His companion, a far more built and broad shouldered man gave him a thumbs up.
"You bet, I've played how many thugs now? We'll be fine." Frank could see his friend smiling under his mask despite the black cloth being in the way. Expressive was probably the best way to describe Terry.
"We sneak in, you demand the up front money, and we get out. We ain't even going after the vault. This will be what, a couple grand? Easy peasy!"
This message was last updated by the GM at 04:14, Thu 23 Apr 2015.

"A couple grand that I can use to make better stuff and pull better heists in the future."

He turned to the robot, "Taxi-Bot, Transform to vehicle Mode." With a few spins the Robot was back to a Taxi cab, ready to take them out of the warehouse, across town to the bank on Manheim and Clearwater. It was out of the way enough that it would take the Police a bit to get there, and then they'd just blend in with all the taxis on the way out.

The only problem was going to be heroes showing up. The island was always crawling with them. Laguardia had the highest Biodynamic-Per-Capita of any other City in the United States. Hopefully the robot would be good for that, too.

Frank got into the driver's seat of the Taxi, nervously tapping his hands on the wheel.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:24, Wed 22 Apr 2015.

Well a Robot was a much more interesting target then two guys in ski-masks, especially when they dropped their guns and surrendered.
Terry patted his friend's shoulder. "I'll be fine. Quit worrying so much or you are going to attract negative vibes man. The universe can smell fear. Puff up, show the universe who's in charge!"
Pulling out his phone he began to scroll through the local traffic feed. "Mmm, no accidents so things should be a clear drive. That means no supers should be on street level to be peeping at us."
This message was last updated by the GM at 18:55, Wed 22 Apr 2015.

Frank reached over and buckled his seatbelt out of habit and did a final check of everything he had. No wallet or ID, a set of brown Bags for the money that Terry had insisted in Painting Dollar signs on. Black ski mask, Stripey sweater (Terry had insisted on that, too) and a gun that he'd made out of a hair drier, two microwave ovens and a Television remote.

It looked lethal, but wasn't any more dangerous than a taser... Or a cattle prod... Or a toaster in the Tub. It depended on what setting it was on. Terry had a similar one made out of a paintball gun that would glue people to walls and the floor with a sticky foam. If there wasn't a Ban on selling super-tech, Frank could be a legitimate millionaire by now.

Sometimes it felt like the system was forcing Metas to Either Take the stipend and become heroes, or... well... Do what they were about to do.

He shifted the robot-car into gear and made his way out of the abandoned warehouse, feeling like he should say something important or dramatic, but Terry would probably do that. He had a better sense of the dramatic than frank did.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:37, Wed 22 Apr 2015.

And it wasn't like the stipend was a whole lot of money, particularly when split between one registered meta and one unregistered. Terry had a hard time getting work, not because of his dynamism, but because his chosen career was acting.
His stunt work came easily enough but never paid as well as they'd hope nor was it ever as fulfilling as Terry wanted.

His true acting roles were few and far between. Maybe he just didn't have the contacts and connections but Terry had never had any luck making his big break in to the La Guardia acting scene.

True to his ever peaky nature Terry turned on the cars radio, the local top 40 and pop station coming on. He nodded his head to the beat like they were driving to the beach and not to go and rob a bank. "You think any of the tellers will be cute?"
This message was last updated by the GM at 19:22, Wed 22 Apr 2015.

The drive wasn't long, traffic was good, but they were getting more than one odd look driving around in the middle of summer, wearing Ski masks. He calmed himself by continuing the conversation with Terry.

"Well, there's usually always at least one cute Teller. I don't know if we'll be in a position to flirt, though, what with the guns and the robot. Feel free to try and work your magic, though. I'll try not to step on your game what with my polite requests that the money from the Drawers be put into bags."

Frank snapped his fingers, "Oh, speaking of which, watch out for those Dye pack bombs. I'll try to keep them from going off, but some things are too dumb for my power to work on them. Especially if they are wind-up. Clockworks are stubborn buggers."

"Yeah, I can shed any grossed up skin but our poor money can not do the same." Terry nodded at the thought. They'd honestly done a fair bit a research when Terry first proposed they robbed a bank.

How much money did tanks typically have insured? What about lock boxes? Up front Money? Vault? Security? Guards? What supers were common in the area.
A good month had gone into this event between research and robot crafting.
Honestly Terry felt rather proud of themselves for accomplishing so much with so little.

"Oh man, I can feel the bushy tail coming on, I'm getting excited." He bounced in his seat a little as they drew ever closer. Checking the safety on his glue gun he glanced out their windows.
"Hm...we should get the windows tinted for next time."

