Cold, Hard, Cash [OPEN]

The day was cold and crisp, white flakes of snow glittered in the morning air, falling gently onto the concrete of the urban jungle that is Toronto, Ontario. Martyr - AKA Ashley Cresswell - stood on the roof of a nearby office building in full costume. He was looking at a bank about a block away, certain that this would be a big enough score to at least pay their rent for another month. The landlord had been breathing down their necks for quite some time, and it was about time that Martyr got to it. Across the street from the bank; there was a park filled with people. He didn't want them getting in the crosshairs if things got... Hairy. Even though he could heal from actual death; he was certain that at least 80% of the crowd down there probably couldn't.
He checked a pocket watch from his coat pocket; it was almost noon on a Saturday. He knew he saw kids down below fighting with snowballs. He didn't quite know what to do, but he did now he was out of time. The landlord gave the 24 hours to either pay him or get out of the apartment building. Therefore, he had no choice in the matter. He ripped open the nearly frozen door, noting that his hand stuck momentarily to the handle of the door.

Running down the stairs, he made his way to the elevator; alarms blaring all around him. He had a feeling that he was causing a distraction that would give him just enough time to pull this off. He figured a breaking and entering at a closed office building on a weekend would attract a good amount of attention of the local police - and probably any mounties who were in the area - thus leaving Martyr's target to be the security guards inside. He didn't want to hurt them, of course. But he figured as long as they were down and out of attention; the rest would simply be easy pickings.

Busting out of the front door; he heard some sirens in the distance. He had to hurry it would seem. He cut through an alleyway just as the first police cruiser skidded out over the nearest hill to stop in front of the building. Martyr found himself face to face with the bank and put his hands on a pocket knife he kept in his pocket. Trying to decide if he was even prepared to stab himself focusing on an innocent man. Luckily, he didn't have to. A kid ran by with a snowball and threw it in the face of the security guard. The guard - who apparently had major anger issues - chased the laughing boy down the street yelling death threats. Martyr silently thanked inattentive parents.

Walking into the small bank; he ripped out his pair of white and silver dueling pistols. "Let's get this over with!" He yelled and shot one of his guns into the air as punctuation. "I am Martyr, and I am here for your cash! Throw all your wallets to the center of the room or risk triggering my awesome power!" He yelled, bluffing about his overall badass-ness. A small group of people fell onto their bellies and threw their valuables to the center of the marble floor. Meanwhile, he heard the sirens staying in around the same area with some horse clopping coming up on the street. So far, no police intervention. But he was 60% sure that at least one of the tellers activated the silent alarm. He looked around the room; 10 civilians, 2 bank tellers, and a missing security guard. The walls were wooden with a marble accent wall inlaid with gold. A silver chandelier hung from - you guessed it - a white marble ceiling, casting yellowish light around the room. There were only 2 tellers stations and apparently just the one security guard. Huh, he'd have to remember this place for later heists.

It never occurred to Shango that someone would have the gall to rob such a quaint location. With the unsettling intensity following the sound of the silver firearm, Shango instinctively dropped to the ground (her first instinct to the sound of firing was to drop to the ground, but this was an archaic feeling, fleeting now given her familiarity with such situations); her ragged duffel bag plopped onto her her back, the sound of her belonging shuffling about.

Upon reaching the ground, Shango let out an audible "oof", perhaps much louder than the other individuals nearby. Letting out a loud sigh, Shango proceeded to make an obnoxious amount of noise, voicing her annoyance, rather than fear of the situation. Rather than doing the smart and compliant thing to do, she instead places an arm out and slouches her cheek on her hand, tapping her fingers in rhythm against her skin, pinky to index. Further exacerbating her disgust, she begins muttering (albeit not silent enough that one couldn't catch her words), "I really hope this doesn't take long," she begins shortly after hitting the ground, "I've got a lot of things to do today." As her statement comes to a close she begins reaching into one of the tiny pockets lining the underside of her joggers' waistband, hoping to take hold of something within.

For the first time in centuries, a female Native American warrior was spotted in Toronto.  Some people stared at her.  Some ran away, as if seeing a ghost.

Medicine Woman hated all this attention being paid to her, but it couldn't be helped. She was acting on a tip about some kind of criminal activity.  When she arrived deeper into the city, she certainly didn't expect a bank robbery in progress!

Her reaction was quick and decisive. She notched an arrow into her bow as she ran to the besieged bank.  Upon her arrival, Medicine Woman saw a female who was all purple. She didn't see what the woman was doing.

((OOC: Shango can see Medicine Woman quite clearly.))

Martyr was busy picking up wallets and heading for the teller's station when a voice called from behind him. It was feminine, but that's about all he could tell from the sing-song voice. "Listen, I don't know who you are, but I'm assuming you're a superhero." He said gritting his teeth behind his mask, preparing for an impact should the hero decide to attack before he was even turned around. "You really, really don't want to mess with me today." He said trying to put as much power behind his voice as he could - attempting to sound threatening.

