After a lengthy discussion with the Front bouncer on why he should be let in he finally managed to squeeze into the diamond Inn. This place was much fancier than it looked outside and ten times more than normal establishments he goes to. Jamie walked his way over to the bar, ready to order his usual six pack of energy drinks when he was approached by a lady. A seven foot tall, green, mean looking lady but one nonetheless. She kept her intentions short, she saw his driving and offered him a job as a possible getaway driver for a halted cut, whatever that is.
"Oh yeah that sounds rad, I was actually a professional driver for a bit." Jamie said as he leaned against the bar. A getaway driver, that sounded rad as hell, and get paid for it. That's gotta be like a thousand dollars for something like that, a pretty big score for him. "Names Jamie Jackson or Action Jackson if you've seen my stunts on the internet. I'm guessing you are a super too? That or an alien, either way dope as hell." Jamie said as he got up. "Say, do you know who's bike I borrowed? I've got a couple idea on how to make it better"
The bartender turned down the offer of tagging along, but she definitely had some criminal flair to her. Perhaps she didn’t want to admit it in present company. Mari could understand discretion, after all. She placed an order for another drink for Spork, sliding two cards across the bar. One was a credit card to start a tab for the drinks and a business card for Nine Tails Inc., along with contact information. All secure, of course. She didn’t make mistakes.
Ashley wanted to do this now, which meant that she didn’t have time to plan this as thoroughly as she would like. Okay, fine, that can work. She just needed Spork and they could work through this. An exercise in improvisation. She was about to answer when she heard a familiar voice pipe up, an arm slung itself around her shoulders, and a Transformers backpack was dumped into her lap as if it didn’t contain sensitive and deadly technology.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]“No Hello Kitty bag after all, restraint.”
Mari said, raising an eyebrow. She opened the bag, ruffling through it slightly to take stock of the inventory. Not that she didn’t trust Spork, but she preferred to ensure everything was taken care of herself.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]“This is Spork, my partner. They’re good at what they do.”
Some bonehead entered with all the subtlety of an elephant on methamphetamine, and it took everything Mari had to not roll her eyes as he was included in the plans. As if she needed any more variables to worry about, she had to deal with someone who had two brain cells fighting for third place. The plan was simplistic, but decent enough. Mari gave a glance at Rick, who looked like he could snap a laptop in his bare hands. She tapped her fingers on Spork’s thigh casually, 3 taps, a pause, 2 more; a message that she’d used dozens of times over their life.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]“Spork and I are good to go. We’ve got what gear we need. They’re best in the bruiser category. Don’t let looks fool you, they hit like a truck.”
Mari couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that. She’d helped with it, after all. “I’m techy, but can hold my own.”
Mari reached into the bag and felt the familiar grip of her pistol. She left it in there, for now, and pointedly looked at Rick.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]“Are you able to keep up?”
‘From the stars’ earns an impressed eyebrow raise. Ashley’s handshake is ignored entirely, though ‘ignored’ may be too strong a word for it. It doesn’t register as a threat, and so Miku doesn’t beep at them and they continue to stand where they are, half slumped over onto Mari.
“An extraterrestrial queen,” they insist, pandering just a little more. They take the compliment with a shark’s grin, tapping their sunglasses higher on their nose with a gloved hand and straightening up (ha) a little bit.
In response to Mari’s gestured question, Spork taps thrice at her shoulder, silent agreement to the plan. They’re quiet while listening to the proceedings, projecting what they hope is self-assured confidence.
Still, their hand slides across her shoulder, the tips of their pointer and middle fingers lingering on the side of her neck and tapping the pulse point there. Another message; stay alive.
They blithely lean against her, pointy elbow propped on her shoulder and their chin pillowed on their hand. If she wanted personal space she shouldn’t have befriended them.
“Where’s my drink?” They ask quietly, knocking their wrist gently against Mari’s temple. Then, to the group, “Sounds simple enough. Where’s the meetup afterwards gonna be? You know, to get everyone’s share into the right hands.”
And a prime opportunity for any double-crossing. Honor among thieves is a nice story, but also one that doesn’t always hold up to scrutiny. If everyone seated at the bar is taking part then the cut’ll be hell to divide. But hey, they can’t just leave their partner in crime in the lurch. They know where their priorities are, if things start to go south.
