Automated Withdrawal (IC)

[Elegy]

GM

 

Saturday, July 20th, 2013

3:00 PM

 

"How can I help you, Ms. Harris?" Ed Tower smiled as a weathered and familiar face reached the front of the line, beckoning the old lady over to the counter. She looked up and returned the smile, scooting her walker step by step over the faded red rug until she could lean against the wooden teller's booth. Panting and shaking a little though she was, he had to give her credit; using her own two feet at the age of ninety-one was an accomplishment, especially in this muggy midday heat.

 

"I'd like a roll of quarters, please, Ed," she croaked, eyes twinkling behind thick glasses studded with countless pink rhinestones. "My grandkids are coming over, and since I can't play hide-and-go-seek any more I need something else for them to look for! Drew and Martha said 'just use candy', but I worry about their poor little teeth! Amos was a dentist, you know, and what would he say if he were still alive, God rest his soul? And what trouble can they possibly get up to with quarters? They can't buy anything now, though in my day..."

 

Ed kept smiling, nodding at the appropriate times and asking the appropriate questions as he fished out a roll of quarters. Ms. Harris came in at least once a week to ask for something minor and let out a torrent of speech in the meantime. It was good her grandkids were coming to visit; the poor dear was probably dreadfully lonely sitting alone in that big old house of hers. He didn't mind taking a little extra time to let her vent; this Hannover Credit Union branch had air conditioning, and he was paid by the hour.

 

As Ed slid the quarters toward her, he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his forehead. "Ed, dear, are you alright?" Confused, he clapped a hand to the spot; it came away sticky. A slightly-bloodied quarter dropped to the wooden counter, spinning on its edge for a moment before coming to rest. Ed stared at it, then at the tiny smear of blood on his hand, utterly baffled. Then the plastic containing the roll of coins burst like a popped bag of chips, sending quarters streaming in every direction at incredible speed.

 

All hell broke loose. The rug Ms. Harris was standing on reached up and wrapped itself around her, shunting her walker out of the way as it dragged her down in a flurry of red shag carpet and garish purple clothing. A ceiling fan dropped right onto Phil the security guard's head, knocking him cold. Several of the safety deposit boxes sprang open, hitting poor Amanda - who had been storing something in one for another customer - in the temple and spinning her to the ground.

 

As light fixtures exploded and chairs rose up on two of their legs, bending themselves to menace everyone within reach, people ran screaming through the double doors. A whirring sound to Ed's left brought him out of his state of shock: the ATMs were pushing out money as fast as they could go, dropping it into several duffel bags waiting just beneath them. Having worked there for years, Ed has the presence of mind to push the silent alarm before a standing lamp clouted him across the back of the head.

Edited July 22, 2013 by Elegy

[Elegy]

The deep orange portal snapped shut behind Seth, leaving him crouched on the flat cement roof of a busy laundromat. Harsh sunlight beat down on him, as it had for the past several hours; he pawed at the collar of his overcoat, wiping a way a trickle of sweat before it could run down his back. Perhaps the locals were right to be wearing their "tank-tops" and "cutoff shorts" in such weather, but he couldn't bring himself to join them. His garments were a comforting reminder of who he really was.

 

Besides, he would rather bake to death than wear something called a "wife-beater," even one offered for free.

 

He'd been out all day, teleporting from rooftop to rooftop across the city as he tried to pick up the trail of the mask. At first he'd thought his Second Sight would make it easy, but he had underestimated the sheer size of the city. It extended further in every direction than he could have imagined, tall spires and sprawling suburbs and subway tunnels, and everywhere there was interference, lingering magic old and new. The advice that it lay "within the city" no longer seemed to narrow the search in any significant way.

 

He stood up, scanning the area with his Autumn-colored gaze, and permitted himself a sigh. Even with instantaneous teleportation, a block by block search in sufficient detail was going to take... well, he had no idea, but far, far too long. The mask might hide itself, might be just the tiniest glimmer on his perception. He squinted, as though that would somehow help a sense that, in truth, had little to do with his eyes. And when he turned around, he took a step back in shock.

 

A block away, people were streaming out of a small but well-designed stone structure at a run, panic written on their faces. And then, before his very eyes, a tendril of carpeting seized a middle-aged man around the middle and pulled him, shouting in terror, back through the doors. The whole scene shone like a bonfire before his Second Sight; magic was afoot, and magic sorely misused. A wave of his hand brought his portal up to engulf him, depositing him in front of the doors - and at the heart of the chaos.