Frank laughed as he drove, "Yeah,  I'm getting a bit of a bushy tail, too. This could really work, and if it doesn't, then we'll just get out the next time some villain like Sovereign does some mass breakout. We don't have Id's, we don't have to tell them our names, and neither of us has a criminal record."

He elbowed Terry, playfully,  "...That I know of."

They pulled up in front of the bank, a nice middle-class affair, And frank shook his head, "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

He moved to undo his seatbelt and found that it was stuck.

"Now why you go and say a thing like that Frank?" Terry sighed at his friend as he watched his tugged helplessly at his roommate. "Now like, Prodigal is gunny show up and we are gonna have to sit through a lecture about how we are ruining our lives and are gonna feel bad." Tutting he patted Franks head. "I'm gunna go deal with the lobby guards, you get unstuck and come give me back up, k?"

Not waiting for Frank's response Terry slipped from the cab and rushed towards the bank. His get-up had been chosen specifically to unarm people, who'd believe that a guy dressed as one of the most cartoon representations of a robber was really holding up the bank?

There was two guards that worked the bank during these hours, one by the door as a proxy greeter and the other behind the counter to help with large transactions and to carry things into the vault.
When he cleared the revolving door in he simply shot the first guard in the side with his gun, sticky yellow foam expanding as the chemicals made contact with air. IT bubbled and burped and glued the man's arm to his side, the gun he carried fully covered. Another quick click of the trigger and the man's legs were glued together as Terry went sliding along the nice marble floor, shooting the doors behind him to seal them shut to prevent anyone else from getting in or out until the robot showed up.

It was nice just how fast a paintball gun really could shoot.

The tellers all began to speak amongst themselves, while raising their hands slowly. It seemed they couldn't believe Terrys outfit or entrance. Snippets of conversation like '...evaluation today?' and '...this for real?' belied the casual attitude with which people in this city dealt with bank robberies. Especially one that was using such nonlethal force.

Perhaps it was the outfit?

The quiet disbelief was shattered, as the Taxicab drove through the doors under it's own volition, Frank swearing quietly inside. A pair of robot arms with mounted rotating blades, extending from under the hood made quick work of the cement holding them closed. Not even a scratch on the doors. This was going well until Frank was suddenly swearing quietly outside as the car Twisted and unfolded into a fifteen foot tall robot, ejecting him in the process.

It was only luck and an intimate knowledge of the transformation sequence that allowed him to slide out of his seat and land in a three-point pose as he was flung clear. His knee, his foot and his Fist all stung, but man, did it ent up looking way cool. He winced internally and slowly stood while surveying the whole room with his hairdryer blaster. Time to say something dramatic... Ummm....


"I think you all can tell what we're here for. Quickly and efficiently, ladies and gentlemen." He motioned to Terry, making up a nickname on the fly, "Rip, please provide our friends with the bags, and please, let's all have the professional courtesy to not bother with Dye packs. I'll know where they are, and then they will just make a mess in the lobby when I toss them out."

"You got it boss." He shot Frank a thumbs up and approached the counter, glue gun still in one hand as he casually shot the other guard just to be sure. Pulling the stack of paper bags from his belt he placed them up on the counter.
"We're trying to be recycle conscious." He said when the teller gave the bags a weird look.

The bags were divided up along the teller's row and Terry's vision kept glancing to the bowl of blow-pop's beside him. These were proper name brand candy! He hadn't noticed that during his guard checks previously. And it wasn't even just this one bowl, each Teller had a different bowl of candy set out beside them, ranging from peanut butter cups, snickers, to the previously mentioned blow-pops.
Was there some kid even today?

Pursing his lips he began to unfold a bag of his own, taking a large handful of the suckers into his bag he started to casually walk down the line as though he was making sure they were all properly filling the bags. Really he just wanted more candies.

"Soooo, this seems like a nice job. Aside from being robbed by the occasional handsome duo." He said casually to a blond at the far end of the counter as he took a large handful of peanut butter cups into his snack bag. It was a shame he didn't have a marker on him to re-mark this bag separate from the others. Should he use a bank pen?
They weren't filled with evil bank ink that could be traced were they? He hadn't researched into that conspiracy theory.

Frank saw Terry taking candy from all the tellers and could only laugh. It certainly was odd that they had such nice candy on display, but what was more odd, was the way the tellers were acting. No one was trying for a button under the counter, no one was yelling, or crying. In fact, nobody really seemed very upset at all. The blonde was laughing at Terry's jokes for chrissake.

