2013.08.02 - What Comes Next

It's getting towards the end of the day, and what a day it has been. Ups and downs of all sorts for the dark haired, skinny Jewish girl that happens to be a mutant and happens to be named Katherine Pryde, or just Kitty to everyone but perhaps her mom and dad. The sun is just starting to set over the horizon, as the seven o'clock hour will soon be upon it. The days are getting shorter, and soon summer will turn into fall, and Kitty will be swarmed with all manner of classes, and young eager mutants to teach. She has about one month yet, one month of freedom, of an opportunity to get out and enjoy her summer, before the school year settles in. 
It is this reason that Kitty's currently seated in front of an older lady who's telling her about different cruises that are running for the month of August. There's the Carnival Cruise Lines. There's the Princess Cruise Lines. There's the ones to Alaska, or Bermuda, or the Bahamas. There's ones to all places Kitty could imagine, and some that she wouldn't dream of going back to. 
The table in front of Kitty is swarmed with different brochures and sticky notes about pricing, dates, and air fares. (Which are astronomical given Kitty would like to do it /now/ instead of waiting when prices might drop.) It's a bit over whelming, as Kitty listens to the woman drone on and on about a cruise that /she/ took just a few weeks ago. (Why is it all travel agents have just taken a cruise or taken a trip to the very same spot that you want to go 'just a few weeks ago'?) As the woman drones on and on, Kitty's gaze flickers once again across the street, her eyes alighting and watching the bank there. One of the ones her father use to work for. One of the ones that he would launder money for the Yakuza for. Did he do so in this bank? Was this one of the ones as well? As Kitty's thoughts rummage about her father, and she's only half listening to the woman speak about the joys of going on the cruise that would cost the most money - Kitty's trained eyes begin to pick up something that isn't quite /right/ about the bank. 
The car situated in front of the bank is black, no license. It hasn't moved for a good deal of time. No one got out. No one is getting in. A van pulled up, slowed down, then went around the corner of the bank. The windows of the van were blackened, its license was also muddy and unreadable. 
In the bank itself, suddenly and without warning, a large group of masked men bolt through the side doors, their weapons are raised as a single shot goes out, slicing right through one of the security guards, as words ring out. "EVERYONE ON THE GROUND!"
Meanwhile, in the bank itself, another individual is having his own trials and tribulations dealing with an employee of the establishment - which, in this case, is actually both the 'establishment', as well as the bank itself. One Marcus Peet, recent college graduate and would-be soul and blues singer, is currently seated at one of the desks towards the back of the main lobby of the bank, doing his best to plead his case to the rather dour and unimpressed man on the opposite side of the desk from him. The two aren't just sitting on two different sides of the small cubicle, though - they're on completely different sides of issue that they're talking about.
Marcus has tried to dress to impress, but sadly his funds just don't allow for the sort of dapper wardrobe selections that the bank across from him is representing. Instead, the black man's attire is a eclectic and not the best-fitting. A light brown suitcoat one size too big is draped over his frame, and a clashing tie in blue and green plaid has been tied haphazardly about his neck. He's wearing jeans and tennis shoes as well, though is fairly well spoken as he's trying to get the loan officer across from him to understand his plight. "But I need the loan to /earn/ the money. The loan's for the sound system. When I get the sound system, I can get the gigs and pay back the loan. I've got..." Marcus fumbles with some of the papers he's brought, rifling through them before thrusting a couple across the desk. "I've got some testimonials here, they'll show I'm able to--" But the banker is unmoved.
"I'm sorry," the middle-aged white man states, not sounding apologetic at all. He pushes his horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking a bit snootily over at the urban young man across from him. "But the risk factors are just too great. Your work history can't support the sort of loan you're asking for. Perhaps if you were able to offer up some sort of collateral? You mentioned you had an electric guitar..."
Marcus sighs at that, rolling his eyes before he catches himself, perhaps realizing that such a gesture isn't the best one to present to the man who may make or break his financial future. "I can't give you the guitar, I need the guitar to play the gigs! Man, don't you--" But any further words are completely lost, as at that moment, the doors nearby burst open to reveal the group of masked men, the gun-shot piercing the air and one of the security guards dropping to the ground. Everyone in the bank starts screaming, all chaos is breaking loose, and Marcus is caught right in the middle of it. His eyes go wide as everything seems to move in slow motion, his jaw dropping at the realization of what's going down. Didn't he walk all the way across town to find a nice, upscale bank where this sort of thing might not happen? But it is. And there's little else that Marcus can do but kindly take the suggestion of the man with the gun. He drops to the ground before they have to ask a second time.