 

"Good woman," he called to one of the fleeing bank patrons, "what's happening?" Wobbling on her high heels, staring at him with wide eyes and smeared mascara, she spared him one terrified glance. "The bank... it's come alive!" And then she ran as fast as her legs would carry her.

Edited July 24, 2013 by Elegy

[Avenger Assembled]

For his part, Comrade Frost had been out walking as well. His time in Freedom City was coming to an end as the League prepared to rotate in another foreign observer, and he'd found himself with an odd desire to see more of the place before he left for another few decades. And so it was, as the bank descended into chaos, the former Soviet hero was simply drifting through the alleys nearby as a bank of icy fog. When he realized what was happening, he decided to get the attention of the beings inside and drifted around the bank to settle by the front door. The fellow out front in the strange costume looked trustworthy enough, so Frost formed back into his body - a short, white-and-blue clad man in a parka, and gave him a nod.

 

A faint breath of icy cold spread around the thermovore, and magic cold and dead to Seth's second sight, as he spoke to the time-displaced magus. "Welcome to city, friend. I am Comrade Frost. Come, let us save those in need," his Russian accent thick as he spoke before he turned from Gloaming and headed straight for the building's front door. 

[ChrisClark13]

Amelyth was flying around after school in her Hero attire (just for the joy of flying about really) when she decided to rest on the rooftop of the building across the street from the bank. She was just about to lie down on it too when she saw a large group of people suddenly burst out of the bank, running as fast as they could. She watched in interest as she saw two heroes suddenly appear in front of the bank. Amelyth scrambled to her feet after a moment and flew down to join them, not wanting to be left out. And besides, she's in costume, being a Hero right now, it would be wrong of her not to check it out!

 

She walked up behind them and started talking, "What's going on here..." She said as she looked inside, "...that's crazy..." The heroine tilts her head with her mouth slightly agape as she does her best to comprehend what her eyes are seeing. She shakes her head and her eyes light up with psionic energy, looking to the other heroes for guidance for a moment since they seem to be older and more experienced to her since she hadn't dealt with any super-crime yet personally. "So we just beat up the furniture right? Oh! And I'm Amelyth, nice to meet you two."

[Brown Dynamite]

Erick hesitated to put on his uniform in the daytime usually.  Standing around and getting in the public view wasn't how Foreshadow was supposed to operate.  Not to mention it cut into his personal time more than he would have liked.  However, Erick had had a far different methodology from his predecessor.  And with it an enjoyment in getting Big Al's bloodset boiling with public appearances to show him that the man was still going.  It was a bit petty, but above all it was just plain fun.

 

It helped that he had picked up the most unusual radio chatter through his mask.  Something about a bank turning on its patrons.  It was just too entertaining of a possibility to pass up.  How many times does one get the opportunity to tackle on a building gone all rise of the machines?  I might take a bit too much enjoyment from my work sometimes.  The prodigious gymnast quickly set foot towards the bank coming up on the trio about ready to get to work.  "So how about we make this dance number into a quartet?"

Edited July 23, 2013 by HG Morrison

[Avenger Assembled]

"Will be no problem," the Russian hero assured what looked like all young people surrounding him. "Freedom City has many bank robberies and people come through all right." Privately he thought that was a natural vice of such a capitalist city, but wealth redistribution where people were being threatened with harm was naturally something any decent person would oppose. Out loud, he clapped all the young people on the shoulder, his hands distinctively icy cold through his heavy gloves. "Come, let us save these people from capitalism run amuck, eh?" And then with a Centurion wink, he transformed again into icy fog and poured his way underneath the doors, leading the way into whatever threats lay on the other side! It was the least he could do. 

[Elegy]

GM

 

As Comrade Frost slid easily under the doors and the other heroes, lacking the ability to follow in the same medium, eased them open by hand, they were met with a peculiar sight. Eight people of various ages, unconscious and badly bruised, lay slumped on the patterned carpet or draped over the wooden counter. The safety deposit boxes across the counter were upending themselves into duffel bags, while more duffel bags sat beneath the ATMs off to the right, accepting a stream of dollar bills.

