to learn about these fascinating tools, let’s dive into the world of lockpicking guns!

What is a Lockpicking Gun?

A lockpicking gun is a specialized tool used to unlock pin tumbler locks quickly and efficiently. It works by using rapid, controlled force to manipulate the pins inside a lock, allowing it to be unlocked without a key. The tool is often powered either manually or electronically (electric snap gun), making it versatile and ideal for locksmiths and security professionals.

Lockpicking guns are most commonly used for non-destructive entry into doors and vehicles, and they are especially helpful when you need to avoid damaging the lock.

Types of Lockpicking Guns

When you're just starting, it’s essential to choose the right lockpicking gun for your needs. There are mainly two types of lockpicking guns:

Manual Lockpicking Guns (Snap Guns): These are classic tools powered by hand, where the user manually operates the trigger to release a fast, controlled blow. A manual lockpicking gun is great for beginners as it offers more control over the process.

Electric Lockpicking Guns: Electric snap guns are powered by a battery or electrical current and can quickly manipulate the pins with minimal effort. They are perfect for professional locksmiths who need to handle high-volume situations.

How to Use a Lockpicking Gun: A Step-by-Step Guide

Whether you're using a manual lockpicking gun or an electric one, the basic steps are quite similar. Here's a simple, step-by-step guide to help you get started.

1. Insert the Tension Wrench

Before using the lockpicking gun, you need to insert a tension wrench into the bottom of the keyhole. The tension wrench applies light pressure to the lock cylinder, which helps to set the pins in place once they are manipulated.

2. Place the Lockpicking Gun

Next, insert the lockpicking gun's pick into the keyhole. Ensure the pick is in the correct position. For best results, ensure that the pick is touching the pins and is aligned with the lock's internal mechanism.

3. Pull the Trigger

If you're using a manual lockpicking gun, pull the trigger to release a rapid movement that "bumps" the pins into place. In the case of an electric lockpicking gun, the mechanism will automatically perform the pin manipulation as you apply light pressure with the tension wrench.

4. Apply Tension and Feel for Feedback

While operating the lockpicking gun, keep a consistent level of pressure on the tension wrench. You'll feel slight feedback as the pins begin to set. The lock will open once all pins are aligned with the shear line.

5. Turn the Lock

After the pins are set, simply turn the keyhole with the tension wrench to unlock the door or lock.

Tips for Beginners Using a Lockpicking Gun

Using a lockpicking gun might seem tricky at first, but with the right tools and practice, it becomes much easier. Here are a few tips to improve your lockpicking gun skills:

Practice on a Transparent Lock: The best way to get comfortable with using a lockpicking gun is to practice on a transparent lock. This will allow you to see how the pins align as you apply tension and use the lockpicking gun.

Use a Light Touch with Tension: Applying too much tension can cause pins to get stuck. Try applying only light tension and adjust as you go.

Start with Simple Locks: Begin with easier locks before progressing to more complicated ones. Pin tumblers are great starting points.

Use the Right Lockpicking Gun for Your Needs: If you’re just starting, a manual lockpicking gun is a great choice. It’s easy to use and provides valuable feedback as you learn.

Popular Lockpicking Guns Available at LockPicks.com

At LockPicks.com, you'll find a range of high-quality lockpicking guns that are perfect for beginners and professionals alike. Here are a few top-rated options:

MANUAL LOCKPICKING GUNS

1. Original LockAid Pick Gun

Overview: This is one of the most trusted and time-tested manual pick guns in the locksmith community. Designed with simplicity and durability in mind, it's perfect for both beginners and experienced locksmiths.

Key Features:

Made of cold-rolled steel for long-lasting performance.

Brass-knurled adjusting nut for easy tension setting.

Comes with 3 pick needles and a tension wrench.

Allows for quick manual manipulation of pin tumbler locks.

Best For: Locksmiths and enthusiasts looking for a reliable, no-frills tool that gets the job done.

2. BROCKHAGE BPG-10 Lock Pick Gun

Overview: An industry-standard pick gun made for long-term durability and versatility. BROCKHAGE is a respected name in the locksmithing world.

Key Features:

Durable construction with quality components.

Designed to work with most standard pin tumbler locks.

Lifetime warranty—indicative of its robust quality.

Best For: Professionals who want a dependable tool for everyday use without worrying about wear and tear.

3. BROCKHAGE BPG-15 Downward Pick Gun

Overview: Specifically engineered for European-style locks that have a downward pin configuration, which many other pick guns struggle with.

Key Features:

Targets locks with downward-facing pins.

Compact and lightweight design for easy maneuverability.

Ideal for certain padlocks and European lock cylinders.

Best For: Locksmiths working internationally or dealing with non-U.S. locking systems.

4. BROCKHAGE BPG-25 Semi-Automatic 2-Phase Lock Pick Gun

Overview: Nicknamed “The Machine Gun” of pick guns, this semi-automatic tool is excellent for rapid lock manipulation. It simulates a fast snapping action to bounce lock pins into position.

Key Features:

Semi-automatic trigger function with adjustable tension.

Two-phase action provides more control during operation.

Comes with pick needles and tension tool in a protective case.

Best For: Advanced users and professionals who want speed and efficiency.

5. HPC PistolPick (HPG-10) Pick Gun

Overview: A high-quality, American-made manual pick gun with premium materials and smooth operation. Offers excellent performance and control.

Key Features:

Nickel-plated cold-rolled steel body (rust-resistant).

Ergonomic pistol grip for better comfort.

Precision mechanism offers cleaner pin movement.

Best For: Professionals who prioritize ergonomics, control, and rugged build quality.

ELECTRIC LOCKPICKING GUNS

1. SouthOrd Electric Lock Pick Gun

Overview: A battery-powered electric pick gun that makes picking fast and less physically demanding. It delivers high-frequency vibrations to nudge the pins into place.

Key Features:

Operates with high-output using C batteries.

Includes multiple pick needles for various lock types.

Designed for smooth operation without manual strain.

Best For: Technicians who want efficient lock opening without repetitive manual motion.

2. HPC ElectroPick

Overview: One of the most advanced electric pick guns available. The ElectroPick is rechargeable and offers consistent power for frequent use.

Key Features:

Rechargeable internal battery (no need for disposable batteries).

Precision electronic pulses to lift pins.

Ideal for frequent users and professionals.

Best For: Locksmiths needing a long-term, high-efficiency electric solution for daily operations.

Whether you're a novice getting started or a seasoned locksmith looking to upgrade, LockPicks.com offers a full spectrum of manual and electric lockpick guns to suit your needs.