In the bank there is pandemonium. Chaos. Confusion. And lots of frightened people that are dropping to the ground, crying out in fear, terror, and horror at the realization that this bank is being targeted for a robbery. The gunmen are experienced and quick, disarming the other security guards, and forcing all of the checkers from behind the barriers around to where the other patrons are located. "Lock the GOD DAMN DOORS." A nervous looking security guard begins to fumble with the keys as he hurriedly locks the doors, while the masked gunmen twists the signs from 'open' to 'closed'. The shades are swiftly drawn, the lights are turned off, and more and more employees are shuffled together with patrons towards the far wall.
The loan officer lets out a shriek that could qualify for a little girl, and drops to the ground, only to be roughly pulled back upwards by a smaller, and yet - some how - even more deadlier looking figure in black. The loan officer lets out another shriek of noise, as he yanks his arm outwards, grabbing hold of Marcus while he's being tugged upwards. A good three of those smaller, quick action men in black dart into the room that Marcus and the loan officer occupy, as they begin to speak in a language that is difficult to tell if you don't know. Oriental, perhaps? While they shove the loan officer towards the back rooms of the bank, more discussion is given about Marcus, before one of the gunmen gestures with his gun towards Marcus. "You too. Come with." As the others disappear towards the offices of the bank. 
Outside at the travel agency... Narrowing her eyes upon the bank, Kitty's pretty sure something is up, she's just not sure -what- until a flash of light can be seen coming from inside the windows, and then everything is turned dark as the shades are drawn, and the doors are locked. The lights are turned out, and Kitty has a really sinking sensation that isn't because it's nearly seven.
Interrupting the woman just as she was explaining about meeting a nice young man on her cruise, Kitty bolts out of her chair and shoves the woman's phone towards her. "Call 911 tell them that there is a bank robbery in progress at the bank across the street. Give them the street name, and number. Tell them they have guns and have fired at least one shot. Then get everyone in the building away from the windows, and into a secure location." The woman looks beyond startled, starts to protest, then does immediately as Kitty states, while Kitty..?
In as swift of a motion as she can, Kitty's darting down /through/ the floor, and making her way across the bright, well lit street in a swim below the pavement. Only as she makes it to the darkened alley behind the bank does Kitty rise back upwards, her hazel eyes taking note of the get-away van. Two men are swiftly taken care of with quick, clean, and ever so accurate take-downs, while the van's distributor cap is removed with a phased hand, as well as a few wires just to make certain. Getaway van down. Next stop, the bank itself.
Sad to state, but this isn't the first armed robbery that Marcus has been in. While he was fortunate enough to avoid being a direct part of the gang culture when he was growing up, he witnessed plenty of it, including more than a couple hold-ups at convenience stores and mini-marts, and those sorts of experiences tend to stick with you. So, he's not as flummoxed or as frightened as the rest of the bank patrons (not the least of which is the knock-kneed loan officer next to him), and Marcus prepares himself to just lay on the ground and be still and quiet until everything blows over. He doesn't even try to get a look at the guys, so doesn't know quite how professional they are - most of Marcus's experience has demonstrated to him that people who barge in with guns really don't want to kill anyone, and if you just get out of their way, you'll come through all right. Don't be a hero, he tells himself.
Unfortunately, fate has different plans for him. Just as Marcus is resigning himself to the fact that this entire scenario probably means that he won't get the loan, and that he may actually have to get a *real* job to supplement his income while he's trying to eke out a solo career for himself, he feels a desperate and not-at-all-welcome grasping at the back of his suit-coat. "Wha--?!" Marcus blurts out, realizing it's the nebbish loan officer that's dragging Marcus into the middle of things. "Hey, get offa me, I'm---" But it's too late. Suddenly, the robbers are jibbering and jabbering amongst themselves, and then pointing their guns at him, too. Marcus shoots a deathly glare at the loan officer, muttering under his breath. "Seriously? You weren't even gonna give me the loan, and now you got me dragged into this shit?" Grumble grumble, stew.
