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The Greatest Show on Earth (IC)

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May 15, 2017 

Austin, TX 


Austin's Lone Star Bank is located near the edge of the city proper, about halfway down 290 towards Dripping Springs. The distance means that it usually caters to patrons who live in western suburbs and bedroom communities and don't want to drive all the way into Austin to do their banking business. Of course, that also means it's prone to robberies. The bank has security and security cameras - but sometimes all that does is pick up what's happening. 


"All right, yew varmints, we warned you!" The lead outlaw, like her confederates, looked like a character from a movie - her black bandanna, cowboy gear and hat, and twirling six-shooters, belonged to the crime of an entirely different era - as did the half-a-dozen horses she and her gang had tied up outside before bursting into the bank with mayhem in mind. The guards were disarmed now and scattered among the bound and gagged patrons, her confederates were either guarding the door with their pistols or applying the dynamite to the door, everything was going well. 


Even the one guy in the middle of the floor, blood pouring from the six shots blasted in his shirt, was all part of the plan. Stupid bank manager had tried to play hero. Gotta make sure the people know who's really in charge. 


"C'mon, boys, hurry it up!" she called. 

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Roland was driving in Austin, going to one of his old stomping grounds. "I wonder if the old game store is still open. Be nice to see if I can get back into a little board gaming." He kept the radio on news so that when he is needed, he would know.


It was then he heard about the bank robbery of the Lone Star Bank. "So a Bank robbery? At that old place though, couldn't stand the decor, but mom liked it, and those hostages need help. Best give these ruffians a thorough rustling." As he said that, he flipped a switch in his car, getting his computer out and ready so he can head to the location.


He looked for a secluded area and switched both him and his car into his Hero gear, prepping his gigantic tower shield, several blunt javelins and his trusty hammer. He then typed "Lone Star Bank" into his navigation system and starts heading off to the bank.

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Hyperactive had been in the Warrior Cave, watching water drip from the ceiling for the most part. He'd already sent some preliminary sketches for his special project on over to his friends at Archetech. So there was little to do. It was quiet, too quiet.


When the alert of a bank robbery in Austin popped up he was quick to respond. A chance to stretch his legs! He burst from the building at top speed. In a few minutes he was at the bank and saw... Horses? That simply wouldn't do. In a flash he unbound the horses and stood right in the middle. Then he began to spin. Faster and faster and faster, until the air swirled like a tornado all around him. The howling noise should spook them and his position should hopefully scatter them.


"This town ain't big enough for the two of us!" Hyperactive hollered. "Alright y'all have three options. Surrender, fight, or run." 


"I'll give you a head start." He called, flipping a coin again and again. Come out, let's play where I don't have to worry about the civilians. 

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"Yew'll have to come out and get us, Yankees!" called one of the outlaws by the door, giving a rebel yell and firing his pistol in the air before slamming the door shut and throwing some sort of internal lock. The outlaws, it seemed, didn't want to come out for anybody. The horses, at least, were much more willing to go along with Hyperactive's demands - the moment he was loud enough and fast enough, the horses spooked, bolting from the parking lot and fleeing for their safety towards the flat stretch of scrub brush on the opposite side of the bank. There were advantages to being built on the edge of the city like this. Looking more closely revealed that those horses really did just seem to be mundane horses of a sort that had probably been purchased from one of the region's farms - even the gathering county sheriff's forces probably would have had no trouble with these guys. 

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Hyperactive walked up to the front. Which was still faster than most people would ever go in their lives. Now of course this wasn't a job that necessarily needed a super hero to do. But, and this was important. The next bit was very very very critically integrally important.




There hadn't been really anything else to do. So he was going to do some good work and stretch out his legs. He searched the whole building's outside quickly but carefully. Then he took a look at the door. He cracked his fingers and pulled out his small set of lock breaking tools. He rolled out his neck. Time to get to work.

Edited by Kolohehonu
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As Roland pulled into the parking lot of the bank, he looked for alternative entrances. "Going in the front maybe a bad idea. Don't know much about the robbers, but could hazard a guess from the horses over there that they may be cowboy stereotypes." 