"I mean maybe one day. Lot one can buy, but no I didn't rule in space." Well not that she remembered. She supposed a previous self might have ruled but those memories were alien and adrift to her. An avatar of Gravitius usually was it's own person but then died or was assimilated back into the true being of power. It was almost funny in a way. She could recall some time among the stars, and even now hear the slumbering thoughts of an alien mass drifting towards earth. Yet all Ashley actually had known was here on earth. She existed to eat worlds but this was also the only home she'd really known.
Then again it wasn't like growing up on Earth was luxurious. Why not claim it for herself before letting it be consumed by Ashlogortinmok-Elosivisumnx-Gravitius. A ruler who would aid the downtrodden labeled criminals, before gr a vital wells ripped a world asunder? Of course that was ambitions for the future. When looking into a mirror behind the bar she didn't see a jade empress, just a hungry green lady and a decent band of thieves. Who she would gladly help see to their own ambitions if they wanted, or murder if they tried to back stab her.
"They'll pull up outfront. One will take off south other north. We meet back at Jerry's Bar and Grill." It was a rather seedy rundown bar on the outskirts of town. Ashley rather liked it, they took care of a lot of the stray cats. Both in a littoral and metaphorical sense. Was a lot of scruffy looking felines outside, but also a good amount of thugs, drug addicts, runaways they got help over there. Jerry was a good guy, well she thought so. He also shot her though when first they met because a one eyed green lady with a bag of stolen goods had been a cause for alarm.
Ashley took out a wad of cash she had and set it down. It would cover for their drinks, it didn't help the guy she'd used powers on whatsoever. The money also didn't help cover the fact her and the bikers each reached over the bar to just take a bottle for themselves. Which did have some protest. It wasn't like this bar was full of gun toting crooks but it did have bouncers and staff. To which Ashley gave a reminder. Looking to the biggest, well second biggest person in the room. A gesture of her finger and he was floating, a drop of the hand and he was hanging from one of the lights so as to not fall on the dance floor in a broken heap.
Jane and Bob started to head towards the car dealership. They hardly looked a couple or like they could afford the rides that place had. It wasn't exactly a promising duo. This was also though a to well off side of town. It wasn't like the guys selling Lamborghinis thought they needed the shotgun toting staff of a shady chop shop.
---The Techbeard Wizardry--- Rick would move for a alley way confident Mariko would follow. "So you and blindy a thing? And what's this talk of packing a punch? Is she some sort of other senses using ninja? Saw a Kung fu movie with something like that. Blind swordsman who eventually went up against this dope drunken master character. Man the beard on that guy had little me envious. He also was that cool old where it was more a whispy tail instead of th a t Santa shit."
The journey wasn't far and the alley was vacant. Well the left over wrappers and gross empty sleeping bag by a dumpster said it was now. The off putting smells of alley only put off by the smell of well taken care of hair. "Coconut conditioner. Someone just took the trash out. Was a lady. I'll get the lock if you'll handle her." Rick was a biker who had done time he was hardly saintly or a gentleman. He however was not the sort to hit a woman. In fact his first stint in juvey had been for stabbing his dad when he struck his mother.
Large hands stained with black from mechanic work took hold of the door lock. A knife was fished from his boot and he began picking away at it. This wasn't exactly the quiet masterclass work but it had a good forcefulness behind it. One could tell Rick had broken into many lockers in high-school and just many cars in general. He was not delicate but he got results.
The door opens. And down the hall in a office with an open door the two could spot the coconut woman. Mid thirties, built like a twig. The lady was dressed nice. Not nice enough to go to the bar across the street however. Hard to get a full layout of the office from here but a degree hung up on the wall. "She's got a degree worth a lifetime of dept. Go easy on her Mar. Fucked up enough the store will owe her but not enough to make her life suck more." Maybe the biker needed a lesson again in what the word easy meant.
---Team Green---
A adrenaline junkie, blind woman and giant walk into a jewelry store.
Perhaps the other two dawned masks. How theatric they chose to be was up to them. End of the day Asheley could only control herself. She entered the store like anyone would, but all eyes briefly did still fall on her. Because a tanktop and jeans were not the clothing choice of anyone else here. Be they shopping or working the people here had money or were supposed to look like they did. Also none of them were so tall they had to kneel to enter, or were well green.
"If I can have your attention. This is a heist. We live in a society or whatever, of entitled fat vultures. That's you." There was a stunning trophy wife who was swift to glare at Ashley in disgust. "And I think it time you give back to the actual birds of prey. The top of the food chain belongs to those who take not the corporate shills. Uh or however you identify. I don't actually care that much."