There's little more time for dissent, though, as he and the officer herded back towards the rear offices and hallways of the bank - likely towards the vault. At least, that's what Marcus figures. He's never been this far behind the teller line before, so, he can only guess. Though he does get a better look at the rest of the robbers at this point, and he's able to tell that these guys are no amateurs. In fact, they're working like a frighteningly well-oiled machine. And from what Marcus knows? With an operation like this, if you've been singled out and have any chance of remembering something about them, of identifying them later? Then once they're finished with you, you're eliminated as a risk. Which means that both he and the loan officer are now living on borrowed time. "You know," he starts to chatter idly then, figuring he's got nothing to lose at this point, "Just 'cause I'm a brother don't mean I've got the know-how to break into a bank vault. You, ah, you only really need Uncle Moneypenny here, don't you?"
 
Outside in the main entryway of the bank, the three young men are making quick work of the teller's cash, collecting just enough from the lot to not trigger any further troubles. Like dyes and silent alarms. The officer that has been shot lies still and quiet, though he is still breathing, even if barely. The bank robbers are doing their fair best to take cash from the employees and patrons as well, cash, rings, diamonds, watches, cell phones, wallets and purses. Everything they can get are all stuffed into black bags, as the one at the front watches for the cops. "Hurry it up man. Hurry it up." Can be heard from one of the punks watching the windows. It's as the sound of a siren echoing through the building that has the three men out front starting to get very worried. "What'll we do...?" "Hold still, you knew they'd come, just keep out of gun shot." "I don't like this.. we should be gone by now." "Shut up, shut up. Keep the hostages between you and the window."
With that, one of the men begin to draw towards the hostages, only to find himself suddenly yanked down and through the ground. There's a loud yelp and then silence. A long. Horrific silence for the other two gunmen. "Where the hell did he go? What the hell happened." The young men begin to pace to and fro, only to have one suddenly let out a frightfully horrified sound and then crash towards the ground, the other spins around just in time to receive a swift jab to his neck, unable to breath he gasps for air, his gun dropping from his hands, before he goes down as well, knocked into oblivion by motions that are as practiced as they are experienced. 
The doors to the outside are swiftly unlocked as Kitty gestures towards the hostages. "Go go go, help the security guard and get out of here." Even as she does so, one of the employees gestures towards the back officers. "The..there are ..mm..mmore in there." Before she's darting out the door, helping the shot security guard to his feet, as they all begin to rush out into the streets."
Inside the back offices, the three men shove the loan officer into one of the chairs - ignoring everything that Marcus has to say, in fact the gun is still aimed at Marcus' back, as they instruct the loan officer. "Password." Is all that is spoken. "Now." The door to the office is shut tight, the blinds closed.
The loan officer's hands shake uncontrollably as he begins to type in the password on the computer. . . . 
As he and the loan officer are marched towards the back rooms, Marcus continues to grumble and mutter under his breath, tossing the occasional glance of doom and disbelief at the banker, alternately expressing his displeasure at the man and trying to tell their captors that Marcus really isn't the guy that they want. But they don't seem to care, and rather than make himself more of a nuisance than they want to deal with, the black man finally pipes down as he feels the gun wedge itself a little deeper into the back. "Okay, okay, I get the picture," he tells them, sighing quietly at the way this day is turning out to be. His eyes dart to and fro as they file into the back office, trying to size up a likely exit - any likely exit - but there's just no clear escape, at least not while he's being held at gun-point. Marcus is no hero. Sure, he can stand up for himself, but in a situation like this? It's not like he's Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan or any of that. He's just... Well, he's just Marcus. The last time he was in a fight, he ended up with a black eye, a split-lip, and he was grounded for three weeks. And he was fifteen.
So, he's still trying to figure out how he's going to ride all this out, if there's any hope of actually living *through* this, when he hears the faint sounds of odd yelps coming from the front foyer. He keeps still as his eyes dart about, but no-one else in the room seems to notice anything. Don't they hear? Maybe they don't! Is it the police? Are the bank tellers and other patrons staging an uprising? Did the other robbers have an argument over who got how much dough? No, the last bit only happens in the movies... But even so, something's going down, and Marcus is hopeful that means that it'll make its way to the back offices, too. At least before... And that's the directive is offered for the loan officer to log into the bank's computer system.
Marcus knows what's going to happen after the password is entered. It's blatantly apparent to him - as soon as these guys get what they want out of the guy, Uncle Moneypenny is a dead man. And probably Marcus too. "Whoah, wait," he suddenly blurts out to the banker. "Ain't you seen this movie, man? You give these guys what they want, and they're gonna shoot you. They ain't gonna need you anymore, and you're gonna be a liability. We both are. You type in that password, you might as well be pulling the trigger yourself." Marcus's voice sounds out with desperate, clear conviction as he tries to warn the banker, hoping the guy will listen to reason, will have the backbone to stand up to these thugs, at least for a few moments...
