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Post by Michael Smith on May 4, 2013 18:43:48 GMT -5
Five minutes ago, Michael had been in a suit. He'd also been in a bank down Amsterdam Avenue with three other men. Okay, so maybe he should have got for a bank in Gotham, but it was Manhattan and he really couldn't help himself. After the other men knocked the security guards out with chloroform and took control of the situation, Michael had demanded the money somewhat calmly, albeit with a few good fairytale references hidden amongst the small threads of his promises.
"Just give us everything... I promise you won't get hurt..." He said to the nearest staff member, hands in his pockets. "And really, we're not all that interested in you..." He continued, pacing now. "It's just that... The urge hit and, well... Here we are! Just like little princes on horseback." He laughed softly while looking at the staff member as she packed a bag with money...
But that was five minutes ago, and things had changed since then. Michael had changed since then and dropped the other members of his little team. With the bag of money over one shoulder, and with a suitcase which held his suit in the other hand, Michael now looked like a tourist. A baseball cap shielded the top half of his face with ease as he looked around. His hair was now messy for what was probably one of the first times since he'd started his job all those years ago... So perfect of a disguise. So perfect. Not something anyone would probably expect of the person who usually wore crisp, expensive suits... Especially given the state of the clothes he was currently wearing. It was enough, it seemed, to fool the police, though. At least, it would once they arrived provided that he was still around...
Crossing the nearest road with glee that such an improvised heist had gone according to the quick plan Michael had thought up, he grinned while walking before wiping the expression off of his face and instead looking around as though trying to find somewhere. How else to fool anyone who saw what happened than to be just another lost tourist in a sea of fools and ignorant eye-witnesses. Of course, someone may have realised but they'd had to have been playing very close attention and granted, a bank robbery didn't often go unnoticed, but did people really watch that intently? He could only wait and find out... Or leave and never find out except from his source. That was safer. Much safer.
Continuing to walk away from the scene of the crime, with the slight disappointment that no one had died, Michael kept his head down while walking, the bag of money resting against his back as he almost hoped that the police wouldn't arrive any time soon. He might get asked questions and, while he would love to act out the innocent tourist who didn't see anything, he didn't think it was a particularly good idea... Would be fun, though... Outsmart the police and get away after answering their silly little questions? So much fun, it would be... He almost wanted them to arrive soon for that very reason, though he'd be surprised... Really, he would. He'd be surprised and rather happy about it. What better chance would he get, after all? He didn't stop, though. He carried on walking, just like he knew he ought to so as to not get caught...
((Notes: Anyone who ends up replying to this: I'M SO DAMN SORRY. Michael muse has gone a tad bit wild... XD)) |
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Post by Megan Anne Morse on Aug 21, 2013 10:49:23 GMT -5
Megan had needed one minute to get away, so that she could shift to being green, and then phase through the walls to become Miss Martian
The Green Guardian After that, it took 3 minutes and 40 seconds to stop the rest of the bank robbers, knocking them unconscious for the police to clean up, but leaving the leader to get away.... Miss Martian soon ran after him too, only to lose him in the crowd. Hovering over the nearby crowd of the bank, she visually scanned the crowd, shielding her eyes against the sunlight with her hand, and looking for a business-suited man with a sack of money and a backpack. Businessman, banker, banker, up-class cabbie, fancy red dress woman, cheap tourist, rock star, lawyer.... Wait.... Cheap Tourist ? In Manhattan ? The most expensive of the expensive in new york, which itself was already expensive as far as cities and local prices went ? "You there ! " Miss martian called out, drifting in the air towards him. |
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Post by Michael Smith on Aug 21, 2013 12:10:27 GMT -5
The status of his little team and whether they'd escaped weren't things that the Irishman knew about. If they hadn't then he'd send them all lawyers or break them out of prison. As he was walking, his phone began vibrating in his pocket. He hooked it out and saw a text from his source. Well, they probably hadn't escaped, then. He opened the text while pausing in the middle of the street in order to read it before raising the phone as though he were taking a picture of a near-by building while he read the text.
They've been caught. Green girl. She's disappeared.
He touched back and glanced around ground level. It didn't matter much whether she'd seen him or not, though he still felt his heart speed up in the unfamiliar feeling of... Worry. It may have been worry. He didn't want to be caught, after all, so he looked back the way he'd been headed and continued wandering as though aimless. No one looked twice at the apparent tourist. Even though Michael didn't look like he had too much going for him, he knew full damn well that any tourist could look exactly like him. He'd seen tourists looking a lot like him, actually... Then again, most of those tourists had been in London and there was probably a difference in people who were going to London and those going to Manhattan.
Hearing someone call out, Michael glanced behind him before looking up. Green girl who had disappeared. That's what his Source had said. That would explain how she'd disappeared. Michael stopped walking as he turned to her. His expression turned from confused to scared, as though he had no idea what was going on or who she was. He looked around him, seemingly looking for whoever she was talking to before looking back up at her.