The one guard in the lobby went for a taser. He rocketed into the ceiling hitting with a heavy thud. When he fell it left a small splatter of red on the tile. It sparked a scream. "Oh relax, he should be fine. Concussion and broken nose no big. Well his nose was big, not so much now. Now then let's talk payment."
There was a guard by the door likely close to the car thief. The adrenaline junkie might have a person worth beating up, provided the tazer didn't get pulled and put to use. There wasn't an immediate threat on the side of the blind. However the elevated senses might notice the bit of clatter coming from their left. There was a employee on the floor now heading for a desk. Provided said man made it to his desk he'd be going for a silent alarm.
Reconnaissance wasn't done. But Arnold Bitlicky was the staff member closest to the door, a jumpy sort who had the most access to one of the four emergency alarms. There was another two in this lobby but by less skittish sort. The other was in the security room of course. Said room was up the stairs and above the office that Rick and Mariko were looking at.
Mari had heard of Jerry’s, it was a place some of her clients had insisted on meeting her. It was a nasty little place, and she’d made a note not to go there without Spork again. But if that was the meetup spot, so be it. She also wasn’t thrilled about what seemed to be a physical cut. Most of her payments were digital, faceless dollars from faceless names. Physical currency needed to be dealt with carefully so as not to raise suspicion, which meant hoarding, which meant a bunch of cash floating around the apartment. And God forbid if her cut was actual jewels. Fencing that stuff was incredibly difficult, it would be weeks if not months before she saw any return.
She was pulled out of her financial ruminations by familiar fingers pressing her neck before bumping her temple. She pressed a drink into Spork’s hand, squeezing their fingers just a little bit in affirmation. It was go-time. She grabbed the bag and slung it over her shoulder, changing quickly before heading out to work.
They made an odd duo, the bearded muscle-bound giant dressed in leathers, a smaller figure behind him clad in dark clothes and a fox mask. Kitsune rolled her eyes as Rick rambled about her comment on Spork’s abilities. Professionalism was clearly lost on these bikers, but she still had an image to uphold. His deduction skills surprised her a little, but even a broken clock was right twice a day. She didn’t acknowledge his plan, just pulled out one of her knives as the door swung open.
Kitsune didn’t like to kill people who weren’t targets. Not out of some noble ideal, but because it was extra work. It meant more bodies, which meant a higher sentence if caught, which meant more people looking. Made her work more difficult. Now she was being asked to take out a woman in her own office by the guy who was supposed to be the muscle. She crept along the hallway, weighing her options, trying to ignore the empty feeling behind her. She was used to being separated from Shiba during missions, but she usually knew they were close by.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]Focus. You can worry about Spork later. Puzzle mode.
It wasn’t visible due to the mask, but Mari’s face took on a peculiar expression. Spork said that it always did that when she was thinking something through or trying to solve it. They called it ‘Puzzle Mode’. Unfortunately, the name stuck. But she did what she did best: analyzed problems. The woman was in an office and hadn’t noticed them yet. It was only a matter of time. She couldn’t get there fast enough to threaten. She didn’t have the equipment to try and clip her temple with a shot. That left only one option. Kitsune hefted her knife, flipping it around so she clutched the blade instead. She stopped around halfway down the hallway, as far as she thought she could get without being seen. She dropped to a knee for a stable platform, drew her arm back, let out a whistle to get the woman’s attention, and sent the knife sailing, end over end, looking to smack her between the eyes with the handle.
Once the knife left her grasp, Kitsune rushed forward, moving as quickly and quietly as possible, reaching and drawing her other knife as she burst into the office, quickly scanning for more potential witnesses before turning attention to the hopefully unconscious woman.
"Copy that. We'll check it out." A click and a burst of static, and then the receiver was placed back in its spot in the vehicle, ready for whatever came next. The officer who'd put it there moved her hands through a quick self-check, making sure all her equipment was where it needed to be: Kevlar vest, standard 9mm, tazer, baton, cuffs. In an ideal world, she wouldn't need any of that, but in an ideal world, there wouldn't be any need for police in the first place.
"What's going on, Stel?" David Artur was her partner, just shy of 40, self-conscious about the way both his hair and his ex-wife had left him. His hand ran over the smooth dome of his head, a habit that just drew attention to the lack of hair, but one he couldn't seem to break. He noticed it, like he always did, and changed the motion, pretending he was just going through the standard checks like Stella was.