 
The banker's nervous fingers pause at Marcus' words, his eyes lifting upwards - they're glazed over. He's long gone. His hand was about ready to hit the 'enter' key, and at Marcus' words, he still isn't sure whether to do it, or not. That's when one of the smaller men grabs the banker up by his collar and tosses him against the side of the wall. The poor man goes down without more than a *thud* of noise, a large bump already forming over his head, though he is, at the very least, still breathing. That'll be fixed later it would seem. 
Sitting down, one of the men plugs a small device into the computer's thumb drive, the device begins to whirl into action, as the man's eyes scan the information, his fingers expertly working over the keyboard. 
As for Marcus, the one with the gun to his back jabs the gun a bit deeper, as his voice comes out low and quiet. "For a Gaijin, you pretty smart, know what comes next." The gun is raised up towards Marcus' head, and yet, another soft rustling of sound echoes a second later, and the man lets out a slight gasp of sound as he's suddenly pulled -out- and -away- from Marcus. The gun is there, against Marcus' temples one moment, the next the man is yanked /through/ the wall it would seem. Marcus' would be murderer doesn't even get more than a gasped out sound before he's taken down, there's a *thud* of noise echoing from the corridor. 
And from the pandemonium from the outside begins to echo on the inside, as the other two men spin about from looking at the computer to gaze at the door. A flurry of sound, voice speaking in a tongue that is foreign, before the figure that pulled the one out appears in the doorway.
She's - well, kind of small, skinny. Her hair is a wild tangle of insanely curly locks that bound about her shoulders. Her eyes are blazing hazel, as she appears half through the door, half not, phased as it where between the two. "Don't know what you're doing, but frankly, I don't care. You both can either give up nice like, or we can do it the hard way. And I hope you want the hard way." Her voice is lilting, she's enjoying herself - she hasn't had good bad-guys to beat up on in some time. Her gaze flickers towards Marcus, pauses as they alight there, then returns to the two men, "So step away from the computer with your hands up."
Though he wasn't really expecting the banker to have much good sense, Marcus was still hoping, just a little, that his warning might have some sort of effect, might at least make the guy stop before entering in the whole password. But that's not the case. The man's fingers continue almost as if on muscle memory, and he only pauses before actually hitting the 'enter' key - as if that's really going to stop these guys from doing that themselves. Well, Marcus tried. At least he can say that he tried. He starts to take in a deep breath, and the low tones of the individual behind him remove any doubt in his mind as to how this is all going to end.
"Yeah, well, lot of good it did me," he starts to answer, before suddenly and inexplicably, the gun that's pressed into him is just gone. Along with the the man holding it. The thing happens so fast that at first, Marcus isn't even certain what's happened, but as hears the gasp and thud from the other side of the wall behind him, he starts to turn around a bit, completely and utterly befuddled. The guy just... disappeared? Marcus blinks a few times, trying to figure it out. "Or, uh, maybe I don't know what comes next..." he begins, before his attention is grabbed again, this time along with the other two bank robbers in the room as a rather lithe and dynamic individual appears in the doorway and issues her ultimatum.
Marcus turns and stares more than just a bit as the ghost of a girl pokes herself through the door, passing right through the object as easy as she pleases. She's spunky, she's cute, she's not afraid of these guys and isn't about to take any nonsense from them. In fact, she looks to be... having fun? But then, why shouldn't she be, Marcus thinks - the girl can walk through walls? Who wouldn't enjoy the heck out of that, while taking guys like this down a peg or three? Hell, bullets would pass right through her! Marcus pretty quickly figures out that not only is she the one to thank for the disappearance of the dude that had a gun to his back, but she's probably been through the front of the bank and that's the commotion he was hearing earlier. He doesn't miss the quick glance of her hazel eyes over him either, and thinks - is she checking him out? Marcus puffs his chest out just a little - after all, one doesn't really want to make their first impression as a completely helpless hostage, even if that's the case here - and decides to chime in, "I think they're trying to hack into the database - they were downloading something onto that flash drive!" He may wish to say more, but, really, there's not a whole lot of time and he wants to make sure he's as helpful as he can be.
 
The two men move as one, one of them grabbing the small drive out of the computer to smash it into the ground, his foot crunching the device into bits of metal, the other draws into a defensive stance, twin escrima sticks pulled out of the pockets of his baggy pants. As he flips them about, very distinctive tattoos can be seen running across his arms, they're brightly colored but very distinguishable - at least to the girl that is watching with careful consideration. "Okay.." She states then, walking through the door, "We do it the hard way." As soon as Kitty is free of the door, the man charges forward, his body in fluid and swift motion, the twin sticks moving with a speed that only comes from experience and skill.