He parks as close as he can to the front, gets out, and notices someone at the front entrance. Looks like another hero. Wouldn't hurt to make his acquaintance"Hey, want help with this merry band of thieves and miscreants?" He shouts at the man at the door.

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Hyperactive glanced over his shoulder. The man in costume approaching was a familiar sight. 


"You're the Weekend Man right?" Hyperactive smiled. "I'm Hyperactive, you know Waco Warriors? Believe me everyone who's even remotely a Texas hero I keep tabs on hoping they join the Warriors." Anything to make them seem less like a college club and more of a legitimate team of Super Heroes. Not that everyone on the team was happy with that. "I tried to contact you a while back. Don't think anything ever got to you."


"Anyways. I think they have blasting charges on the vault door. At least I hope that's what that noise was. Anyway. Bombs. Somewhere. Definitely guns and civilians. I can phase straight through the door, but I'm gonna make a scene. Last thing I want is people getting shot." Hyperactive stopped. Glanced at Weekend Man to make sure he was following. "Any and all help is appreciated." 

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"Hyperactive? Nice to meet you. Seems you know me, makes things easier. I can offer a bulwark," tapping his tower shield, "blunt javelins, and a hammer as well as tactical advice." 


As he approached, he was formulating a plan in his head. Approaching head on would be a mistake, and the hostages needed my help as soon as possible.


"Think there are alternative entrances? The front is going to be most guarded, and they likely put the hostages pretty far from the front door."

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"Well let's see!" Hyperactive replied. He started off with a few quick laps of the building. The world seemed frozen. He zipped about it at hypersonic speed. Making note of any big bold doors. Then he looked for any other ways in, and made note of the security system. He could probably break in fairly easily, and well not like it would be the first time today.


Finally Hyperactive looked out for anything that resembled a way out. These banditos could have all the headstart in the world. If hyperactive knew where they were going they wouldn't get away.


Hyperactive stopped at the back door. For him it was a few minutes, in reality it was a few thousandths of a second. He looked it over and pulled it wide open. In a blur of motion he grabbed Weekend Man and had him at the back door before the other hero could blink.


"Back door!" He declared as he let the other hero get his bearings. "I can scout it out invisibly gimme a sec."

Edited by Kolohehonu
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"Alright, you do that. Hostages are a top priority." Speedster. Considering what one can do with either enough speed and OH GOD I THINK I'M GONNA HURL! "I think I may need a moment or two before I go in." He said, clutching his stomach. He was not used to the sheer speed and may regret having eaten a little wile ago. 


"That was a wild ride, but this back door is a boon most certainly."

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Hyperactive's quick search of the building revealed some anomalies - there really was no obvious way for the 'outlaws' to escape now that their horses had been dispersed (not that the horses would have done them any good either) but they didn't seem terribly concerned by that. Three of them kept their eyes on the glass window at the front of the building and the front door, crouching low to avoid any SWAT snipers, and the other two (including the surly leader) were in the back by the vault door, where one fellow with an eyepatch and heavy stubble visible above his bandanna appeared to be placing an almost cartoonishly-large bundle of bright red dynamite in place against the bank vault door. 


A close look revealed that the outlaws weren't entirely in tune with their 19th-century melodramatic style - all of them were wearing discreet earpieces like aging movie actors or politicians, the sort that would let them stay in radio contact with somebody - though not necessarily each other. The outlaws seemed to be having a grand old time inside the bank, waving their revolvers around carelessly and pointing them at the hostages, the walls, spinning them on their fingers like characters from an Old West film. The hostages, crying, screaming, afraid, didn't look nearly so happy, nor did the bank manager, bleeding out on the floor, look happy. 

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Hyperactive made a quick decision. Hero triage as Condor or mom or anyone else would have called it. If anyone was looking at the man bleeding on the floor they would have seen him, and then quite suddenly they wouldn't. For good reason. Hyperactive had taken him. 