"Not sure yet. Reports of semihuman activity down at a jewelry store." Stella was a comfortable 33, and had gotten out of the habit of claiming she was 29 about 2 years ago. She didn't really care about her age all that much, it was more that she'd noticed the insistence on being '29' had detracted some attention from her name, which was, in all it's glory, Constellation Aurora Mayfield. She'd been raised in California by idiots, and firmly thought there should be a law against naming your children stupid things. It was true that she could have changed her name when she turned 18, but she rather liked the indignant rage. It was something to be angry about, when she felt like being angry about something stupid and small rather than any of the really bad stuff out there.
A low whistle proceeded the comment. "They sure about that? Someone throwing fireballs or something?" The Pittsburgh police department was on a bit of a high alert since the other week when rumors had it someone had downed a plane right out of the sky. David didn't know what they were expected to do against fireballs or falling airplanes, but if nothing else they could cordon off the area and hope someone else stepped in to handle it. He hadn't made it to nearly forty by rushing into things, and he didn't intend to start. Cautious was the play of the day.
"Not yet, but someone said there was a 10 foot tall green space alien." Stella didn't sound convinced, which was fair enough. Eyewitness accounts were notoriously garbage, after all. If there was a 10 foot tall green space alien, she'd be very surprised - but that didn't mean something else freakish wasn't going on. If there were semihumans out there, it probably meant something was happening. Stella very much doubted any of them really had altruism at heart. At best, they were self-serving. At worst, they were self-serving and violent. It had to be someone's job to stop them, and that was what the police were for - to protect the people.
The lights went on above them as David pulled the car out into the street, heading for the jewelry store - no doubt, by the time they got there, the scene of the crime. The only question was what that crime would be.
Spork curls their fingers around the drink, taking a moment to swirl it around before knocking it back. Sugar, alcohol, a stray ice cube to crunch between their teeth. Ten out of ten. They set the glass back on the counter and listen in amusement as Miku notes everyone else standing up and- huh, that’s weird.
U-07, ten feet elevation, 5-o’clock. They turn slightly towards the commotion as someone starts shouting from decidedly-not-the-ground. Alien lady’s work, or one of her group? Either way, impressive. Whoever it was didn’t even have to touch the guy to get him up there.
In the interim, while everyone gets their things together, they wander after Mari. It’s quick work to change out their casual jacket for the specially-modified one that she insists they wear and discard their gloves to reveal the polished metal gauntlets encircling their fingers and winding up their wrists.
Even with the mask snug around their face, Spork doesn’t bother trying to think of themself as anything other than what they are. They’ll respond to Shiba, and call Mari Kitsune if they have to, but they have no illusions surrounding who they are and what they’re doing.
Which is; fun, and fun! They rejoin their assigned group, feeling a little like a kid getting randomly paired up for a school project. If the project involved a few crimes and the promise of violence. So, a totally cool, not lame project that has very little to do with school.
Spork enters the jewelry store a step behind Ashley, their hands resting casually in their jacket pockets. Miku rattles off the important details into their ear, and they listen more intently to that than anything the Big Green Alien Queen spouts.
Their head jerks up and to the side as movement is noted, taking precedence over the rest of the description. 9-o’clock. U-05, moving to 10.
Perfect! Spork grins as they rush forward to tackle the stranger. They don’t really care what the rando is doing, only entertaining a passing thought that it was pretty dumb to try to sneak around while a robbery is happening right in front of them.
They slam into the employee and send them both to the floor, pressing their forearm against his windpipe and digging their knee into the fleshy bit just above his hip when they have a better idea of the man’s proportions.
The robbery was off, and quiet was out the door. It felt as if Jamie only had a moment to adorn his helmet as everything kicked off. Of course the others did they're job, the Green lady walked in and made her announcement and spork tackled a guy. That was to be expected. Jamie went to find a guard to subdue so he could Be helpful to the group but before he had a chance to find trouble, it found him instead. A sizable man, on standard rent-a-cop gear took one step towards Jamie. Jamie's thought was about being fair, this guy probably didn't even get paid enough for this job. The guards first reaction was to shoot Jamie, in the leg, with a taser. A good aim really not to shoot this exposed chest armor or helmet, of course Jamie didn't care about the guards aiming but more on the pain. But with the pain came a bonus, a jolt, an energy, his heart was pounding.