Something was very wrong with how right everything was going.

Frank nearly walked right out of the bank when the manager said, "You want us to open the Vault for you now? The safety deposit box keys are over here, if you need them."

"Oh we arn't going after the safety deposit boxes, that be rude. That stuff is like, important to folks. But this stuff," Terry motioned to the bags of money. "This stuff is like all covered by insurance and stuff. People we are taking this from can afford to lose it." He rolled up the bottom of his mask and began to unwrap a blow-pop as he began loading the money up onto the robots storage compartments.

"And you guys have been so chill about this, I wouldn't want to cause you further trouble. Well, I mean, you two have no choice." He motioned to the two struggling guards. "But that stuff dissolves in a few hours so you'll be fine. Don't like, rip any skin off trying to pull free guys. It ain't worth it."

The bank manager's lower eyelid twitched just a little, "Are you SURE you don't want anything? Not Safety Deposit box 047? That's not what you're here for?"

Frank could tell that this was going to be a problem, he just didn't know how much yet, "Oh, yeah. Hah. That was a goof on our part." Apparently they wanted that particular item stolen and were going to put up with the actual robbery of the bank to have it happen. Frank would have to be an idiot to steal it. To appease the bank manager he'd have to do some sleight of hand.

"Hey, Rip. I'm gonna take a bag and hit box zero-four-seven, make sure that we don't miss the important stuff."

Was it some kind of insurance fraud? This was....weird?
"Uh boss..." He said around the lollypop stick in his mouth. "You sure?" He popped a shot at the manager's feet, gluing the man to the spot. They really hadn't wanted to take anything from the deposit boxes.

He leaned over to stare into the sweating Manager's eyes. "...just what is in box 047 you are trying to get rid of? IT better not be a bomb, I hate dealing with bombs."

"Y... You aren't here for the artifact?" The manager seemed unable to believe it, "If you aren't one of ours, how did... You were so good..."

Confusion was written on his face, "Who are you?"

Frank didn't comment on the nature of asking a masked man who he was and opened the box in question, finding a brass rubik's cube with strange letters all over the tiles. Was that sanskrit? "Oh like hell we're taking this. This looks cursed as shit." Frank knew enough about magic to know that he knew nothing. He closed the box without touching the puzzle and put it back in the slot in the wall.


"C'mon, Rip, Let's get gone before they try to make us look in the Arc of the Covenant or something."

"You were expecting to get robbed?" The manager couldn't see the eyebrow that Terry had arched up, but it was there. "Dude that is just weird. Well the explains why you were all so chill. Well who are we to disappoint? You are expecting a five star robbery and we " Unwrapping another pop he tucked it into the man's mouth. "Well good luck with your second robbery later then? Hope they steal the evil whatz-a-whoozit, don't trip the floor alarms or the cops might stop them from taking the thingy."

With a playful wave Terry motioned for Robot to lead the way out.
There was a stunned moment in the bank before people all over sprang into the action. The two guards and the Manager were still glued in place, but two common clients in the bank suddenly rushed Terry.

"Whoa whoa hey! We don't need any hero's here!" Terry snapped as he barely ducked a hay-maker punch and kicked the other mans legs out from under him. "Let's all just go back to being nice and mild mannered here folks!"
Frank got an eye full of his partner ducking back and deflecting the two men's attacks as they tried to subdue his best friend with what looked like training and skill. Thank god Terry wasn't quite human or he might of been in trouble.

"What is this, the fucking bank all the private security in town uses?!" Hand planting on the writing countering Terry vaulted backwards and shot both men with the Glue gun. "We are barely taking anything! Chill out! We need this money damn it and you won't lose out on anything thanks to insurance! Stop being greedy bastards!"

Frank set his phaser to stun and began zapping the rushing customers, each one falling spasming to the floor. He couldn't fight like Terry, but a lifetime on shooting games like House of Zombies, Scary Carnival, and Terrorist Crisis had honed his pistol skills to a fine and sharpened point. Once Terry was free from his glue-covered and twitching assaulters frank began issuing orders taken straight from the FPS games they'd played together.

"Alright fighting retreat. Get to the door and funnel them in. Most seem to be melee oriented, so treat them like zombies. Conserve ammo and watch for ranged threats. Taxi-bot, You are moving cover. Vehicle mode and through the exit."

He began walking backward covering the few people who were still rushing forward and sending them twitching to the ground.

The robot became a Car again and began exiting the building though the front doors, but with a slower pace to keep Frank and Terry protected from any threats on the outside.