 

Sensing the presence of interlopers, however, the entire bank sprang immediately into frenzied action. A pair of standing lamps twisted, slid, and hopped toward the heroes, swinging their heavy heads like maces while their trailing cords whipped out to trip and entangle. A filing cabinet leapt end over end, charging forward to crush everyone in its path. Strips of the carpet tore loose, reaching out like tentacles to ensnare those nearby. Three disconnected ceiling fans flew forward like helicopters, determined to mince these new enemies.

 

Behind the heroes, a station wagon and two parking meters leapt to obey some inaudible command, closing in to cut off the retreat. The meters hopped, dragging the chunks of cement that had once anchored them, and a click from inside each signaled the loading of a vicious barrage of quarters. The car rose up on its back tires, the pipes and other workings of its underside pulling away to become a menacing array of dicing and bludgeoning instruments.

 

And then, to top it all off, the emergency sprinklers came on, rapidly drenching all those within.

[Azuth65]

Silver Spider swung from a webline off the side one apartment building to land atop the roof of a building across the street from the bank the other heroes were currently gathering around. She was about to jump down and join them when the one in the parka suddenly turned into a vaguely human shaped bank of fog before slipping through a crack in the doors.  Recovering from her surprise, she jumped down just as the doors clicked behind the other heroes.  Before she could reach for the door herself however, she hear the cracking of concrete and creaking of a car's suspension behind her.  Looking up at the menacing vehicle she suppressed a shudder, Oh yeah, this isn't going to induce nightmares about my car attacking me next time I need to do any work.

[Brown Dynamite]

Reaching for the clips that holstered his escrima sticks Foreshadow twirled the bludgeoning tools in hand as he neared the nearest carpet.  Raising an escrima stick overhead before slamming it down to hit the rug dead center.

 

*Thud*

 

The rug was slammed full force on to the ground beneath slumping over ever so slightly.  A feat that would be more impressive were he not fighting furniture.  Although at this point Foreshadow felt the term fighting was being used quite generously upon contact he felt not response.  Clearly if the blow had its intended effect the blonde man was the last to know as the rug's lack of flesh and blood was clearly working against him at the moment.  Looking around at the others hoping at least one of them had an understanding of the intricate anatomy of a sentient rug.  Or lack thereof.   "Would now be a good time to ask if there's a super hero guild of carpenters lying around on someone's speed dial?"

[ChrisClark13]

Amelyth took a deep breath and made an uppercut slash at one of the strips of carpet, tearing it into strips, and followed up with a slash from her other hand that tore what was left of the carpet from the floor with a satisfying ripping noise. The bits that were still on the floor squirmed a bit as she looked around at all the other heroes that had shown up to help. Assuming that she was the only one with real slashing weaponry she yelled out, "I've got the carpets, you guys smash the rest of the furniture!"

 

She looked around at the rest of the carpets she had volunteered to take on and pulled her wings in a little closer to protect herself. Okay, I've got this. Nothing I can't handle. Hopefully they can keep the rest of the junk off of me.

[Elegy]

Figuratively rolling up his sleeves to deal with this bizarre misuse of the arcane, Seth was surprised to find himself suddenly surrounded by a colorful group of men and women. The Twilight Angel had filled him with knowledge of these "superheroes," but it was still strange to see them in action! As he understood it, they were like an auxiliary town watch (or police department, in modern terminology), but with incredible powers of diverse origin and effect. It was good to see them respond so swiftly to this sudden crisis!

 

The Russian in the thick blue coat, first on the scene, put the young mage ill at ease. He did not merely feel the cold on him, he saw it in him, a dead, roiling winter that clashed with the autumn of his own power. Could this man really be a hero with power such as this? "Thank you," he cautiously replied to the man's words of welcome. The winter mage was polite, and seemed to be on the side of right, but the opposed natures of their energies made him feel queasy if he looked too long. Fortunately, the arrival of two more heroes tore his mind from the matter.

 

The rather young woman in purple and white seemed earnest enough, though she was younger even than he, and he could not help but notice that she was rather pretty. The other youth, of his own age if he did not miss his guess, wore the flowing cloak and dark, mysterious clothes of a mage, but Seth could see no magic on him. He made some confusing comment about a dance that the dusk mage pretended to understand, nodding his head. "I am called Gloaming," he said with a formal half-bow, "and I would welcome your aid."