Jamie managed to use the shock and electricity of being shot with a taser to pump up his adrenaline, his strength increased, his body toughened up and his IQ probably dropped a couple points to ignore the pain for good measure. Jamie jumped toward the guard and delivered a solid right hook into the guard's face, a bit so hard it knocked the guard off of his feet and threw him into the window, bouncing his head off of it in the process. The poor guard immediately dropped to the floor unconscious and with a bloody nose. Jamie pulled the prongs out of his thigh and flexed his arms like he just smashed a massive deadlift at the gym. "FUCK YEAH LETS GO! WHO'S FUCKIN NEXT!?!" he yelled in excitement. His heart was pounding, his head was empty, it was go time.
Ashley had the power to do what she wanted, her gang of bikers had done enough shady things to not hesitate doing more. When they left the bar people would reach for phones. The one down side was everyone wanting to be a hero meant more traffic to the phone lines. For all the noise that might cause though for the police the news would be easy to convey to officers. A heist at a jewelry store was underway, descriptions would be given. Granted the bikers were easier to explain the looks of then the others, it'd be easier for a cop to identify them then the other three. Most explanations given to officers though gravitated to the obvious. Turned out green haired green skinned eight foot tall women kind of bec a e the focus when describing the group of would be thieves.
By the time the heist was under way the authorities would know the heist was also involving robbing a car dealership. It forced officers on the way to decide if they should split up. Perhaps it would help the thieves perhaps not. For now they had time still, or at least thought they did. Wasn't like they knew how close Stel and David were.
---The Techbeard Wizardry---
Mariko had done remarkably well at dropping the employee. Fast and efficient like he figured they needed to be. He knew much as he liked this gang he rolled with it wasn't like they would get out of here without conflict. Sooner they finished up and joined up with the rest the better. "Apreciate it. Rather not strike a woman. Also just glad that knife wasn't used how would have thought." Seeing a blade come out half made him expect a body count to kick up. That wasn't how he liked to do things of course the jobs got violent and it wouldn't have been the first body he saw. Typically though there was a line to this work. One could get away with crimes, once bodies piled up though it started to become a challenge to slip through the cracks.
He takes point going up the stairs he doesn't withdraw a weapon at the time. To much attention if he did the man figured its quiet for the hallway to the stairs and half way up them. Then there was a gentleman who bubbled into the duo. He started with the "You shouldn't be here" routine. A fist to the throat stopped that. A second strike to the side of the head put him under. Knocked unconscious Rick moved the employee off to the side of the stairway. Obviously he wasn't a nice person but the biker was obviously trying to bot be needlessly cruel.
The approach up the stairs leads to a series of offices, they were empty however at the time. Was later in the day those manager types didn't want to stick around. Back in the security room however the door was open, a clear view for the biker and fox. Two guards one a man skinny thing barely fit for the job. If one had to guess got in more thanks to knowing the right people then decorated career. Beside him a woman heavier build and stern expression. Someone who probably did the work for the job but the effort in being fit for the job slipped by when there was no instance demanding being some top level fighter. It was a store it had a staff of people. Inside the security room was a man in a suit clearly stashing something away in a safe. "I've the men and safe if you've got the lady and tech."
He didn't wait much for an answer. He wasn't going to force someone to do a job they didn't desire to do. He was no tech guru though and didn't want to hit a woman though so of course he hoped for compliance. He stayed low and quiet as he tried to get close. However a large muscular figure was not a master of Stealth. It was clear he likely served in the army and had some training in trying to be, soon enough though a broad shoulder was caught in a reflection.
His guard of choice fumbled for a baton. A shoulder check knocks him into a wall. The next motion was quick a stomp on the arm to break the limb. The pain was enough to make him decide he didn't want to fight anymore. As again the ordinary worker didn't want to try shaking off injuries like they were in some action movie. Rick picks up the baton shoves into the room and swiftly strikes the suit in the head. Soon the duo would have a whimpering bloody nosed suit to deal with. He didn't have more to offer but not unconscious of course he begged complained and panicked. He wouldn't go for an alarm though so Rick let him be. He'd further beat the man down if needed but it was clear he didn't want to just blindly be violent.
The suitcase was a good way to store things from the safe. The rest of the room was some dated computers and cameras. Wouldn't be hard to remove things like recordings of the day. Or help unlock some of the cases in the floor below. Most could scan a worker ID to open the various cases but there was a more universal access here in the security room. Harder to obtain should the technology inclined desire was info on other banks and stores. As well as the staff of this building. They didn't grant a easy in for other heists but would allow better information for ones if so desired.
---Team Green---
Spork was quick to take action. With force the man thinking of going for the alarm was floored and the next motions made him struggle to do much of anything. It turned out having the wind knocked out of oneself and then an elbow making catching breath difficult robbed him of any further action. Another employee close by was quick to raise her arms not looking to fall victim to the same levels of violence.
