Not Genre Savvy

The bank was generic: a robust gray block of a building.  The entryway was a checkerboard of black and white tiles, obscured by one long, black rug.  Along both walls were banks of ATMs, a couple in use by patrons.

A young man entered, dress in a gray hoodie and dark pants.  He seemed nervous, glancing back out the glass doors.  Glancing at the ATMs, he soon moved on, knowing they'd be of no use to him.

"Hoodie" entered the atrium, illuminated by a grand skylight.  The first thing he noticed was the gaudy piece of sh- modern art that stood in the center of the room.  Hoodie thought it looked like a giant phallus.

Aside from the monster, Hoodie noticed that the checkerboard pattern continued intothe atrium, if turned 45 degrees.  The sides of the atrium were lined with cubicles, used by the banks many advisors when councilling clients.  However, what Hoodie wanted was behind the horrible sculpture...A long counter filled the back of the atrium, faux-wood desks with security cages to protect the dozen or so tellers.

Hoodie quickly moved to the counter, speaking with an atractive redhead in a dark green blazer and likely matching skirt.  Her nametag read "Susan."

"H-hi, er."  Hoodie was shifty, glancing back to the doors frequently, as though expecting someone..."I-I-I need to make a withdrawl?"

The teller was already suspicious, keeping a finger near the silent alarm.  With her other hand she passed the youth a blank slip of paper.  "Of course, sir," she said.  "Please fill out your account information and I'll see what I can do."

"No, I don't- I don't an account."  Hoodie glanced at the door again.  "Some lunatic has my sister outside, in his car.  He said if I don't bring him fifty thousand dollars, he'll kill her."  Leaning in close, he practically begged, "please just give me the money and-"

"Freeze!"  The voice came from behind him and hoodie caught his mistake: he forgot about security.  "Put your hands on the desk," the guard ordered.  Seeing no option, Hoodie obeyed.  The guard eased forward, holstering his Baretta and taking out his handcuffs.

Before the steel could touch him, Hoodie snapped back, kicking the guard in the shin.  His arms moved as well.  Grabbing the man's collar, Hoodie dragged his head down into the desk, knocking him cold.  Before he fell, Hoodie snapped up the guard's 9mm.

Hoodie pointed the weapon at the teller.  "Just give me the money.  I need it for..."  He trailed off.  By now his skiddish facade was gone.  "You aren't buying anything now, are you?" The hooded man made no move to stop the client that rushed to the exit.  By now, the silent alarm was ringing (though he couldn't hear it) and his only chance now was to run.

Tucking the stolen pistol into his pants, Hoodie rushed the exit...

Arienne had money.  For most this probably wasn't that big a deal, at least not until you got into the really big figures, but for the teenage runaway it was.  To say that life had changed dramatically in recent memory would be an understatement and the act of running away was only the beginning.  The joining of Rise, now, that was where the true changes lie.  In the instant of deciding to take Lucius' hand and step out of her comfortable if impoverished world she had transformed herself from a no one with some cool powers to someone with a chance to truly make a difference in the world.

In truth, Arienne hadn't quite managed to assimilate the entirety of what that actually meant yet.  In theory it sounded great, almost too good to be true.  In practice?  Well, in practice she had yet to figure out what the words meant in the context of her new life.  The one thing she was certain of was that she had actual money for the first time in memory.

Actual money implied that an actual bank account might be needed instead of simply stashing a few extra bills in whatever convenient nook or cranny she happened to have available. Thus, she found herself standing in line at a bank with just such an intent.  Absurdly, she felt nervous about the whole prospect and angry at herself for feeling nervous. It was just a bank account for gods' sake, what did she have to feel nervous about?  It wasn't as if she felt like she wasn't good enough to have one...was it?  Absurd!

Two stops from the front of the line and Arienne noticed the man with the hoodie enter the bank.  Something of criminal herself, she noted him immediately, keeping an eye on how things might develop.  When the gun came out it wasn't of great surprise and she knew there was likely a silent alarm going crazy and summoning police help.  The question was, did she take on the uncomfortable role of hero and stop the would be thief or did she let things lie?  What would her new...employers?  Benefactors?  Something anyway. What would they think?

In a snap decision, Arienne made the decision that being the hero might not be such a bad idea after all and as the man ran past her, she turned and a black tendril shot out of the palm of her hand in an attempt to trip him before he got out of range.

"Hoodie" knew he needed to leave, knew how deep heed be in if the police showed up.

Suddenly there was pressure on his ankle and Hoodie's foot wasn't moving anymore.  He pitched forward, though as he did, he instinctively kicked his legs high, tucking his head for a roll.  His shoulder came down, then his whole arm at once, pushing himself back to his feet easily.

As he rose, though, Hoodie was turning, a helpful side effect of his ukemi.  His eyes wandered, seeing the peculiar black cord he had tripped over, following the line to its source...

He was stunned.  Hoodie saw the blackness coiled about a young woman's open hand.  It was impossible.  Unnatural.  It was...

About as possible for jellied brain to repair itself.

Hoodie had not stopped moving, continuing his sprint, thouh he now angled toward D-spire in the middle of the room.  Skidding to a stop, he took cover behind the evil mo-art.  He removed the Baretta from his waistband, clicked off the safety, and leaned out only slightly.

"You don't want this, lady," Hoody promised, peering around the sculpture...