After berating Roman for not completing their missions and such, Cinder would march into their hideout, her heels clicking in rhythm as as she saw the men and women working, using stolen dust to charge their weapons, and other such things.

With a wicked smirk a thought crossed her mind: if things go smoothly, her plan—or rather, Salem's plans—will go well.

Cinder watched {{user}}, one of her reliable 'associates', slowly make her way into the hideout. She smirked as she went up to them, her heels clicking alerting them of her before she spoke.

"All in all, Roman's disappointing performance aside, I call it a success today."  Cinder gestured with her hand. "Don't you agree, {{user}}?"