Manual tools like the Original LockAid or BROCKHAGE BPG-10 are perfect for reliability and control.

Electric models like the HPC ElectroPick and SouthOrd help reduce effort and time, especially during frequent use.

Explore the full collection at LockPicks.com to choose the right tool for your lockpicking tasks.

Conclusion

Lockpicking guns are incredibly useful tools that every locksmith should have in their toolkit. Whether you’re using a manual lockpicking gun or an electric lockpicking gun, mastering the use of these tools will make your job easier, faster, and more efficient.

For beginners, starting with a simple, user-friendly lockpicking gun like the ones offered by LockPicks.com is the best way to build your skills and gain confidence. Whether you’re looking to learn lockpicking as a hobby or develop professional locksmithing skills, the right lockpicking gun will help you unlock doors without causing damage.

Remember, practice is key to becoming proficient at using a lockpicking gun. Stick with it, and soon you'll be able to open locks with ease and confidence.

Let me know if you want more details or need help with anything else!

[collegeoflore]

i think i’m gonna give xar a couple levels in rogue next time i play him bc in my heart he is a terrific pickpocket and i want the rogue dialogue options bc some are sooo good for him

[ofgoldandfear]

DID I MAKE SOME SLIGHT CORRECTIONS?

Yes, because I had forgotten her trademark beauty spot under the left eye, and also because I wasn't satisfied with her jaw line (too strong, too long for her actual face structure).

But I do appreciate how tired I made her look so tired for this first concept lol she is a young adult but at times she looks as tired as a jaded 45yo I suppose, it would suit the somber aspect of her personality and contrast with someone like P who starts as an immaculate puppet. He is learning to live and feel, she's already been living and feeling too much.

Take that girl to some vacations, she needs it.

In the meantime, I'll be preparing the concept art sheet for her accessories, it's going to be a fun one (and also anger inducing because that girl carries a lot of stuff - that coat is actually quite heavy and it may take people aback because she manages to move around so smoothly with it - but she is also used to it).

First concept art - Margot Waldeck

BGM for the mood.

It's not clean yet but I don't care, while I have a clear idea in my head it'll take more work to refine it as I draw (also the balance between my tablet and main screen remains dreadful and I really need to get back to that because it annoys me).

Anway, here is Margot by the time Lies of P starts.

The fanciest part of her design is the raven mask - a part of the feathers got damaged from use, giving it a semi skull-like appearance, yet after the city fell into chaos, its sight quickly became synonymous with relief for the survivors.

Everything else screams working class in its practicality. The coat has seen better days and is clearly too big for her, yet it seems well-cared for. Its size may also constitute a surprising advantage for someone like Margot, perfect to keep secret inner pockets and with the left sleeve rolled up to leave room for a certain tool.

The boots are well-worn as well, yet just as well-maintained. Simple but comfortable, with the ideal thickness to be well-protected without restraining movement nor causing unnecessary noise while walking around.

The trousers are practical and allow her to use utility belts to transport various materials - mostly medicine and weaponry - while she moves around the city.

The blouse is the one point of colour in her outfit, a golden yellow that brings some life into her rather concerningly pale face.

The fullness of her bun betrays long hair with waves and curls. She could have cut it shorter, but found that keeping it in a simple updo with cleverly placed pins is more beneficial when it comes to limiting hair flying around her face. When she puts the raven mask on, between the feathers and the hair, it can be difficult to see where one ends and the other begins.

Interestingly, while the mask may suggest she's a Stalker, the way she fights and the weapons she uses match neither a Bastard nor a Sweeper's style.

Overall, the image I have for her is one of practicality, with some tricky aspects incorporated into it: hidden tools to take enemies by surprise, medicine that could very well turn to poison depending on its dosage, and a variety of precision tools to make sure she can go anywhere she wants in town.

[quarterlifekitty]

141+Nik trying to subtly baby trap their bird but failing only to have to go on months long mission and as they're just arriving to the mission they get a text saying 'went off my birth control, I'll be ready when you get home ;)'

lol imagine failing to baby trap someone. how humiliating. I'm just gonna do one person for this bc I feel like there's only so far I can take it lol

Your medicine box is like fucking Fort Knox. It's not got one of those piece of shit consumer locks, no, for whatever reason, it's latched with the real deal. You told Soap it was because you were paranoid about your cat finding her way into it, of neices and nephews that had started crawling around and testing every boundary.

But whatever, fine-- he has military grade lockpicking skills and tools. So he figures out how to crack it. What takes a little bit is cracking it without damaging it at all, but it's still no big deal.

Only your birth control isn't in there. He starts snooping around elsewhere-- in your nightstand, coat pockets, but... He doesn't want to exaggerate or anything. But he thinks you've got probably about eight thousand purses and tote bags and backpacks. All with about a dozen tiny little pockets and zippers and buttons and snaps that he thinks must only be maneuverable to a neurosurgeon. All he ends up finding is lip balm, receipts, and really horrifically crushed up granola bars.

He's never been able to find it. You've never left it out. Never asked him to grab it for you. Never asked him to pick it up from the pharmacy. It somehow just keeps hopping from bag to bag while the little pills are taken when he's not around.

So seeing that text message is both a relief and a slap in the face. Like you're letting him win. Doesn't feel earned. But he also isn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He comes home practically hopping on one leg to get his pants off before you banish him to the shower.

[sanguineterrain]

holiday spirit | jason todd

Summary: Stuck at a shitty office party for your shitty job on Christmas Eve Eve, you’re at your wit’s end. The last thing you expect is to play vigilante for a night with the Red Hood.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings/tags: panic attacks, reader has anxiety, creepy coworkers, office party shenanigans, canon-typical violence, jason being both a menace and a sweetheart, attempts at humor, fake relationship, silliness!

the divider

You’re grateful for a reason to escape. Someone announces that the lights on the obnoxious eleven-foot Christmas tree are burned out and you’re already on the elevator, volunteering to find spare lights. 

You hate these office parties. They’re just a way to play politics, show off fiancés, and reaffirm cliques. You wanted to skip it all together. But Mr. Emerson, your boss, had insisted that attending tonight’s party was mandatory.

Alma had told you about a hundred times to skip tonight, but Alma’s worked here since the Reagan administration and has too much pull to be fired. You, conversely, have been here eight months, and if you get fired, your next job is going to be as a henchman for a B-list Gotham villain. 

Being painfully ordinary and anxious is a toxic mix. Your doctor still thinks all your worrying is because of your menstrual cycle. He doesn’t believe in work-related stress.

So anyway. You’re just trying to get through tonight. And find some tree lights that work. 