The guard was ragdolled shattered a window and got a yelling outburst. Ashley was a display of power and suggestion to just play along. Spork had been quick and efficient, was violent but not looking necessarily for more. Jamie wanted more violence he made it known. A staff member closest to Spork was ready to do as said. Two customers close by took to trying to hide under one of the jewelry stands. They were at Spork's mercy as compliant or susceptible to her violence as the crook wanted.
The staff member close to Jamie rushed to trigger the alarm. Two civilians looked to rush past him to escape the building. They saw a mad man and so escape and hitting alarms rushed to the forefront of their minds. Other then one other civilian. A man who really only had a gym membership and some time watching MMA as any combat experience. He wasn't fit to be a hero or fighter, his girlfriend was one of those running civilians though. He had been looking for a ring. So now that customer in seeing someone like Jamie took action against the car thief.
Ashley wasn't to pleased with that outcome. She wasn't going to stop those civilians or employee for him though. If she did all the work for a team there was no demand for one. If one proved to not be suitable for a team she would boot them but until then, was Jamie's side of the store sonit was his mess. Similarly to Spork of course, Ashley wasn't as concerned there though. For the alien herself she moved towards the large fist sized jewel.
"Miss I can't open that without security help." He did put his badge toward the case. He did his part to open it, but it required the staff to also open the case. Most the merchandise either key or security room could open. The oversized gem however demanded both, Ash simply looked to the camera expecting that issue to be covered.
"Best hope my new friend helps you. Really dont want your head bouncing off glass to." Ashley hoped for the efficiency of Spork and Mariko here. However she didn't hesitate to use the Jamie method though. Just seeing the jewel made her remarkably hungry. Similarly being an alien her compassion for humans had some limits. The ones she knew were great and she tried to look after. As she had shown however she wasn't going to hesitate to use violence. How smoothly this job went largely depended on the others in her group. Well them and maybe the officers closest by.
There was no mistaking the arrival of the police. There wasn't meant to be. Sometimes the sirens and flashing lights were enough to send criminals packing, to give them a chance to run off before the police actually got there. Sure, there were those who would say that the police were supposed to apprehend those criminals, but really it was safer for everyone if they just went away - especially for the police.
Besides, it was good to have a moment to secure the scene and take care of casualties before chasing down the perp - or sending someone else after them. David was of the impression that chasing down criminals was what rookies were for, and that wasn't him any more. Running after people was easier in your twenties, after all.
As much as he'd have hoped everything cleared out by the time they arrived, the police cruiser was just pulling up in front of the jewelry store in time to see the shatter pattern on the front window as someone was thrown into it from within the store. He parked the car - Stella was already hopping out, but she was like that. It would have been nice if there were someone else to stop all this, but that wasn't the way it worked.
Superheroes, huh? Never around when you needed them. Stella was taking the left of the door so he took the right, then kicked it in with gun aimed and an unmistakably loud:
"This is the police! Stop what you're doing and put your hands in the air!"
At least he could still yell with the best of them.
There’s a crash and a shout from the other side of the room - whatever-his-name-is, making his move. His energy is contagious, and Spork grins, letting out a cackling laugh of their own. The voice filters kick in, rendering the sound higher and more menacing when it reaches their ears. The employee they have pinned still isn’t fighting back, so they clock him in the temple with the side of their hand and get back to their feet. There’s no point if it isn’t a good fight. U-05, down.
A tap of their thumb to the side of their pointer finger switches them to the two-way channel with Mari, and they lower their voice enough that hopefully only the mic picks up on it. “Kitty-ne, you better have those cameras. This is gonna be real-”
They don’t get the chance to finish their warning before they hear sirens blaring outside, making them swear under their breath. “-obvious. Already?”
Getting caught is only fun when they know they can wiggle their way out of any real punishment. Like in school, where any scraps could be blamed on the other party because why would Spork start a fight? They were just the poor blind kid, surely it wasn’t their fault if they just happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Spork doubts that’ll fly here, but they only hear one car. They can take a few police officers, probably. They can try.
But first, two low beeps in their ear and they turn to meet the staff member rushing them from the left. Instinct has them raising their arm in a block, barely catching her right hook. They step inside her guard like a sigh, like a dance, a half turn and a hard shove of their elbow into her ribs. She knees them in the gut as Spork sends her reeling back against one of the displays. They’ve had worse.