"Are... Are you talking to me?" He asked, his Irish accent adding innocence to his nervous tone. His eyes seemed to widen the longer he was looking at her, as though he was only now really taking in what he was seeing. She was drifting so he wondered how unusual it would be for someone to be scared upon facing her, especially someone who wasn't from Manhattan. Admittedly, he hadn't known about her before getting here, but he didn't mind finding out from now. "I... I'm sorry. I just... I'm not... Not from around here." He stuttered with a small shrug, pulling as many nerves into his tone as he could while watching her.
After a moment, Michael took a minor step back though soon began fidgeting and shifting his weight as though uncertain.
"Is... Is there something... Um, I mean... Is there anything I... I can do for you?" He asked, his eyes widening a little more as he gave a small, nervous smile while changing which hand his suitcase was in and shifting his weight again. "Sorry. It's... It's just not very often that, um, that someone flies without wings... Or planes..." He added before giving a small laugh, though it was high with apparent nerves.
((Notes: Thar we go. I'm kind of sorry how long this is... But also not sorry at all. I was wrong, though. He was carrying a suitcase... I need to re-read threads before I answer questions in future... XD Hope this is okay, though. ^_^)) |
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Post by Megan Anne Morse on Aug 21, 2013 16:18:03 GMT -5
Lofting a brow at his nervous/scared reaction, she landed and stood on the ground so as to not be ominously over him.
Smiling at his ironic quip about 'not being from around here', she spoke to the apparently irish tourist. "Indeed we are both not from around here, but to the matter at hand. There has been a bank robbery and i'm sorry to say, but you are suspiciously out of place among the more upper-class new york parts."
Some distance away, cell phones were being aimed at her and recording her, but she paid them no mind.... Megan even waved at one, with the somewhat nearby cell-phone owner waving back and mumbling something.
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Post by Michael Smith on Aug 21, 2013 20:49:01 GMT -5
Watching her as she landed, the seemingly nervous man wondered whether or not she believed his act before he heard her speak. Of course he looked out of place. He was, based on appearance only, a tourist and everyone else was wearing suits and expensive looking items of clothing. He gave a hint of a laugh, though it was somewhat uncertain sounding, and shrugged softly with the smile still spreading his features and smothering them with the same nerves and uncertainty that any actions he was doing - mostly fidgeting and shifting his weight from one leg to the other repeatedly - held in buckets.
"Well I... I'm just visiting. I'm from Dublin... Southern Ireland... Not... Not Northern." He stated, stuttering through the statement with what could possibly have come across as anxiety beginning to peek through his words. "I'm going around America, you see. Thought... Thought Manhattan would be fun. Y'know, you see it in all the films and things... Doctor Who, too. Daleks in Manhattan..." He trailed off, smile growing ever so slightly as he seemed to try making himself smaller. The hand holding his phone from minutes before moved to scratched at his neck gently before slipping the phone into his pocket.
He watched her while shifting his weight again, his now empty hand moving to rub at the back of his neck as if trying to calm himself and his emotions with a self-soothing gesture. He continued to watch her, though, now putting his hand in his pocket while almost seeming to hold his suitcase in front of him as a protective barrier of sorts. In truth, Michael was copying certain behaviours he knew nervous people tended to do unintentionally. The barrier was a protection, in a more metaphorical way than literal. Making oneself smaller was related to the more animal-like behaviours - make yourself smaller to appear more defenceless. He knew these and he was going to use them.
His gaze dropped from her face now, though, as he began to slowly introduce more behaviours that would no doubt work within the situation, ones that were more likely to suggest defencelessness or weakness - such as bowing his head while looking down... And if this all worked, not only would he be surprised but also amused as how ordinary she would have to be to not suspect something... But then, the nervous people usually raised the least amount of suspicion... |
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Post by Megan Anne Morse on Sept 14, 2013 20:21:00 GMT -5
Megan tilted her head and blinked at his increasing nervousness. It was abit of a non-human gesture that could be confused for a doozy of a quirk. Megan wasn't like other humans, in fact she was not at all human in spite of apperances.
The more the irish tourist cranked up the nervousness, the more megan suspected something was .... Off. Still, she decided to play nice for now. She was also abit of a fan of Doctor Who and knew what Daleks were. "I'm .... not sure i like the newer doctors. They seem hyperactive and high on drugs." Megan said, having become used to the more sedate, more cunning styles of the older-aged doctor who's. Episodes which she had seen on Tamaran, on her little cathode ray tube experiment box.
Secretly, she hoped never to have to face anything that could be at all comparable to a Dalek.
It was when she focused her eyes onto his backpack and saw into it, that she recognized that ..... There wasn't any touristy things in there, but packets of cash.
"So what is in the backpack ?" Megan slyly asked with a cute smirk, rather naively hoping that he would see that he was busted, and admit the wrong-doing.