You unlock the spare office where all the holiday junk is stored and turn on the light. 

The motherfucking Red Hood looks at you, one leg dangling outside of the window and one leg inside the office. He unclicks his harness. 

"Oh my God,” you say, hand frozen on the light switch.

Red Hood pulls his leg in from the window and steps into the office. He puts the harness in a duffel bag and roughly zips it, then tosses it unceremoniously onto the floor. 

"Oh my God.”

He glances at you, helmet eyes glowing. "No God here, just me.”

"Oh my God," you say again, near hysterics. "Oh my God, Red Hood."

"Always nice to meet a fan," he says irritably, brushing snow off of his jacket, flashing his holsters. Oh, fuck. That's a lot of guns.

"What, um���" You close your eyes, lick your lips, try to find your sanity. "To what do I—why—are you gonna kill me?”

"The fuck? You think I'd sneak into an office and kill someone in cold blood? What kinda operation you think I'm running?"

Your mouth opens and closes in horror. "Wh–I... I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Hood."

"Please, Mr. Hood was my father."

He laughs. You taste bile in your throat. 

Hood sobers. "Damn. Tough crowd. Look, sorry to freak you out, but I got shit to do. If you'll just point me to Hershel Emerson's office, I'll be on my merry way."

"That's m-my boss. Are you gonna kill him?" You can’t handle murder tonight. You’ll have a breakdown for sure. 

"Literally, what did I just say?" Hood throws his hands up. "Not one minute ago. I'm not killing anyone!"

"Yet?" you ask weakly, mind inundated with too many mob movies to watch your manners. You know what the Red Hood is all about. Everyone does. 

"No. I'm not killing Emerson. But he is a bad dude, so I gotta take care of business. Actually, I should kill him. He deserves it."

You squeak in horror. He raises a hand.

"But I'm not!" he says gruffly. "Respectfully, get a grip. You live in Gotham."

You swallow. "What're you gonna do to my boss if not kill him?"

Hood shrugs. "Eh, maybe scare him a bit. Mostly get intel to take him down. He's currently sitting on five million dollars of stolen life savings from clients."

You blink. "What?"

"Yup. What I really wanna know is which of his employees are in on it. He didn't do this alone."

Hood takes out a small roll-up pouch of what looks like lockpicking tools. You release your sweaty death grip on the doorknob, causing it to squeak. Hood doesn't look up.

Five million dollars is ringing in your head. That happened here. Where you work. Your boss is even scummier than you thought.

“Is that a lockpicking kit?” you ask.

“Yup. Good eye.”

"This seems... illegal.”

"Well, I won't lie to you, most of what I do is. You won't be implicated though.”

He looks at you. You flinch. Even with the lights on, the Red Hood is scary as shit. 

"Yeah..." he says, shaking his head. "You wouldn’t do well in prison. I can tell."

Your chest hurts. "I don't think anyone does well in prison," you say, eyebrows scrunching. "Have... you been to prison?"

"Only to break out a friend. You ask a lot of questions."

"Sorry. Um, Mr. Red Hood—"

"Ah-ah. Call me Red. Or Hood. No Mister-ing."

"Okay.” You lick your lips, hoping he doesn't go back on his temporary no-kill policy. “Hood, do you think you could come later? After the Christmas party?”

He tilts his head at you. You keep talking. 

“Not that I don't admire what you're doing! Because I think taking down my boss for stealing money is great, eat the rich and all that, but, um, I came up here to get lights to replace the ones that burned out downstairs because that's a normal thing that happens and now you're here, at my job, and I'm freaking out. Oh God, oh my God—”

You grab the wall for stability, feeling like you've been rocking on a boat for hours. Sweat beads on your forehead. This time, you really do feel like you’ll throw up. Throwing up in front of the Red Hood would be humiliating. 

“Look, I got shit to do, okay? I'm sorry you're freaking out but your boss is gonna cash out in a few days and then I lose him and that five million. It's now or never."

You should've just stayed home and baked cookies. Fuck being social! This is what happens when you're social: you meet morally gray vigilantes who force you to be complicit with their crimes.

Your cheeks feel wet. Are you crying? Maybe it’s sweat. 

Hood points to the hallway. "Is there a camera outside?"

"Y-yeah.” Your voice is weak. “I think I’m having a heart attack. Can you call security on your way out?"

“Does your left arm hurt?”

“No, but—”

“Are your limbs stiffening?”

“No, but—”

“You’re not having a heart attack. Your speech is fine.”

Hood takes out a few more things from the duffel, then kicks it under a desk with his foot. You wheeze and grab onto the doorknob again. 

It’s quiet for a second. Then— 

“Shit. You're having a panic attack,” Hood says.

"Mm, probably," you say, hunched over like an armadillo. Fuck your stupid doctor. 

There's silence as you wheeze quietly. Then something small hits your head. You flinch and squeal.

"You don't need to throw things at me!" you say, beyond defeated, near tears.

"No, I wasn't—sorry. It's a Warhead. I have one when I'm feeling… not my best. They're s’posed to help occupy your other senses so the panic disappears."

You stare at the candy, confused and suspicious at once. "Is it spiked?"

"Again, what sorta operation do you think I'm running? It's not drugs. Look." Hood unwraps a Warhead and sticks it in his mouth underneath his helmet. You hear him suck on it. "Eesh, that's sour. Okay? No drugs."

So you take the candy from the floor, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. The sour taste immediately overwhelms you. It's like your brain resets. You pant through the sour.

"Ough," you say, face scrunching from the taste.

"Yeah, right? Life changing hack."

You suck on the candy desperately and close your eyes, trying to find your breath. 

“It’s okay,” Hood says, stilted and awkward. “Just, uh, focus on your breathing. Exhale longer than you inhale. Breathe through your nose.”

It takes another few minutes, but the feeling passes. Your chest lightens. It’s the quickest you’ve ever recovered from a panic attack. 

“I was just kidding about the prison thing,” Hood says. “You’re not gonna go to jail ‘cause of this, I promise.”

Yeah, but what if you lose your job?

You spit the Warhead into a trash can and smack your tongue a bit. “Are you sure you can’t come back tomorrow night?”

“No can do,” Hood says. “Your boss will be gone by then.”

“It's just that I'm really bad with keeping secrets and according to Google, that's how ulcers form and I really can't afford any sick days off, so—"

You yelp as the door suddenly swings open, hitting your shoulder. You spin around.

"Hey," Bill says, squinting at you. "Where have you been?”

"No!" you yell, and turn off the light. 