 

He wondered what on Earth these modern people must think of the youth with seventeenth century clothes, an eyepatch, and a glowing gaze, but concluded that their own costumes were bizarre enough that they had little room to judge.

 

Their entrance into the mad scene within the bank momentarily forestalled conversation. Devices whose names Seth only vaguely knew, and which he had never seen before, ripped themselves from walls and ceilings to lurch at them, a deadly tide of metal and plastic! As Amelyth and the cloaked youth laid into the twining carpets, Seth cast around for the most immediate threat. His eyes settled on the heavy filing cabinet bearing down on Comrade Frost. Reaching out, he twisted his hands through an arcane pattern, brow furrowed in concentration.

 

The cabinet, scooting and rolling across the floor with bone-crushing momentum, was borne into the air mid-spin, seized by invisible hands. Seth, struggling to hold the object as it rippled and writhed in his ethereal grip, cast his gaze over to the bags and ATMs. In his day paper money was a newfangled thing used only in the Massachusetts Bay colony and a few places on the Continent, but he knew that it was now both widespread and valuable. Whoever the perpetrator of this mystic affront was, it was clear what they were after.

 

"I was under the impression that guilds ceased to exist quite some time ago," the confused mage replied, entirely missing the point of Foreshadow's banter. Worried that he was already showing himself to be hopelessly ignorant, he did not ask what "speed dial" was.

 

With a flick of his wrist, Seth sent the filing cabinet flying at the bag closest to the entrance of the bank, tipping it and spilling the notes inside. More cash cascaded from the ATM, striking the side of the cabinet and scattering over the floor as the animated metal struggled to right itself. But the dent he'd put in the object, and the scattering of the paper files within, made him rethink his triumphant smile. "If at all possible," he said with a guilty grimace, "we should try to avoid undue damage to these objects. They are someone's livelihood."

 

He caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye: another superhero had arrived outside, but was being menace by yet more animated objects, one of them large enough to squash her flat! Thinking quickly, Seth opened one of his deep orange portals, bending space and time between where the young woman in the web-like costume stood and the spot where Amelyth had just shredded one of the rugs so thoroughly it could not rise again. "Milady, beware!" He couldn't be sure his shout would reach her through the thick glass doors.

 

Then again, she'd probably been doing this a lot longer than he had. Whether or not she trusted the offer of his portal, he was certain she was competent enough to survive this. Whether or not he would prove to be was another matter entirely, he reflected, as the standing lamp bore down on him with a vicious swing of its lightbulb...

[Avenger Assembled]

Swiftly removing a glove, Frost glided over to the bound car and gripped its bumper tightly with one hand. "Stop what you are doing," he told the animate object, hoping it was sentient enough to listen to reason. When it did not listen, he unhesitatingly drew inward the heat of the car - first its revving engine, then its lights and battery, and then deeper still. The car crashed suddenly to the earth and stopped its momentum, Silver Spider's strands and vehicle both suddenly wrapped in a coating of pure white ice, the temperature around Frost dropping hard and fast enough to frost over teller windows and make peoples' breath mist in the air. When a frozen door snapped off and struck the earth, shattering like glass, Frost whirled on the others. "Animated objects have a master! We must find him; and stop crazy things as your cartoons do say." 

[Azuth65]

Silver Spider's arms shot forward to unleash twin streams of synthetic webbing into the undercarriage of the station wagon, just in time for her to notice the cloud of fog come sliding back out of the bank and reform into the man in the parka.  She was about to warn him about how tenuous the hold her webbing had at gumming up the large steel pieces of car when she saw him all but freeze the vehicle in a block of solid ice.  As he moved back towards the door, she felt his aura of cold raising goose bumps under her armored costume.  "Nice work," she said as he passed.  Inwardly she sighed, How do I keep ending up involved in 'magical problems'?

 

"First thing's first, getting the civilians out then looking for the animator," the young scientist said, eyeing the pair of hopping parking meters as she backed into the bank behind Frost.