In a blur of motion he got the man to a hospital and left a note: Urgent, multiple GSWs.


"Ok so I got the only visibly injured person out." Hyperactive said quickly. "I'm not sure if anyone noticed. Did you hear any gunshots?"

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Putting a finger to his mask, he tries to subtly motion towards the man with the walkie-talkie. "I think they know we are here. Look at the man over there. Notice the walkie-talkie? We are at a cross roads, as taking him out might force the robbers to panic and do something rash, and going in may give them leverage, endangering the hostages." He whispers.

"They may be portents to something much larger than a simple bank robbery, which all things considered, is not unusual. At least it's not clowns with military grade gear." That last part was in jest, but it made him think. Why would someone look like a french man when they lead a bunch of western bandits? And more importantly, what in the blazes is going on?

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Hyperactive smelled his hand and then, likely to the horror of Weekend Man, licked it. Cornstarch. He spat on the ground. 


"Be right back." Hyperactive said locking his face shield in place. He was off to the hospital. Faster than usual. In a split second he was over the bank manager. His hand reached down and he grabbed him. In a split second he charged at the wall. He dragged him outside and let go. As the man fell, Hyperactive looped around the earth. As he edged in on the speed of light, the world blueshifting around him, he grabbed the man. 


The two should have broken physics. And to some extent they did. Hyperactive felt the heat and saw the red lightning ripping across the sky. He let the man go and he fell to the black sand. 


"Welcome to the Shadow Zone!" Hyperactive screamed over the howling winds. "I'll be back! Why don't you think about what you've done and we can talk with all your friends."

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"This is awesome!" yelled the manager, looking around with wide, half-frightened eyes. The look on his face reminded Hyperactive a little bit of a child not quite old enough for the haunted house he'd been taken to - excited but frightened at the same time. Suddenly looking abashed, he clapped his hands over his mouth and looked around wildly. "I've, uh, never seen anything like this-Oh crap, are we still live? Sorry if I ruined the take," he added, "you guys are great! This is my first time doing this." 




The man Weekend Man had pointed out didn't seem to see them - he was focused on 'shouting' into a large hand-held radio, gesturing animatedly with his free hand. Inside the bank, the outlaw leader was issuing a proclamation of her own, her voice echoing by means of an old-fashioned megaphone, and coming through the bank's public address system at the same time. "All right, yew varmints! You've got ten minutes to clear a path for us, or we'll blow this bank vault all to hell and take our chances!" That seemed unlikely to Weekend Man, with his technical knowledge, - even that much old-fashioned dynamite wouldn't take down a modern bank vault door - but it would certainly hurt the people in the bank. 



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As he hears the megaphone, he realizes that waiting for Hyperactive may not be the best call right now, and rushes in to the bank, planning on planting himself between the hostages and the robbers. He's not as fast as his ally, but he will make sure that everyone gets out alive.

When he does find the hostages, he immediately places himself between them and the robbers and shouts "Stop right there, knaves! I am here to stop this bank robbery at once! Lay down your arms at once and surrender peacefully!" Ok, that may be both lame and cheesy, but I'm here to get the hostages OUT NOW, and I will make sure that that task is completed to my utmost ability.

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"I think you've been played. I am pretty sure these people think this is a real robbery. This might actually be a real robbery." He sighed feeling the heat and watched another burst of lightning zip across the sky. "I mean assuming you're an actual bank manager. I'm going to take you back and you're going to sit quietly in a bush or something. Before I get back to you." 


"Well you seem fairly harmless." Hyperactive sighed. He grabbed the man and again went into a total sprint. He arrived in Hong Kong. He sighed and in a near sprint he darted back to Austin. He'd be there in under a second, which hopefully would be only a few moments after he had left. 

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Realizing that he may actually have to fight, he draws one of his geometric javelins from his quiver and readies his shield. He may want to take the first blow, but he would rather wait and see what they would do. And he knows moving from his position is going to be a bad idea. The hostages need him now more than ever.