Bill stares at you, illuminated by the hallway light. “Uh…”

You clear your throat. "Ahem. I'm fine. It's just taking me a moment to sift through all these decorations. Please return to the party.”

You hate Bill. He’s a sleaze and doesn’t do any work. More than once, he’s trapped you by the water cooler in a conversation about his “smokin’” imaginary lawyer girlfriend.

“If you wanted me to come help you, you could've just said so," he says, reaching for the light, way too close. You don’t like his tone either.

"No!" you yell, blocking the light switch with your hands.

"What the hell? Why not?"

"Because—"

There's a creak from the back. You wince. 

Bill immediately whips his head toward the sound. "Is someone here? Hello?"

He reaches for the light. Again, you block him, swatting his hands away.

"Would you stop—is someone here?"

"My boyfriend!" you blurt.

Bill stops, looking at you. "Your boyfriend? You've never mentioned a boyfriend."

"Well, I have one and he's here."

"Okay. Why can't I turn on the light and see him?"

"Because he's... um..."

You spot the red Santa suit out of the corner of your eye. 

Oh, this is a terrible idea.

"He's changing! He's our Santa for the party. Surprise!" You make weak jazz hands.

Bill looks into the dark where you're pretty sure Hood is hiding. You hope, anyway. Otherwise Bill is going to tell everyone that you're making up boyfriends. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," comes Hood's unmodulated, deadpan reply, and you jump. "Don't turn on the light. I'm naked."

"Oh..." Bill looks queasy for a moment. "Uh—" He looks at you and suddenly grins. "Oh, I get it. You two were having fun before going to the party, huh? Didn't know you were such a wildcat."

"That’s disgusting,” you say. “I would never do that in the office.”

Bill wiggles his eyebrows. "Me-ow. Does the Santa thing turn you on?"

"I'm right here, Bill, and naked or not, I'll kick your ass," Hood says.

Bill pales and quickly backs out of the room. "Right. Sorry. Uh, carry on."

He closes the door. You push your back against it and exhale, heart racing.

"Bill is a shithead," Hood says. 

“How… do you know his name?”

“Employee background check,” Hood says mildly. 

"Oh… yeah, he's been written up a bunch of times for inappropriate behavior, but he's close with Emerson, so he never gets fired."

"Want me to kill him for you? Free of charge."

"What? No! Hood—"

"Oh, relax. I was kidding."

"Uh-huh." You turn on the light. Hood has his helmet on, and his voice is modulated again. "What're we gonna do?"

"Well, I'm gonna go make sure Hershel doesn’t fuck off to Bermuda. The lights you wanted are here, by the way."

Hood tosses you a box of multi-colored tree lights. Then he walks toward you. You plaster yourself across the door.

"Wait! You can't leave. I said that my boyfriend is going to be Santa. Bill will tell everyone. They’ll expect you.”

"I appreciate your quick thinking, but that's a hard pass,” Hood says.

"You can't leave now! Bill's gonna tell everyone I'm a liar and they'll think I was up to something worse in here, like snorting coke."

"I mean this gently: I think you should look into anti-anxiety meds. My brother swears by Xanax.”

“My doctor won’t prescribe it to me,” you say glumly. “He thinks my anxiety is made up.”

“Huh. Want me to kill him? I know a better doctor.”

"Well…” You hesitate, then shake your head. “No! No. Hood, please. They’re all gonna expect a Santa. And when I don’t show up with Santa, they’ll remember that I didn’t participate in White Elephant or any of that other office nonsense that I don’t want to waste my money on. I need this job!”

“They’re not gonna fire you for not doing White Elephant,” Hood says. 

“You don’t know them! It’s a popularity contest.”

But Hood is indeed disinterested in the fact that you'll be the office pariah. Probably because he’s never worked in an office. 

Instead, he ushers you aside without a struggle. Then he turns the doorknob.

"Wait! Wait, listen. If you dress as Santa, you'll have access to the party and offices. You won't have to sneak around. And people get really drunk at these. They'll talk. You can figure out who's helping Emerson steal money."

His hand pauses. He looks at you. You look back, wringing your hands.

"You're pretty crafty," he says. 

"...Thanks?”

Hood releases the doorknob. "Alright, fine. I'll do the Santa shtick.”

“You will?”

He tilts his head. “Should I not?”

“No! No, you should. It’ll be a good disguise.”

He hums. “Sure. But we're in this together now, got it? You blow my cover and we both go down."

"Y-yeah, got it."

Hood heaves a gusty sigh. "Next time, I'm sending Roy in to do this shit."

"Who's Roy?"

"Ah." He holds up a finger. "Too many questions."

He makes a beeline for the Santa costume and then looks at you expectantly.

"Yo. Boyfriend or not, you're not watching me change. Guard the door, Mrs. Claus."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

You turn off the light and go into the hall, shutting the door behind you. It's empty, luckily. You rap your fingers on the box of lights, leg jiggling. 

This is insane. You should just tell Hood you can't do this and let him figure out his own plan.

But then... this would make it easier to find Emerson's crime partner. And you're really sick of Bill being a jerk. You don’t want to be called a liar, or get iced out for the rest of your time here because you didn’t bring Santa. Maybe having Hood be your Santa-boyfriend would make people leave you alone. Which is a crazy reason to stick to this plan, but still. You're trying to find the bright side.

And all those people that Emerson stole from... surely, you have a responsibility to help get their money back and bring him to justice, don't you?

The door swings open. You turn around.

“You wear a mask under your helmet?” 

“As a precaution.” He sounds defensive. “Lots of people in my profession do it.” 

You doubt that. “Don’t you think it’ll be weird if Santa has a mask on?” 

He hesitates, evidently debating between protecting his identity and arousing suspicion.

“Fine.” He carefully peels off the mask and tucks it into his pocket. The surrounding skin is slightly pink from irritation. His nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles. 

And wow. The Red Hood has beautiful eyes. So vibrant and clear, like seafoam. And young! How old is he, anyway? He doesn’t look much older than you, if at all. 

His eyes are framed by thick, dark lashes, and it makes sense, Hood being a brunet.

“What?” he snaps, glaring.

“Nice eyes,” you blurt.

His brows furrow. You remember the guns.

“Um, anyway. Should we go?” you squeak out, backing away.

Hood huffs through the beard. It flutters. "We need to have some ground rules."

"Okay."

"First, you should know that I will shoot if there's a physical threat at this party. Two, you're gonna call me Todd at the party. Three, if you try to tell anyone that I'm Red Hood or that I'm taking down Emerson, I will make your life hell. And if you're his partner, you'd better tell me now or I'm gonna be a lot less jolly."