The sticks pass right through the ghost-girl, sending the man slightly off kilter by that fact, and even more so as her hand suddenly becomes very solid, landing a well aimed crack onto the man's neck. What happens next..well.. is a battle that is both fierce as well as quick, as both of the men then leap into the fold, their hands and legs moving as swiftly as the girl's. With each kick she blocks, or phases, with each whack, she's there, her arms blocking, her body moving. It's a dance of experience. Of expertise. And it's quick to even the most inexperienced eye that she's mostly toying with them.
< Who are you? Who do you work for? > Her words are spoken in the same language as the other two, though they do not respond in kind. 
Finally, as both lie on the ground unconscious and battered, the girl lets out a huff of sound, her fingers plucking up the crushed remains of the disk to give it a quick once over, then, and only then does her gaze once again return towards Marcus. "The police will be here in a moment, and frankly I'm not registered. So I'm going to split. Ah. I.. ah. Are you okay?" Geeze Kitty! He's just been through hell, and you're what.. trying to pick him up!?
If Marcus had half a mind - or the nerves to act on it - he may have actually lunged for the flash drive instead of just jawing about it, but that thought came just a little too late for as soon as Marcus tried to issue a warning about the thing, one of the bad guys has yanked it loose themselves, crushing it on the ground. "Aw, nuts," Marcus utters at the destruction, before lifting his chocolately brown eyes back up to Kitty in apologetic look. Not that she has much opportunity to see it - it appears that these guys aren't just bank robbers. They're like Triad or something! Fortunately, the girl seems more than up to the task of taking them on - both of them - and as Marcus stands there a bit stunned and shocked, she's not only giving better than she gets, she's actually talking to them in their own language, too!
The whole fight lasts just a few moments, and Marcus is a bit slack-jawed at first, still processing going from a B-action crime movie, to a kung fu flick, just in the span of a couple minutes. "Damn, girl, those are some /moves/," he finally gets out then when all is said and done, quite impressed and just a little bit intimidated by the display of martial prowess. But in a good way! As she eyes the broken flash drive, he's about to ask her about the thing, when she turns to warn him about the police - and to ask him if he's okay. "Registered...?" he begins at first, not putting the pieces together right away. After all, Marcus doesn't have any powers (that he knows of!) so, registration of them really isn't on his normal radar. But it doesn't take it long to click. "Oh! Registered! Hey, your secret's safe with me. The cops ask, I'll just tell them some ghost took out these guys." He grins then, pondering a moment before adding. "Heck, maybe I'll say I did it, if you, you know, weren't supposed to be here." Marcus pauses just a beat before he continues, his expression turning considerably more serious. "But I'm glad you were, by the way. Here, I mean," he clarifies. "I mean, I'm okay, but I wouldn't have been if... You know. You..." he stops, collecting his thoughts and his words before he starts again, mentally recriminating himself for tripping over his own tongue. "You were really awesome right now, I just wanted you to know that. My name's Marcus, by the way. Marcus Peet. Do you ah... Do you bank here?" He almost visibly winces after asking that question, his inner voice pretty much scolding himself furiously. Do you bank here? Really? What kind of line is *that*?
 
Now Kitty could take Marcus' stuttering as shock, but she really doesn't have much time to think about -anything- other than, she really needs to get out of here. Her first answer though is a quick grin, and shake of her insanely curly chestnut hair, that bounds over her shoulders by the motion, only to be tossed back over her ear with a deft move. "No. I.." The sound of the police barging into the bank can now be heard, and if Kitty doesn't get out -now-, it'll be more than her picture shown on the camera. And frankly. She doesn't want to have to have Doug to bail her out with his SHIELD clearance. "It was nice to meet you, Marcus. I hope this doesn't put you off of banking here, it's a nice bank." And then she's gone, darting through the wall, disappearing from view.. only to have her face appear a second later, "Oh and.. I'm .. I'm Kitty." And then she's gone again, disappearing like the ghost she is. Wishing she could give more than her name, but for now, it's all he'll get. Good thing she got -his- name. Now the question will be painstakingly thought about as Kitty digests what happened and will of course, moan to Rachel about whether or not she should call up all the Marcus Peet's in the phone directory... Ah.. youth.
Category:Log