"So I guess we are gonna dance rather than make peace? Fine, BREAK YOURSELVES ON MY SHIELD!"

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As Hyperactive arrived he saw Weekend Man dash into the bank. Hyperactive dumped the bank manager into a shrub. The man landed in a thud and with an oof. 


"Stay put, we'll talk after this is all sorted out." Hyperactive sighed before zipping in and running along the ceiling over Weekend Man. Then, while he was right over the bos he pushed off and landed. He took two quick roundhouse kicks and then backed way out of reach. 


"Alright I'm here, what's the game? You managed to grab the eye of the Waco Warriors! So come on then we can talk or fight!" Hyperactive said and then flipped one of his coins sky high. Time for battle.

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After the rather fast display from his speedster ally, he sees the rising of the gun pointed at him from the outlaw leader. He then throws  a javelin at her, hitting her in square the chest.


"I said surrender now. You are not going to blow open the vault with those explosives. Just going to hurt everyone in here." He says, hoping the can somewhat realize the gravity of the situation.

Edited by Mafia Whale
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"Yee-haw!" The outlaw leader aimed her revolver at the Weekend Man and got blasted across the room for her pains, hitting the wall and collapsing with bone-crunching force. Her gang gave a whoop of delight and opened fire on the Weekend Man as the crowd screamed in panic, pop-pops as small explosions erupted along the wall behind the hydrokinetic. The outlaws didn't seem put off by their leader being taken down - if anything (though it was hard to judge expressions with the bandannas) they seemed delighted. 


"Let's roust 'em, boys!" 

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Hyper took in the entire situation. The hostages were fine. Weekend Man had grabbed up all the attention these thugs had taking down the head bad guy. So he could take on the rest of these guys. 


Which left the charges on the vault. That would hurt all these people if they went off. Well then that might be a good thing to deal with. 


"Weekend! I'm going to go disable those bombs or if not go drop them in the gulf!" Hyperactive shouted before dashing over to the vault door and taking in the sight. If there was one thing Hyperactive was good at it was breaking things. If he couldn't figure out how to snuff these out he would simply grab them all up and go drop them in the gulf. 

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"Alright!" He shouted, knowing that if the boss goes down fast, than the rest of them will go down even faster.


He stars his rampage by hitting the first in the face with a javelin, then charging the second and knocking him out with his shield. The others met face first his hammer, him ducking and weaving with his shield before he incapacitated them all. After the fight, he built a set of glasslike cuffs out of water for each of the criminals, for their hands.

Edited by Mafia Whale
Edited to be an actual IC post.
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When the fight was all done and the bomb defused, the heroes were left with a very peculiar mystery - one that the police left them to solve while they took witness statements and started cleaning up the crime scene.


"Wait, this was real!?" said one of the now disarmed and unmasked thugs, disbelief and horror on his now-visible face. His compatriots seemed equally stunned by the news. "This isn't...but he told us this was only a movie!" The outlaw in question, whose ID said his name was Franklin Colt and that he lived in Houston, told the heroes he was an aspiring actor. "I answered an ad in the paper for a role in an action movie, did a few auditions, met the team here, and then they sent us out here...they were supposed to be filming us with drones." 


The bank manager who Hyperactive had rescued looked truly mortified, pulling up his shirt to show where the squibs and bloodpacks had been hidden. "Oh...oh my god, the Director said he'd cleared it with Corporate and that everything was okay. I thought everyone else was in on it too..." From the stunned looks on the faces of the other patrons and staff, it was clear they hadn't been. "I can't believe I let myself get talked into this!" Sitting down on the dirt outside, he looked pale and flushed at the same time in that look that bespeaks imminent collapse. "Oh my god, I'm going to be fired! And go to jail! What's my family gonna think?" 

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"News paper ad? Oddest way to recruit someone to a bank heist, but I digress, who was the man who hired you? Do you at least know his name?" asked Roland inquisitively. 


"Beyond the question of employers, how would you have known that all of this was possibly staged?"

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