"I'm not!" you say. "I would never do that. And I won't tell anyone you're Red Hood."

"Good. Let's go. Keep your ears open for hints about Emerson's partner."

He takes off in long strides. You hurry to keep up. The Santa costume doesn't slow him down.

"So how did you find out that Emerson's stealing?" you ask.

"Got a tip. You really didn't know he was stealing?"

“I don’t have access to the finances. I work in user interface. Website design.”

"Yeah? That's pretty cool. I got a brother who's into that stuff," Hood says.

"The same one who takes Xanax?”

“Would you believe it?”

You try to picture Red Hood with a regular family. With a brother or a sister or a father. It's hard to imagine.

“How come you don’t take anti-anxiety medication?” you ask. 

“I have Pit Madness Syndrome, and it has a weird chemical reaction with that stuff.”

“Oh.” Subject change. Quickly! "Do you celebrate Christmas?" 

"Not really. I'm not a believer or celebrator of much. You can see what my plans are two days before Christmas."

"Your family doesn't celebrate?"

Hood just grunts, eyes suddenly stormy. You take the hint and stop talking.

The room where the party is isn't particularly special. It's big enough to fit about a hundred people. For all the money the company makes, you'd thought that they could afford to splurge a little and rent an actual hall. Now you know what the profits have been going toward. But the decorations are decently lavish.

"Oh, wait." Hood leans in to speak in your ear. Lightning shoots down your spine. "I don't know your name."

You give it. He repeats it, and you shiver, like your boyfriend just said your name.

"'Kay. Stay in this room. We don't know how much Emerson or his partner knows, but assume they’re willing to do anything to get away with the money."

You nod. “Got it.”

“Hey, it’s Santa!” Bill shouts from across the room. “He made it!”

You smile tightly. “As promised.”

A few people wave. Others cheer. 

“These people really like Christmas, huh?” Hood asks.

“You have no idea,” you say, hyperaware of his hand brushing your back.

“Don’t think I got your name, man,” Bill says as he approaches. He sticks a hand out. “Bill.”

“Todd,” Hood says, taking his hand and shaking. Bill winces at the handshake. You hide a smile.

“Ah, Todd. Right.” Bill looks at you, trying to subtly soothe his hand. “You’ve never mentioned him.”

You shrug. “Never came up.”

“I’m pretty private,” Hood says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “But we’re very much in love. Ain’t that right, baby?”

“Th-that’s right… honey,” you say, face going hot.

“So what do you do for work?” Bill asks. “My girlfriend’s a lawyer.”

You roll your eyes. Hood snorts.

“There’s no way you’re dating anyone. You look like you got dressed in the dark, Billy.”

You cough your laugh into your arm. Bill’s eye twitches.

“Enjoy the party,” he says icily. He glares at you, then stomps away.

“That was amazing, but I think Bill might retaliate,” you say. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Hood says. “I’ll take care of it.”

You look at him with big eyes. “Hood—”

“Not like that. Just… it’ll be handled. Okay?”

You nod. Maybe it’s insane, but you trust him. “Okay. Want some punch?”

Hood hums. “No alcohol. Thanks.”

You go to the punch bowl, a little relieved to escape Hood’s piercing ocean-eyed stare. He’s intense. Whoever dates him for real is in for a ride. 

Then again, you can’t imagine Hood meeting someone for coffee or dinner. You giggle at the image of him showing up with his guns and helmet. 

“Hey, IT.” A woman in a white sweater you’ve seen maybe once waves at you. “Cool idea, bringing a Santa.”

“Yeah, Emerson’s too cheap to,” the man next to her says. They laugh.

You smile. “Glad you like it.”

You serve yourself two cups of the alcohol-free punch. Then you turn. 

Your smile falls. Across the room is Hood and Tanya Donaldson, resident shit-stirrer. She’s trying to cozy up to him. You sigh and walk over, bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” Hood says, practically dragging you into his side. He takes a cup of punch. “Just met Tanya.”

You can guess exactly how he feels about that.

"Oh, is he your boyfriend?" Tanya asks, eyeing Hood like he's a slab of steak. “I had no idea!”

"Uh-huh," you say. "This is Todd."

She wiggles her fingers, grinning. “So how often do you go to the gym, Todd?” She rests a hand on Hood's arm. "I didn't know Santa was so big and broad."

Your gaze drifts to where you're pretty sure Hood has a gun strapped to his ankle, and the temptation does appear, you won't deny.

But you need this job and it's going to be really hard to explain why Santa's armed and dangerous, so you just grit your teeth. Tanya's the worst for this kind of behavior and she doesn't respect you, so bringing your hunky boyfriend is like dangling a bunch of carrots in her face. 

And it’s not like Todd is actually your boyfriend. 

"Are you flirting with me in front of my girlfriend?" Hood asks, prying her hand off of his arm.

"Flirting?" She claps a hand over her mouth, the movement slightly delayed from all the wine. "No, oh my God! I was just saying—"

"That's really pathetic," Hood says. "Don't do that."

He walks away and you follow, leaving a wobbly Tanya on her own. You smile to yourself.

"Thank you for that," you say.

Hood gives you a thumbs up. "I can plant evidence on her and get her fired if you want."

"No, I don't want to feel damned for eternity. Thanks anyway."

"You have a lot of assholes at your job," Hood says. "But you're not one. I admire that.”

You sigh. "They're not all bad. Alma is cool. She keeps me from quitting.”

"And where is she?"

"At home. She's a sixty-two year old accountant who doesn't care about these parties. Her hip aches when it's cold."

"Mm. Maybe you should follow her lead," Hood says.

"But then who would help you with your spycraft, Hood?"

He allows himself a tiny laugh at that. You wonder how often he laughs. If ever.

“Well, suffering Tanya wasn’t in vain. She said this whole party cost twenty grand.”

“So?”

He gestures grandly. “Does this look like it cost twenty grand to put this together?” 

It's true. The alcohol is the most expensive thing here. No food, except for some people that participated in the potluck, but you don't trust anybody's food here. The decorations are old. Not to mention the Red Hood as your Santa. Your boss might have spared a thousand for tonight. No more. 

“So where did all that money go?” you ask. 

Hood snaps his fingers. “Bingo.” 

“That is so shitty. I got a chocolate-covered pretzel as my Christmas bonus,” you say. 

“A bag of ‘em?” He shakes his head. “Pretty cheap.”

“Ha, no. No, I got one big pretzel. In a box. The box cost more than the pretzel, I think.”

His eyes widen. “Jesus. Even I give more than that to my guys.”