The glass doesn’t shatter, which is a real shame. Regardless, there are screams from close by, and they turn to ‘look’ in the direction of the civilians, listening to them scramble away. Chasing them down wouldn’t be worth their time, but they still enjoy the fear.
It’s about then that the front doors to the shop slam open. Even more chaos. The police making their grand entrance. Spork slips their baton out of its holster on their thigh, activating the electric current along it and whacking their dance partner while she’s distracted. “Well, that was fun.”
U-06, down. P-07, P-08, 10-o’clock. 20 feet. They dive behind the case while they wait for the charge to build up again. Mari would give them hell if they managed to get shot the one time they got separated.
For those in the store it quickly became a choice of drop belongings or open up cases, and stay in place or make a run for it. Her team quickly made a good number reconsider running though. Jamie may have been quick to violence but Spork had also proven mighty confident in such behavior to. Ashley smiled at the results then went for a series of bags she tossed towards the groups. The gift bags had enough heft they could actually travel some. Or well most did, an observant eye may have noticed some that started to fall to soon then floated anyway. "Just bag everything for us then you can go."
Ashley liked a bold statement sure but a body count wasn't going to help them get out of here. She did want them to load up the bags though, because bagging took time and trying to collect all the plunder herself could prove exerting. She didn't think it something to use up her reserves necessarily but was best not to chance it either. Before they could get to deep into loading rewards for thieves though cops busted in.
"Stay put." Ash remarked to the woman waiting to open the case to the fist sized jewel. Spork had moved for cover which Ash was fine with. The humans were more prone to taking bullets badly. Ashley well bullets were bruising she wasn't exactly a bullet proof power house. That said a black eye from a gunshot was better then spilt brains. There was also the fact that well cover helped attention be on her. Her allies might get a better move in because of her gravitas.
An eight foot tall green woman who was gesturing staff to hurry, why wouldn't guns be trained on her? Who was worried about masked thugs when alien thugs were before them? "I'm sorry officer I don't identify with the term hands. I consider them tentacles disguised as fists. But you didn't ask put your tentacles up. Also I'm not of this world why do I need to follow your legal system?" Her hand tapped impatiently on a shelf hoping for the security systems to be lifted. She very much was stalling right now.
"You know you could join us. Paycheck is better, the thrills higher. How often have you seen crime be more lucrative then what you get up to? Why arrest for the society, when society is arresting you?" Ashley really didn't care about societies or social norms, she found it fun to pick at though. Everyone was so used to for obvious reasons earthly customs, which by simply being here Ashley challenged.
David was shouting at people again. He seemed to enjoy it. Stella usually let him do the shouting parts. It worked out well for them. She wasn't much of a shouter. People never listened anyway. That was fine, because the point of shouting wasn't to get people to do something, it was so they'd be looking in another direction when she started shooting them.
The green lady - actually green, not ten feet tall but a good eight, alien status apparently verified - seemed to be the talkative type. Stella didn't think she really had anything to say - not that anyone hadn't said before. The standard attempts at legalese or bribery. Stella didn't take bribes on the clock, and legalese was for the lawyers to sort out. In this case, it was better for the lawyers to sort out posthumously. Did aliens have rights?
Not right now they didn't. She pulled the trigger - one, two, three. Two to the head, one to the chest. She'd had to adjust her aim up quite a lot from the standard, but usually she was a pretty decent shot. There was no knowing of this crazy lady could shrug off bullets, though - that was the trouble with semihumans. None of them made any sense.
With a little luck, there'd be at least one less in the world by the end of the day - one way or another.
Kitsune simply gave the man a nod as he complimented her takedown. Internally she breathed a sigh of relief. The throw itself had been based on skill, but the success had been a coin toss at best. She retrieved her knife, keeping it close as Rick led the way up the stairs. Before she could react to the unexpected arrival, the biker had already delivered two swift strikes and was dragging the unconscious man off to the side. Kitsune winced, not in sympathy, but at the brutality of the strikes. Shiba’s were significantly better placed, more knife than hammer.
Kitsune continued slinking behind, her footsteps muffled by the boots of the larger man. She tutted inside her mask, noticing the open door to the security room. Technology could be ironclad and as secure as people could want, but the human element was always the loose screw. She took note of the two guards inside and made the guess that she’d be expected to take out the female one. Rick confirmed her suspicions, a man of habit, or at least of morals. A curious thing to keep in this line of work, but nobody was perfect.