More then a few people took note of the zombie comment. Who were these guys? A transforming robot, combat training, arcane awareness, were they ex-heros or ex- TEMPS?

Once the car reached the doors and Terry and Frank were backing outside the people inside stopped trying to rush them. In fact most of them seemed unwilling to even follow them outside.
A even more welcomed sight was that the front lot was lacking cop cars waiting for them.

Once they were fully out Terry shot the double doors again, re-glueing them in place. "Ooooookay." He looked at Frank as they both still used the car as cover from the bank roof. "That was...kinda weird. Why they all go ballistic? I checked, this bank isn't tied to High Life! Is it like a Crab bank?! Does he have banks?!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:11, Sat 25 Apr 2015.

From atop the building a dark shadow dropped down, revealing itself to be a man in a long coat and matching hat, his face obscured by a domino mask.

He drew himself up to his full height,"Perhaps they didn't enjoy being robbed. I think you boys should give the artifact to me. It's far more dangerous than you realize."

Frank rolled his eyes, "Okay jeez, Everybody wants us to steal that thing. You want it, guy, it's still there in the safety deposit box. Like hell we're stealing some cursed artifact. You want it, guy it's still inside."

That surprised the middle-aged man with the five o'clock shadow, "How did you know it was cursed?"

"We've watched horror movies dude! I have a affinity for them in fact so we have a pretty good idea when there is a single weird object being held in a bank and people desperately want us to steal it that there is probably something wrong with said thing." Terry rolled his eyes at the man and then frowned. This guy looked really familiar for some reason but Terry couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Not like he'd seen him on TV familiar, but like standing in the check out line at the super market familiar.

"Might be a little hard to get in though." He motioned to the glued shut door. "Try one of the office windows? They probably have the back door locked down from the robbery. Honestly, if like you tell them you are there to steal the whatz-a-whoszit them might just open a side door for you. I mean, they were expecting you and got us so thanks for that I guess? Made out life momentarily easier until everyone and their dog went nuts on us in the lobby. Just what is this place anyway? You're not a Villain right? Were you like...supposed to stop someone else from stealing it? Did we just step on someones lines?"

Terry looked at Frank with a frown. "Was this supposed to a trap for Mr Mask here and we just inadvertently saved this guys life? Were all those guys that jumped us some Villain's planted goons? But wouldn't they have realized we weren't the right people right away?" Once again Terry was forgetting to not think aloud.

The man looked rather put-out, "B..but I don't rob banks, I'm a hero. I only step in when common persons get in over their heads with magic."

Frank gave him a salute, "Well, I appreciate your concern for common working folk like us, but if you want to do your good turn, it's still inside. Box Forty-seven."

The man seemed uncertain for a moment before putting forth a hand making a series of gestures, "I don't believe you. This has to be a trick. Why wouldn't you steal it? it's worth millions at private auction."

His hands began to glow with a hazy purple aura, "Also, you robbed a bank, so there's that." He shrugged.

"Worth Millions at private auction if it doesn't drive us mad, suck us into another dimension, release unspeakable horrors into our home, unleash SPEAKING horrors in our home that ruins the ending to all movies, tv shows, books, and games forever, or like just kill us dead."
He shrugged and shot the man's feet with the glue.

"And man, I don't even know how to set up a private auction, how do you even know who to contact for that crap? Best I could do is pawn is somewhere and it get like...a fiver at most. Couldn't sell it to eh university they'd know it as stolen. Where do people get this mysterious rich people contacts?! I want mega rich friends!"

Getting shot with the paintball marker caused him to release the 'hold' spell he was casting, causing all three of them to be wrapped in glowing purple bonds.

Frank sighed, "Well, now what?"

The hero struggled against his own spell before nearly falling over, his feet being glued to the ground prevented that. "Well, this spell normally lasts for two hours. I can dismiss it, but that will cause your bonds to dismiss as well. So, lets talk; Give me the artifact."

"But we are stuck, how can we give you anything?" Terry sighed. "Man, its like asking a guy with a mask 'who are you really?', you gotta think stuff through guy. Also, we told you, we don't have it!" Terry began to flex within the confines of the spell, if he could talk and breath and swallow what else could he do?

"How about, you let us go, go inside, get the cursed thing and then we three are all happy!" He flashed the man a grin he couldn't see through the mask. "Ehh ehh? Pretty good deal right? C'mon man, do you want some other hero showing up and stopping you from getting your evil thingy? Or uh, I guess some villain who had made a call to the bank telling them he wanted the thingy? What if they are in there right now stealing it!?"