“Got any openings?” you ask, half-joking. 

Hood snorts. “Don't think you'd like what we do. Why d’you stay?” 

You shrug. “Nowhere else to go. I have to eat somehow.” 

“Crappy boss, crappy coworkers, no Christmas bonus. Hell, I feel sorry for ya.”

The Red Hood feels sorry for you. Perhaps you've reached a new low. 

He drinks the punch and coughs. “Ahem, wow. Did you make the punch?”

“No, some people mixed it here.”

“Oh, then I'll be honest. Tastes like a flavor that's not found in nature.” He throws his cup away. You trust him and set your still-full cup on a table.

“I won't even mention the potluck,” you say. 

“Yeesh. Can't eat at everyone's house.” 

“That's what I say!” 

He winks at you. You look away, flustered. 

The crazy thing is, you could get used to this. Well, not specifically Red Hood, but having a boyfriend to bring to these functions, who’ll warn you against gross punch and defend you against Tanya. 

And Hood is surprisingly good at this. If you forget the past hour, you can almost pretend that this is just another office party that you happen to be spending with your new boyfriend. 

"Hey, look! It's Santa! Dude, check me out with Santa!"

One of the finance guys who's very drunk—you want to say that his name is Matt—bounds up to you and Hood. Hood tenses, reaching for his hip (gun!) and you touch his elbow, reminding him to relax. He drops his arm. 

Matt reeks of alcohol, the front of his shirt stained with bourbon. He laughs, forehead shiny with sweat.

"Santaaa, hey, Saint Nick, take a pic with me, man!"

Matt throws his arms around Hood. Hood does not like that and shoves him off accordingly. But Matt doesn't seem to notice and holds up his phone, camera facing front. Hood slaps the phone out of his hand.

"No pictures," he says.

You wince. The guy stares and blinks, taking three to five business days to process what just happened.

"What the fuck, man? That was my phone!"

"Sorry. I'm drunk." Hood sighs like he's physically in pain, then leans back and makes drinking motions with his fingers. "Fuckin' wasted! Did you try those rum shots? Lit, dude!"

The guy cheers up, forgetting all about the phone. "Oh, yeah, for sure! I'm gonna go get one right now! Thanks, Santa!"

"You do that!" Hood says cheerily.

As soon as the guy leaves, Hood returns to his resting scary face.

"Wow," you say.

"I know. I threw up in my mouth a little."

You laugh. Hood grins. Then it fades.

"Damn it. We're getting no closer to finding Emerson's partner. I should just interrogate Emerson until he tells me."

Interrogate makes you feel woozy. You're pretty sure you know what Hood's idea of an interrogation is.

"Wait! We just need to lure them out. If they think their money might be in jeopardy, they'll sneak out of the party to go check on it, right?" you ask.

"Potentially, yes. But how do we lure 'em?"

"There's an alert if someone withdraws more than ten thousand dollars from the company. But I don't have access to the accounts," you say.

Hood smiles slowly. "You don't need it. Remember I mentioned my computer whiz brother?"

"Yeah…” You grimace. “This sounds illegal again.”

"Hell yeah it is. He owes me a favor too. Lemme call him."

You two go off to the side while Hood dials.

"Yeah?" comes a voice on the other end. He doesn’t sound at all like Hood, more like a one percenter from the Diamond District. This is Hood’s brother?

"Aliases only. I need you to withdraw fifty grand from Emerson Corp,” Hood says. 

"Why?”

“‘Cause you owe me a favor. Just do it.”

“Zombie breath.”

“Shortass,” Hood says, voice taking on a distinct older brother tone. 

“You’re such an asshole,” the voice says. He yawns. “B’s wondering if you’re coming tomorrow.”

“I’d rather die again,” Hood says. “And you can tell him I said that.”

“The broody emo bullshit is getting old, dude,” the voice says.

You giggle. Hood looks at you sharply. You press your lips together, properly chastened. Sorry, you mouth.

"Who's that?" the voice asks.

"No one," Hood says. "Did you do it?"

"Chill out. I'm getting past their firewall. So who is that?”

“It’s the TV,” Hood says.

“No, it’s not. That was a lady's laugh, IRL. And you wouldn’t lie if it was someone we know…”

“Mind your damn—”

“I’m helping him with a case,” you blurt. 

Hood throws his hand up, glaring at you. It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a solid ten seconds. Then…

“Holy shit,” Hood’s brother says. “You do have a girlfriend. Wait. Hold on. This is wild. You don’t even have a social security number.”

“I do not have a girlfriend!” Hood snaps, drawing the attention of some coworkers. You nudge him. He exhales through his nose.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, you little fucker,” he says, quieter. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Can I ask your girlfriend a question? Respectfully, what were you thinking? You can do so much b—”

“Text me when it’s done,” Hood growls and hangs up.

You look at each other for a moment. 

“You didn't hear any of that,” Hood says. “Got it?”

“Got it.” 

“Good. Let's see who gets scared. He should do it right about…” 

His phone beeps. You look around the room. 

Soon, your culprit reveals himself. Matt!

Holy shit. 

"He didn't want a picture," Hood says slowly. "He was frisking me! Motherfucker."

"But isn't he drunk?" you ask.

"No." Hood sighs in disgust. "How did I miss that? Br—someone I know does that all the time, spilling alcohol on himself so he smells like he's been drinking. God. Oldest trick in the book!"

"Do you think he knows you're the Red Hood?"

"No. But he might suspect something. Let's go.” 

You follow Matt out of the party. He's walking fast. Yeah. Definitely your guy. 

Down the hallway, Matt turns around and makes direct eye contact with you. You panic. 

“Hood!” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says. “Follow my lead.” 

Loudly, he laughs and puts an arm around your waist. “C’mon, baby, no one’ll know.”

And then you're being herded into a janitor’s closet. 

You stumble in, confused and reeling from how easily Hood plays the affectionate boyfriend role. He follows you in, shuts the door, and pulls the chain dangling from the ceiling. The single light bulb turns on. 

You take care to not knock over any cleaning supplies. You don't see the mop on the floor, however, and you trip backwards on the handle. 

Hood's reaction time is impeccable. He jerks forward to catch you, tugging you back on your feet with his hands on your arms. 

“Y’alright?” he asks. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, mildly mortified. “Thanks.”

He lets go. You shift on your feet. 

“How long are we gonna stay here?” you ask. 

Hood checks his phone. “Well, he should've moved on by now. Let's—”

The doorknob jiggles. You look at Hood in fear. His expression is similar. 

“Pretend!” you whisper, and that's all he needs to understand and move. 