He turned around and changed the color of his goggles to red; hoping instinct would take over for her and she'd run away, but knowing it was more likely for the queen herself to walk through the door. "So just do us both a favor and get out!" He yelled and put the knife to his own shoulder focusing directly on the woman. She may have felt the pressure of the blade up against her own shoulder.

With the burst of the doors yet again, Shango darted her eyes to the new body standing before the once quaint establishment. "This world is never short of its' share of loonies", she muttered under her breath once again as she reached into her pocket. Her cheek still firmly resting on her left hand, her right hand grasped the phone, retrieving it forth. A model outdated by about a year or so with a sleek black case, surrounded by a charcoal colored rubber. The screen was slightly cracked in in a "Y" shape down the center.  

After a brief respite and a quick glance at the time, Shango shot her focus back at the initial assailant of the bank. Ever the curious type, she quizzically studied the knife suspiciously placed at the mans' shoulder. "This sick sonnofa.." Her attention fixated on the scene, Shango couldn't help but pry her eyes away, somehow more interested in the contents of her phone, which buzzed in her hand after a few moments.

He stared at the Native American woman; he was obviously doing his best to continue his tough guy facade. "I need this money, and if you won't stand down... Then I guess all I can do is defeat you." He said grimacing as he looked around for a less... Lethal weapon before settling on a cane an old man had dropped before brandishing it like a sword - albeit clumsily.

"Please... Just don't make this harder than it has to be." He said keeping a straight face; though, in his voice, it was clear he really didn't want to do this right now. "I'm not going to hurt these people. I promise you that." He said and just as he did, a random person tried jumping him from behind. Reacting on instinct alone; he turned to the person and whacked them broad across the face with the cane. With a heavy thwack and a loud thump, a second security guard - obviously a rookie - crumpled to the floor unconscious. "...that one wasn't really my fault..." He muttered.

"Alright this has gone on far enough," no longer muttering, Shango's voice became audibly angry. With a single motion, she threw both of her hands to the ground, landing directly on her knuckles, and pushed forward with a loud grunt. Sliding her left knee forward and in a quick motion jumped to both of her feet, Shango in mere seconds launched up to a semi-crouching stance, before slowly rising to a fully erect, herculean stance; her shoulders broad and back, chest poking forward, legs ajar and one leg forward, she assumed a nearly heroic (and impressive six feet and a bit over half of another foot tall) visage.

The gentle light of the room bounced off of her earthly skin; a gloss nearly overtook the  exposed flesh of her face and hands, and what little of her neck that was not hidden by her large scarf looped three times over. The heat of the moment overtook as a slight of perspiration rolled down her forehead onto the headband covering her Inner Eye and down over her ears (but fashionably of course, exposing her clear 00 gages) .

With a rapid slump of the shoulder, her duffel bag falls flat against the ground near her, making a soft sound revealing the bag consisting of mostly clothing and other light and otherwise vapid contents. Intently staring at the threatening man before her, Shango began, "Hey, this needs to end," first at an indoor voice, "because you're screwing with a lot of peoples' time with this fiasco of yours, namely mine!". leading to a shout as she goes on. During her speech, her eyes cautiously dart to the woman nearby.

((Edited, my mistake.))

(( OOC: Medicine Woman's bow and arrow aren't drawn.  She lowered them down to her hip, lightly touching against her upper thigh.  She's [u]trying[u] to convince Martyr to trust her by doing that.))

The purple woman's shouting caught Medicine Woman's attention.  She came up with an idea.  Dividing her attention between the armed man in the bank and the shouting woman, she addressed the woman (Shango).  "Ma'am, I am called Medicine Woman.  I am not native to Toronto though my people, Native Americans, were natives...centuries ago. In their memory, not for my sake and to save all the people around this area, would you consider helping me?"  She hoped the woman heard her and hoped even more strongly that she would agree.

((OOC: Sorry :-). I have a cheap standard keyboard. It doesn't have any fancy umlauts and accent marks. Please forgive me for not putting that little smile-like accent mark on top of the "o" of Shango's name.))

From across the street a man stood watching the scene at the bank unfold with interest. His odd outfit standing out in the Canadian city. Making up his mind he decided to crash this heist and hopefully make some money off the poor thug trying to rob the place.

He readjusted his helmet and walked through the bank's main doors smiling at the scene before him; "Now what do we have here hmm?"

Her eyes darting over to the speaking individual, Shango diverted her attention away from the armed man for a brief moment, taking a second to lash out, "Do I look like a costumed caper," before long, looking back at the gunner, eyes peeled for any sudden movements, she continued, "Look, guy, it doesn't have to be this way. These are innocent people looking minding their own business, let's not get too hasty now."