Her attention fixated on the woman, Kitsune moved up, her knife clutched in one hand. Hopefully she could sneak up behind her and pull a similar strike to the one she’d done previously, rendering her target unconscious and none the wiser. Unfortunately, it was about that moment that Rick’s primary target spotted him and let out a yelp of alarm.
The woman, to her credit, reacted faster than her colleague. She leapt from her chair, baton drawn. Kitsune stumbled backward, trying to create space as the weapon swung forward, hitting her wrist with a solid crack. She swore as the knife went flying and the baton came for a second strike, hitting Kitsune in the ribs. A hand went fumbling for a side holster, firing as soon as the weapon was clear. A cry of pain was let loose as the projectile sank into the woman’s thigh and she collapsed. Kitsune used the momentary distraction to follow up, slamming the butt of her gun against the woman’s temple, sending her into unconsciousness. Kitsune let out a breath, a hand going to her side. Definitely bruised, but nothing broken. Same with the wrist. She bent to scoop up her knife, looking towards the security room where Rick had finished his job. Tech time.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]God, this tech is outdated.
She hadn’t expected top of the line computers, but at least something that seemed like it was made within the past decade or so. Everything was still logged in, and her fingers flew across the keyboard as she familiarized herself with the layout. Nothing fancy, simple text documents containing instructions for the day-to-day shifts. Kitsune was pulled from her electronic reverie by a familiar voice in her ear.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]“Working on it Shiba. Had some issues to resolve. Already?”
Kitsune responded in a low voice, although her “partner” was probably too busy packing in loot from the safe. She turned her attention to the cameras, seeing what had caused Shiba to cut themselves off. Ashley was looking pointedly at the cameras, while Spork took cover. The front doors slammed open and Ashley turned, seeming to talk to the figures. Police, go figure. If they’d just waited she could have disabled the alarm. Kitsune thought, not for the first time, how much easier this would have been if they were on their own. But enough time wishing, there was evidence to erase.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]“Don’t get shot. Hopefully more cops don’t show up, we’re clear on the tapes.”
Kitsune added in a lower voice, barely above a whisper.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]“If you need to, ditch them.”
Her attention shifted once more, to the task at hand. A prioritized list appeared in her mind, how best to resolve the situation. Step 1: Disable the alarm so hopefully more cars don’t get sent. Easier said than done, there was no “stop all alarms” button. There was, however, a way to disable the ongoing alarm that was password-protected. Luckily, a quick search revealed a sticky note on the desk which contained the password, presumably for everything given the state of security she’d seen thus far. With the alarm currently silenced, she could disable the alarms on the individual cases, ensuring that their ill-gotten gains could be retrieved with slightly more ease. She remembered Ashley’s pointed look, but put that at the back of her mind. Priorities.
Step 2: Clear the tapes. This would normally be something along the lines of “wipe the drive that the surveillance footage is stored on”, but not the case. They were actually using tapes to store the footage from the previous week. Kitsune wondered how this place hadn’t been robbed before. She shut down the cameras, stopped the recording, and snatched the tape, shoving it into her jacket. For blackmail or simply to ensure destruction, she wasn’t sure. It paid to have options.
Step 3: Open the case for Ashley. With a couple button pushes, the red light turned green and the case was unlocked for the massive gem that she apparently wanted to eat. Kitsune looked back to Rick, who at this point had probably filled the suitcase to bursting.
[attr="style","color:rgba(224,99,41,1);display:inline;"]“Police have arrived. What’s the plan?”
Staying low to the ground, one hand on the case beside them, Spork creeps closer to the officers. It takes a lot of concentration to keep their steps quiet; they aren’t built for stealth, much preferring the strategy of “hit your opponent a bunch until they are incapable of noticing anything at all.” They huff a little at Mari’s suggestion - what’s the fun in that? - but hum their agreement regardless, keeping their voice quiet.
Three shots are fired. Spork flinches at the abrupt noise, but none of the bullets were aimed towards them. Miku doesn’t even ping them with a “the gun’s aimed at you now” alert, so they must be in the clear. The cops they send after metas really are a different breed, huh?
They recover quickly and launch out of their hiding spot like a ricochet, vaulting over the display and aiming to crash into the one with the gun. Miku patters in their ear, keeping them updated on their opponents’ positions. They chose an angle where the coppers are in a line, so that the other one would have to shoot his partner to get to them.
Now there’s a plan. They swing their arms out and try to catch the trigger-happy officer from behind in the world’s most dangerous bear hug, hopefully pinning her arms to her sides and using her as a convenient not-so-bulletproof meat shield.