You're expecting your arms around Hood, maybe exaggeratedly feeling him up. You are not expecting Hood to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs and press you against the wall. You squeal, arms shooting out to hold onto his neck. Hood's beard ends up in your mouth and you spit it out. 

The door swings open, revealing a very tipsy couple. 

“Oops!” the woman says, grinning. “Sorry. Carry on.”

The guy gives a thumbs-up. “True love.”

You smile awkwardly. Something is pressing into your hip.

“True love,” Hood deadpans. “Rock on.”

As soon as the door closes, you're squirming. 

“What is that?” you hiss. 

“My gun! Oh my God, it's my gun,” Hood says, quickly setting you down. “It's not…”

He trails off and backs away. You stand there, processing what just happened. 

“That wasn’t—”

“I didn’t—”

You both stop. Hood adjusts his beard. 

“You're really strong,” you say, wringing your hands. 

Hood nods. “Sorry about the, uh…”

“Yeah, let's just not talk about this.”

“Yup. Find Matt?” 

“Absolutely.” 

You open the door and peek out. The hallway is empty. Glory be.

“All clear,” you say, and Hood is on your heels as you sneak out. 

“Any ideas on where he'd go?” Hood asks. 

“Matt works in a cubicle like the rest of us. Emerson’s office is on the twelfth floor.” 

“Fine. We'll hit Emerson's office first. More privacy, and maybe they'll both be there. Two birds.”

“Emerson's office is protected by a password lock. He changes it every night,” you say, scurrying to keep up with Hood. 

“That's fine. I got a key right here,” he says, patting his holster.

“Wait! If the lock is tampered with, it sets off an alarm and security will come. You can't shoot it, Hood.”

He stops and sighs. “Why is everything so goddamn complicated? Alright, new plan. I'm gonna get my stuff from where we were and I'll break in the old-fashioned way.” 

Fifteen Minutes Later.

“This seems really unsafe!” you say, watching Hood dangle outside a three story window on a wire. He's attached to a grappling hook but still. Still! 

“Eh, I died once. Didn't stick. Hold the hook.” 

“I am!” As if you'd do anything but. You don't want the Red Hood to become Red Goo. 

Chilly December wind makes your eyes water and your nose cold. Still, you hold on. 

“Almost there!” he says. 

“Hey! What're you doing?” 

You whirl around and close your eyes due to the flashlight shining at them. Even though the lights are on. 

An elderly security guard glares at you. It's a good thing you're not an actual criminal… though after tonight, you're not so sure. 

“Um.” You try to hold onto the hook while hiding it behind your back. “Bird watching?”

The guard turns off the flashlight and tucks it into his belt. He slowly walks to you. 

“If you're doing something illegal, Miss, you're in big trouble.”

Well, this is fantastic. Of course it would be you that gets caught. 

The guard is getting closer. Your grip is sweaty. He peers over your shoulder. You let go of the hook, praying to every spirit out there that Hood is as good as everyone says he is. 

The guard looks around and scratches his head. You shrug, heart in your throat. 

“See?” you say. “Bird watching.”

He frowns at you. “I've got my eye on you.”

“And I commend you for that.” 

“Are you sassing me?” 

Are you? You might be. You've been spending too much time with Hood. 

Hood! You turn and look out the window. You don't see any red goo below, but it's also cold and foggy. Shit. You hurry to the elevators. 

“Okay, happy holidays, bye!”

The elevator doors open. You press twelve and close the door before the guard can consider getting on with you and shooting you a hairy eyeball all the way down. 

You hurry out and run down to Emerson's office. The door has been left ajar, which is good, right?

Bang!

You throw yourself against the wall. Shit. Maybe not. 

Ugh, you told Hood no shooting! Son of a bitch. 

“We're doing this tonight!” That's Emerson's voice. “I don't care if I have to shoot my way out.” 

Shoot? Oh no.

You carefully peek through the crack. Hood is standing with his hands behind his head. His beard has blood in it. Emerson is in front of him, gun to his head. 

Hood catches your eye. He gives you the tiniest head shake. You swallow. 

You can't just leave him there. 

Okay. Think. Emerson's back is to you. You can't see Matt, but you figure he's far enough away to not immediately shoot you. Hopefully. 

Anyway, what's your other option? The feisty relic upstairs? You can't risk any civilians getting hurt. 

Technically you're also a civilian but not tonight. Tonight you might as well be Batman. 

You slowly pull the door open further. You sneak in, then hide behind the secretary's desk.

“Is it done?” Emerson snaps.

That's when you see Matt in the corner on a laptop. 

“It takes time,” Matt says, obviously stressed too. 

“Well, hurry up!” Emerson looks at Hood. “Then we'll dispose of Santa here.”

Hood shrugs. “You can certainly try. Many have. ‘M still here.”

“Lots of bravado for a man in a costume,” Emerson sneers. “What are you, police?”

Hood groans. “As fucking if! I'm not a cop.” 

He hums. “Perhaps not. Otherwise this place would be crawling with them already. But you're alone.”

“How d'you know I'm alone?” Hood asks. 

You're glad he's calm because you're feeling the beginnings of another panic attack. But you can't panic, not now. The adrenaline pulsing through you is the only thing keeping you from going catatonic. 

You have no weapon, no plan. How the hell are you supposed to help Hood?

“You're bluffing,” Emerson says. 

“He has a girlfriend,” Matt says. “Some IT girl. She might come looking for him.”

“Then we'll take care of her too.”

Matt looks uncomfortable but he doesn't say anything. Hood is still cool as a cucumber. 

“She won't look for me. We had a fight. I forgot to buy the candy she likes.”

Candy? Why would—oh!

On the secretary's desk is a glass bowl filled with mini candy canes. You wrap your hands around it. 

“She knows my favorite,” Hood says, locking eyes with you.

You throw the bowl with all your might. Emerson is too slow—Hood grabs the bowl one-handed and swings it, knocking the gun from Emerson's hand. The candy explodes into pieces. Hood swings again, this time into Emerson's head. The bowl cracks. Emerson crumples to the floor. 

“Are you o—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In a blink, Hood wraps one arm around your waist and yanks you to the floor, covering your body. You curl into him on instinct. 

“I got you, I got you,” he says, patting your shoulder. “You okay?”

You nod, words not coming right now. You squeeze his hand. Hood seems to understand and he scoots you both behind Emerson’s desk. Then he loads his gun and cocks it.

“Stay here,” he says, then fires six shots. 

“Goddamnit!” Matt yells across the room. “This wasn't the plan! You're not supposed to be here!”  