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Post by Michael Smith on Sept 15, 2013 10:27:38 GMT -5
He didn't reply to her first words, wondering if the rather bad act was actually fooling her. He gave a seemingly uncertain shrug, though found out the answer to his wonderings a moment later as she asked what was in the backpack. A smirk stretched Michael's lips and he took a step back, smirk growing as he did so. He had half a mind to just run, but decided against it. That wouldn't be any fun. Another shrug came from the Irishman, who took another minute step back. The smirk was still in place as his hand moved to the strap of his backpack.
"Nothing interesting for someone like you." He answered, dark eyes seemingly glittering with... Amusement, perhaps. The smirk was full of it, certainly. "A rather expensive suit." He expanded, lying excellently. Of course, he didn't know whether or not she'd seen it, but that didn't matter. "And not one I'd be willing to give to you." He added, turning away from her and beginning to move off through the crowd.
Barely two steps away, Michael turned back to her. He was curious, but he had to get away from her and from here. Oh, the extraordinary people were always the most annoying, though.
"And what are you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as his smirk faded. "Not a human, certainly. Maybe we should make a scene." He suggested, cruelty twisting through his words, splintering any act he'd previously held - no matter how bad it had been. "People don't like the extraordinary, my dear..." Michael trailed off, smirk back, curving his lips coldly as he stared at her, his abyss-like eyes fixated on hers as though daring her to make a scene. Daring her to bring attention to the pair. Manhattan wasn't mutant central, he suspected. Show the world someone who didn't fit in and they'd rip them apart. Maybe he should draw attention to her instead of letting her do it. His smirk grew somehow colder as the idea whirled through his mind and thoughts silently. He was always good at making a scene...
"No one ever gets to me..." He told her, his voice a drawl that dragged the words through the air before he lifted his head and pointed at her, gripping the suitcase with one hand. "There's a mutant! Someone grab her!" He shouted, suddenly looking terrified for anyone who cared to look and be his audience. "She threatened me! I think she was behind the robbery!" He carried on, staring at her unblinkingly as he played out his act - his character. Michael always had thought he'd be better in the theater, but then again crime gave him a stage too, and he did have more fun stealing from banks and planning out murders than he probably ever would on stage...
((Notes: Hope this is okay!)) |
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Post by Megan Anne Morse on Sept 15, 2013 13:22:30 GMT -5
"And what are you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as his smirk faded. "Not a human, certainly. Maybe we should make a scene." He suggested, cruelty twisting through his words, splintering any act he'd previously held - no matter how bad it had been. "People don't like the extraordinary, my dear...." he said forebodingly, as he somehow became more sublimely alien than Megan was.
The irish tourist suddenly did a 180, and Loudly accused her of being a bank-robbing mutant who threatens people. Megan was ..... Offput, to say the least.
The cops who were doing mop-up of the stupid quartet that Megan had all but gift-wrapped, suddenly all looked at Her. She looked at them as they ran over to see what the ruckus was that also included the words 'Mutant', 'Threaten' and 'Robbery'....
Megan was in the middle of pointing to him and was about to counter-accuse him of being the one with stacks of cash in his backpack, when she actually looked back to find that he
......
Was. Gone.
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Post by Michael Smith on Sept 28, 2013 15:11:46 GMT -5
As soon as the police reacted, the Irishman began to back off. The moment she turned to look at the foolish, gullible police, Michael took off. He wove through the crowd with ease and pulled his hat off in order to blend into the mix of heads throughout the numbers of people who had become an audience to his act. He slipped it into his hoodie pocket as he moved. A short distance away from the alien and the police, Michael paused before looking back at the way he'd come. A smirk played on his lips as he put his empty hand in his pocket and pulled out a strip of gum.
Unwrapping it with one hand and putting it in his mouth, he began chewing it as he moved away casually. His hand gripped the strap of his money-filled backpack until he decided that his team would need some lawyers. Best to play it by the book, perhaps... Or a little less by the book. Since when did Michael do anything completely by the book, after all? He pulled his phone out of his pocket and began moving his thumb over the screen in order to enable himself to type out a text message to send to his source. His head was bowed as he began walking away once more. His thumb moved across the touch screen of his phone with easy speed.
Send Elizabeth, Daniel and Leanne as their lawyers.
- M.S.
He turned his head back to the alien and the police before continuing on his way, slipping his phone back into his pocket and smirking as he bowed his head again, his hand in his pocket and his gaze on the ground as it passed beneath his feet. He could probably pay someone to lose some evidence against his team, but he wanted to see if she went down, so maybe he should pay someone or everyone to let his men off not guilty and mark her down as a guilty being. It sounded like a good idea now. Well, if it ever got to court then he could manage it. It wasn't like he didn't have enough money, after all...
((Notes: MICHAEL OUT!)) |
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