She held steadfast in her herculean stance, nearly heroic even. As words were slung across the room, the panicked sounds of the terrified people about her were drowned out by her own thoughts. Taking this moment of clarity, Shango slammed her eyes shut, scrunching her nose against her forehead, resisted by the  lengthy  bridge of between them; her teeth present, nearly snarling like a rabid beast, her darkened gums present, and impressively bright pearly whites clenched, crashing against one another.

With a moments notice, the fabric of her headband shifted, making a nuanced ruffle against her head; her Inner Eye, although obstructed, sprang open. Albeit distracted by the roughness of the cloth against her Inner Eye, she still managed vision of the area around her. Every second precious, she began planning her next move, starting by counting out the people in the room, murmuring under her breath, "One armed man, one woman, the tellers...", treading off as her concentration became increasingly acute.

Does someone approach? Mentally verbalizing to herself, The authorities? No no no no no, no one would come here alone... Her expression shifts to that akin to fascination, or perhaps morbid curiosity, given the people she has found herself betwixt.


{{Ultragal: Purple Woman? Shango is't purple o.o don't let my avatar fool you, it was for a scrapped character, but I like the way it looks (I'm not too concerned about correcting previous instances of saying so, no worries) , but as far as the accent over the O is concerned, I don't even do it so no worries.}}

Knightfall stepped into the main room surveying the scene taking place; there were three people still standing, one of them he recognized as Martyr, the other two he wasn't sure. But he did notice that the one with the headband was in fact using her mind's eye. So deciding to give her a rude awakening, he entered her mind briefly providing her with the memory of his sister's murder. He then opened his arms addressing the room, a crooked smile on his face hidden behind his helmet's visor.

"Good afternoon Toronto!" his voice echoing around the room. He then brandished his Deagle from his coat pocket and fired once shooting a cowering civilian through his head. "And goodnight." He laughed relishing in the panicked screams of the other civilians, then holstering his gun he walked off towards the bank vault.

"So much for diplomacy...", Medicine Woman's thoughts told her.  She eyed the Mountie's horse.  She walked over . "Officer, would you please be so kind as to dismount your horse? I will return him.  In fact, take these..."She gave all her stuff to the Mountie: bow, arrow quiver, knife & tomahawk.  "Hold them as a token of good faith.  When I return the horse, please give them back to me.  They are of...sentimental value."

The Mountie agreed.  The horse sniffed at Medicine Woman for a moment...and then galloped into action.  Of course, the acrid smell of the discharged weapon kept the horse away from the bank.  So much the better.  

It ran around the outside perimeter of the bank.  He was a big, strong horse.  Medicine Woman hoped that at least three citizens would act fast.  Fast enough to mount the horse while the new...intruder was walking to the vault.

The horse was enough of a distraction, hopefully, so that Medicine Woman could enter the bank. With the light step her people are famous for ((OOC:  Similar to "trackless step".  It's a Ranger & Druid spell in Dungeons & Dragons that allows walking/running without leaving tracks for foes to follow)), she entered the bank try to tend to the bank patron felled with an obvious blunt blow. She wanted to try to revive him. Apparently, he was a bank guard, judging by his uniform.

((OOC:  MW's "meta" power is "scent memory".  It works only on animals, of course. Generally, the animal remembers MW's great-grandmother's scent.  She travelled literally everywhere whenever nature or nature's creatures needed her. The animal she helped remembers her scent.  This is passed down to their offspring.  It activates a "pay it forward" reaction  for later generations after the first animal who was helped.  The horse acted so fast for this reason.  It's in the app, but I can't find it ATM.))

Medicine Woman hoped the horse would keep galloping close enough to the frightened citizens so that they'd ride him away from the scene.  She hoped the horse would go back as many times as neccessary until all the terrified citizens were safe by bringing three at a time, riding on him,  to the Mountie he worked with.   She also hoped the Mountie would do whatever he could to protect all the people to the best of his ability.

((OOC:  Next post/reply?  :-)  ))

As soon as Knightfall entered the room; he knew this would be less than good. He'd only met him on one other occasion. Martyr has difficult recalling how it ended; but he didn't like the man either.

Then he shot a patron the head. Martyr stood shocked for a moment then turned to the people. Martyr had gotten their money already. He had credit cards. Cash. Checks. But he didn't want their lives. Knightfall took this way too  far way too fast.

"Everybody scram!" He yelled and fired his guns into the air once more to the horror of the patrons who moved quickly to the exit.

"Knightfall, what the fuck?!" Martyr yelled as he focused on the helmeted man. He kept his knife at his arm in case he needed to shut him down without killing him. "I don't want to have to hurt you Knightfall; but... this is too far!"