Hood laughs, which is absolutely terrifying. “Don't talk to me about ruined plans, buddy. I've been waiting all night for an excuse to shoot somebody. Please make my night.” 

Matt fires four more shots. 

“Fuck you, cop!” 

“What the fuck? Fuck you more! I'm not a fucking cop!”

“Maybe it's the way you stand,” you say, teeth chattering from anxiety. 

Hood squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “I stand like a cop? Gross. I gotta work on that.” 

“You're somebody!” Matt yells. “You're not just some guy, Todd, don't lie to me. You and that chick from IT are in cahoots.”

You huff. “He knows your name but not mine?”

“I’d take it as a compliment.”

Matt fires again. Hood tucks you behind him. 

“He won’t kill anybody,” he says, with way too much confidence, in your opinion. 

“Oh, is that why he's peacefully shooting at us?”

“He's scared, sure. But he can’t kill. Trust me, I know. Hey, Matt!” 

“What?”

Hood stands up. Your eyes bug out of your head. 

“Hood!” you hiss. “Hood!”

He ignores you, of course. 

“You won’t hurt anyone,” Hood says. He starts walking toward Matt. “You're not a killer, Matt.”

And all this time you thought Hood was sort of sane. Nope. 

“I will shoot you!” Matt warns. 

“Aw. You wouldn't shoot Santy Claus, would you?” 

Matt pulls the trigger. You gasp. It clicks. The magazine is empty. 

Hood closes the distance between them and grabs the gun, then elbows Matt in the face. Matt sprawls onto the floor. 

“Yeah, I don't risk my life on human emotion,” Hood says, loud enough so you can hear. “People can be so unpredictable. I will take a chance on a gun that only fires seven rounds, though. For a guy in finance, you're not very good with numbers, Matty.” 

You sigh in relief, slumping against the desk. After tonight, you're retiring. 

“Y'okay over there?” Hood asks. 

“Yeah.”

It's quiet for a bit. Then Hood returns and offers you a hand to help you stand. You do so on shaky limbs. 

He's got a cut on his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek. You frown. 

“I'm sorry I let go of the hook. I thought—”

“You let go of the hook?”

You stop. “Um. No?” 

Hood squints at you. “Choosing to forgive you for that.” 

“I knew you were inside the office!”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“I'm not the only one taking risks,” you say. “Matt still fired at you.”

“Eh.” Hood shrugs. “He’s a crap shot. And I counted the rounds. I maintain my point. Factually, he could not shoot me.”

“You could've told me the gun was empty,” you say. 

“I wanted you to think I was cool and brave.” 

You laugh. “I already think that.”

Hood looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to see right down into your soul. Intense. You cross your arms.

“So, um, ready to ditch this party?” you ask. 

“With pleasure.”

“What about them?” you ask, pointing to Matt.

“I have backup arriving soon. Let's get your coat.” 

You get your things while Hood changes back into his usual garb. He meets you at the back exit, the one that leads to an alleyway, Santa suit gone. The party's winding down and most are getting into their cars. You're grateful no one stops to ask where you disappeared to. 

There's police outside, but they're not here for Emerson. It's Bill that's being questioned by Commissioner Gordon. You stop short at the sight. 

“Hood… what did you do?” 

“Hm? Oh! There might have been some discrepancies in Bill's finances and he might have committed fraud to pay off his gambling debts. All circumstantial, though.”

“Please don't tell me you framed my coworker because he's a jerk,” you say. 

“No, but I'm not above that, for the record. I recognized Bill from when I was casing the Iceberg Lounge. That's where he racked up all that debt.”

You nod slowly. “That's how you knew his name.”

“Yup. He was a nobody, so I didn't bother with him. Had I known he was such a menace at work, well…”

You grin. “It's okay. I appreciate it now.” 

Hood nods. The silence is awkward for a few seconds. 

“So—”

“You don't have to keep working here,” he says. “You can leave if you wanna.”

“Hood…”

He puts up a hand. “Hear me out. I have a contact at Wayne Enterprises. I can get you an interview. Hell, I can get you the job.”

“And what would I owe you?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Think of it as a thank you for tonight. You didn't have to help me but you did.”

You open and close your mouth. “I don't… I don't know what to say.”

“Don't gotta say a thing,” Hood says quietly. “If anyone deserves a new year, it's you.”

“Oh.” Your throat feels tight suddenly. “Oh, Hood, that's really—that's nice of you.”

“It's been known to happen. Don't spread it around though.”

“But I don't want the job without interviewing!” you say. “I want to get it on my own.”

Hood nods. “Deal.”

You want to hug him but that seems like too much, even with all you’ve done tonight. So you take out a candy cane instead.

“I salvaged one from the bowl,” you say. “Merry Christmas, Hood.”

He takes it, tucking it into his pocket. “Merry Christmas. Need a ride?”

You shake your head. “I'm fine. See you around?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Stay safe, alright?”

“Oh, I will. Will you?”

He laughs. “No promises.” 

Then you blink and he's gone. You shove your hands into your coat pockets. 

In each pocket, there's a handful of Warheads. You smile.

[thydungeongal]

While I think later editions of D&D have carved out a justified niche for the Thief/Rogue as an archetype, as a class it still feels weird in the context of the original game. Many people, myself included, have articulated this before, but the sort of funny implication is that a class whose abilities include moving silently, picking locks, and hiding in the shadows suddenly carves out a big piece of the fictional space and says "so none of the other classes can do these things."

But I feel there is another way to look at it: instead of looking at it like "oh, the thief class locks out the other classes from having access to certain tools," it can be viewed from the angle of "the thief class creates a bunch of new obstacles, and then hoards all the tools for overcoming those obstacles onto itself."

Locked doors are the best example here: the original edition of the game in those three little brown books was, at the end of the day, a complete game. A party didn't need a thief to pick locks, because doors were not generally locked; they were stuck, and needed to be forced open with strength (and then spiked open to prevent them from swinging shut behind the party). The only mention of locked doors is within the context of the knock spell which. Yeah that's actually a fair cop, the knock spell is also a solution looking for a problem, because the existence of a spell that opens doors locked via magic necessitates the existence of doors locked via magic. But the spell opens other things, including (probably) those aforementioned stuck doors, so at the very least it has multiple use cases.

But yeah that's the thing: the original game didn't have mundane locked doors and thus it didn't require a party to have a character with a set of mundane lockpicks. What the Greyhawk supplement created was a situation where there now was a guy with a set of lockpicks who could use them to open locked doors some of the time. So now the dungeon needed to have locked doors.