[Elegy]

GM

 

The efforts of the heroes cleared them a little breathing room, but more animated objects were already on the way. The ceiling fans, which had been hovering behind the battle line, rushed to fill in the gaps. One flew down toward Comrade Frost, aiming its fast-moving wooden arms at his face, while two of them flew over the heroes' heads to harass Silver Spider the minute she came through the door. The two rugs Amelyth hadn't shredded rose up, twisting like snakes, while one of the waiting area chairs scuttled over and tried to hit her from behind.

 

Another rug wormed its way under Foreshadow's feet, trying to yank away and leave him sprawled slapstick-style on his back, but his acrobatic prowess was easily a match for the clumsy scheme. The standing lamp in front of him, however, took advantage of the distraction, its metal support bending fluidly to allow the top to swing at him like a flail. It broke its lightbulb over his shoulder, scattering fragments of glass, and came around for another pass. Another of them came at Gloaming, but he managed to avoid it.

 

The heroes at the door were having other problems. As Silver Spider entered the bank, the parking meters in hot pursuit and the fans coming at her face, the terrible screeching of tortured metal filled the area. The very doors were ripping themselves free of their heavy hinges, their glass shattering as their frames tried to wrap themselves around Gloaming and Silver Spider! The parking meters, taking advantage of the newly-cleared line of fire, opened up on Comrade Frost with a barrage of quarters that would leave heavy welts on an ordinary man.

 

Meanwhile, the black bags collecting money from the ATMs were almost at capacity, save for the one that Gloaming had knocked over. That one, however, had righted itself, and the money that had fallen out of it was scooting along the floor like a mass of cartoon inchworms in an effort to get back in. The computer monitors on the front desk were warping, their wires and circuit boards pushing through their bottoms to become crude (and very sharp and pointy) legs, allowing them to scuttle like huge-headed spiders toward the battle.

 

From the vault, at the very back of the bank, came the sound of more tortured metal. And in the distance, sirens could be heard...

[Elegy]

"The civilians," Seth nodded in response to Silver Spider's words, mentally kicking himself for not having his priorities straight. "Of course, I will see to them and rejoin the fight when I can." Conjuring one of his portals, he vanished in a flash of light, reappearing near a sharply-dressed older man with thinning grey hair who was slumped in one of the waiting area's chairs. He laid a hand on the man's shoulder and opened another portal, appearing beside a red-headed, freckled woman in her early forties who'd ended up in much the same position and laying a hand on her as well.

 

With the two of them ready, Seth strained to open a third portal and launch himself through, moving faster than he'd yet tried. Manipulating his magic, and moving his body, so quickly over such a short period of time was exhausting, and it was only by force of will that he stilled the shaking of his hands. Gasping, his eyes misting with concentration, he gestured once more, and then the three of them vanished from the bank. They reappeared some miles away, stumbling forward into the white-walled, dark-carpeted emergency room waiting area for the local hospital.

 

Given his severely limited knowledge of how the modern world worked, Seth counted himself lucky he even knew about the place. But he'd passed several hospitals during his searches over the past three days, enough for the general idea of the big EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT lettering to get through his head. Ignorant he might be, but stupid he was not. He took one moment to offer a nod and a tense smile to the staring receptionist, then prepared to teleport back to the bank, leaving his human cargo slumped in the waiting area's chairs.

[Brown Dynamite]

Foreshadow braced himself just before the lamp collided against his shoulder.  A sharp sting of pain radiating through his arm for the moment.  Pieces of glass flowing down the sprinkler water hitting against his cape as the shattered bulb made their way harmlessly forth.  If not for a brief roll of his shoulder the damage could have been far more serious than the slight fleeting sensation he felt.  There was no amount of ice in the world to make the painful parts of the job any easier on his body.  Speaking of ice, Foreshadow couldn't help but wonder what cartoon the older seemingly Russian hero was alluding to while referencing the animator's distance.

 

The costumed investigator's equipment was designed for dealing with flesh and blood that much was certain.  Unfortunately this live re-enactment of a poorly planned children't cartoon seemed to be lacking in that department.  Putting away his Escrima Sticks, Foreshadow would reach for his stun rod deciding to take a less blunt approach.  His body become more drenched from the emergency sprinkler as he watched the first group of civilians get transported out of the bank.  "I'll bet the taxi service helps cover getting civilians out.  Not for nothing, but I'm a bit worried about what's going in on the real money is.  ATMs only hold so much.  After we get those on this side of the bullet proof glass out I suggest we get some eyes on the vault." Surging forward Foreshadow would roll underneath the path of the lamp and use the momentum to leap into the air flipping gracefully so as to land near one of the hostages.

 

It was an elderly African American man whose uniform alluded to the fact that he was the security guard for the bank.  Judging by his name tag Foreshadow could gather the man's name was Ed, but his lack of consciousness let the information flow end there.  Ed appeared to be in his mid forties with a slightly receding hair line.  Physically he appeared to be a man who engaged in regular exercise.  His left hand had a fresh tan line from where a wedding ring was once adorned, and the palm itself had some slight lacerations from when the roll of coins burst forth.  Crouching down Erick would move to support Ed's weight so that the guard could be dragged out of the bank.

[Elegy]

GM

 

For all their inanimate furor, the bank furnishings never stood a chance against five heroes.

 

Within a few minutes of their entry the Hannover Credit Union was full of shredded rugs, scattered papers, and metal shavings. The last of the civilians in the front room had been moved to safety, some teleported to the hospital and some helped just outside, where they were sitting on the sidewalk as cheerful paramedics checked them over. The bags of ATM cash, which had finished filling while the heroes fought, had tried to make a roll for it just as the police pulled up, but with the heroes standing near the mangled doors they hadn't made it far. Several patrolmen were watching them closely.

 

Yet the memory of the grinding sound from inside the vault reminded the heroes that the crisis might not yet be over. Sure enough, the vault door hung loose on its hinges, mangled and barely shut. Behind it was a scene of carnage to rival that of the front room: overturned safety-deposit boxes littered the floor, their contents scattered around them, while a cloud of hundred dollar bills drifted aimlessly on the wind produced by the room's heavy cooling fans. Every single one of the several hundred boxes had been opened and ransacked... and in record time.

 

In the center of the room, the one calm point amidst the chaos, sat a wheeled metal cart used for moving heavy things in and out of the vault. It'd been piled high, but not with bags of cash. It instead contained a huge mound of coins: pennies, quarters, gold and silver dollars. A few curiosities had been piled in as well: several old war medals, a silverware set, a copper picture frame, and other such things that must have come out of the safety deposit boxes. Of the bank employee who had been hit in the head by one of the boxes there was no sign.

 

Yet peals of high-pitched, tittering laughter occasionally broke out from the corners of the room...

[Avenger Assembled]

Frost walked into the room with a signal to the other heroes to wait outside, his misty body forming up again into the parka-clad Russian hero. "If you are in here, you should come out," he said out loud as he began to pace the perimeter of the room, the air in the room beginning to get colder and colder, until the breath of the warm-blooded heroes outside began to steam up in billowing clouds. "I can freeze so cold that your feet will slip on ice and your lungs will fill with frost...if you have any lungs, that is," he said with a red-eyed wink. "Otherwise I shall simply freeze and freeze until you are all ice and snow and blow away on the wind..." He wasn't sure if his strategy would work; he'd fought a great number of entities that were depressingly immune to his powers. If this one was, well, he was tough, hard to embarrass, and old to boot, and would come through just fine. 

[Brown Dynamite]

Foreshadow did as requested and stayed outside of the vault.  Russian though he may be, he had no intention of pursuing winter early this time of the year.  Especially when it carried the added risk of frostbite.  It certainly was one way to clear out the room.  Although the costumed acrobat had to admit he wasn't sure what they were clearing the room from at this point.  It wasn't any more clear since they began who was controlling the furniture for this convoluted robbery.  But they certainly knew how to carry out a job with a unique style.  Here's hoping there's someone in there and it's not just some sort of creepy mystical dead end.  Or that we don't run into a redux of a carpenter's worst nightmare with more things going haywire.  Once was enough thank you very much.

[Azuth65]

Silver Spider moved to the front of the bank as well, pulling some splinters of the fan she had destroyed and some chair padding that had flown up and stuck to her costume when one of the other heroes beat the stuffing out of it, literally, when she had tried to help one of the civilians out the door. Moving to lean against the teller's counter she heard the scraping of glass coming from her boot and sighed, I'm going to be pulling shrapnel from this costume for days.

She stood next to Foreshadow as she pulled the shard from her boot's heel, "Certainly a new spin on a cliched heist." Dusting her hand on her pants she held it out, "Silver Spider, I don't believe we've met."