1963-11-27 - We Are the Brotherhood
Summary: The Brotherhood comes out of hiding; while getting some funky gold press latinum!
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
josh gambit lynette silencer raven 

It took a while to put this one together. Three weeks to be exact. Plans were set in the works by Cain, who.. obviously isn't present. What was left behind was schematics and a bag full of masks and a set of keys. Everything was set and ready to go. But little did they know..


"Hello.. FBI?" Raven says, twiddling her finger around the extension chord of the phone. She was set in a pace, hanging along the wall, even twirling about it boredly. "..I have a tip. Yes. A tip. Its viable. Yes. Someone is attempting to rob the Federal Reserve. Uh huh. The one in Joisey. I heard them! Mutants! Or maybe ali— oh god they're coming to get me! AHhhh!" And then she hangs up.


The duffel bag of masks were slammed down upon the table. There were three of them, each to be distributed to those who showed up. This OP? It was going to be a doozy. Raven knew this. But did she care? Nope.

"I'm going to go through the front door." She states plainly, pressing a finger upon the schematics that marks her entry. "I'll be in disguise. Gambit and Lynette, you hit the vault." Keys were tossed towards Gambit for him to catch. "Blast a hole through the back wall, the truck will be there waiting. There's an underground access that they use to move the gold bars. Cain has placed machines there ready for your use. Lynette, you watch his back."

With that said, she gives a slight nod towards Silencer. "Sy, create your distractions. Three minutes in, I want complete silence. We're going to be in, we're going to be out, and we're going to do this clean."

Already her skin was rippling, phasing through faces until she finds one that fits. An elderly woman, with a slight hunch and a cane that was soon twirled within her fingers. "And if we run into opposition? Non-lethal. I think we need a break from all the killing."

Because there was a point.

"We have our safehouses. We already have our money. The masks should protect your faces. -Do- not take them off. Are we understood?" She doesn't wait for a reply, she just goes. "We leave in five."


ROLL: Lynette +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 55


ROLL: Silencer +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 3


Remy Le Beau puts on one of the masks from the table, a devilish, awful thing of red and orange. Large blue eyes give this demon a look of being surprised when he gets it affixed to his head. He turns to Lynette, "'ow d'I look, chere?"

The instructions all come to Remy in waves. He's got it. He's confident. What could go wrong? They've had a good run of luck lately. Cool as a cucumber.


ROLL: Scott +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 96


Terry Walker (Silencer) pulls his mask over his head and immediately grimaces. "Okay mates, whose job was it to wash the masks? This one smells like Fred's feet. No offense to Fred."

With the mask finally on, he gets out a cigarette, sticks it in the mouth-slit of the mask, and goes to light it up. "I'm all set." He glances then at Gambit and smirks. "Better," the Aussie replies, what with the Cajun's face being covered and all…

Silencer chuckles.


ROLL: Raven +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 59


If there was ever an example of rag-tag, this might have been it. The dark skinned girl was new. New-new, so much so that the 'green' of her probably had a scent. She had met Remy before, and Raven, but the rippling over her skin still caues the girl to give a shudder, and stare in amazement. Silencer, however, was new to her. Silent, and with a timid smile, she offers him a wiggle of her fingers.

Now, it was time for business. She nods when being told what to do, at least she could watch backs, and she was an old hand at theft, so this shouldn't be too bad, should it? And with two of them a bit 'lucky', it's all good in the hood. Hopefully. At least she wore black clothing tonight.

After pulling back her unmistakable floof into a woven cap, she, too, slips on her mask, one that's almost skeletal with its features. Canting her head to the side, she eyes Remy and nods. "S'good look on y', beau."


Travel to the Federal Reserve was fast. Though the streets along it look almost eerily bare. The cars that used to remain in the parking lot were still there, and yet there was an 'abandoned' feel to it. The gates themselves towards that lot remained guarded, new faces that kept the underground parking complex safe and secure, and if a person was well trained enough, they would be able to see that they were armed.

It was a bright day. A crisp carried within the air, a woman and a man walk past, arm locked in laughter as both of them tugs their coats close to combat the wind.

Delivery trucks of all sorts line the street. One was a cleaners. Another was the papers. The last was a bread delivery service that had the back doors open and the carts of bread taken out and stacked upon the dolley.

Everything was normal.


'Any movement from the inside?' John Frankford says over his radio.
'Nothing here.'
'Vault all clear.'
'Garage clear.'
'This ain't a false call. I know those fucks are roaming around here somewhere..' - John mutters.
'Well, what do they look like?'
'I don't know. Maybe one of those mutherfuckers are green!'

'Stay alert folks, we have incoming.'

The old woman hobbles towards the stairs, leaning upon the stone construct, her hand latching onto the metal railing as she begins to hoist herself up. And it was -slow-. AGONIZINGLY slow. One would think five hours had passed until she got to the door.

'Be ready to move, on my mark. Keep this quiet, clean. We don't need another upset.' John says into the radio.
'Got it boss.'
'Radio silent.'

Raven watches her watch for the moment, her lips pursing, trusting the -team- to already be in place. How they get there? Well, they have a certain set of skills..

How will they get out? No one knows!

But the front door was breached, Raven's head had a hard time staying still; bobbling back and forth as she practically tremors in place, looking to the left.. and then to the right, her head lowering in that wiggle as she shuffles on.


"You real funny," Remy says with a grin at Silencer. "Now ah see why yo friends go and give ya dat codename o' yours.' Remy gives her a wink from behind the mask, "Erryting does, lass."

After they get to the Reserve, Remy is standing in an alleyway at the side entrance of the building, smoking a cigarette and trying not to be noticed. His back is to the opening onto the street and the mask he has is still in his pocket. The employee entrance, however, is pretty close to him, and that's the lock he intends on breaking to gain entrance. From there it's a hop skip and a jump to the vault.



Silencer approaches the bank from the same angle as Gambit and Lynette — whom he greets with another smirk and a, "G'day, luv. Call me Sy — an' you're…?"

Not really waiting for an answer, the former-soldier sets down a battery-operated ghetto-blaster, cranks the volume to FULL and turns it on…

Nothing happens.

No sound anyway.

One distraction coming up… says the man, also silently… and out in the street a car flips over — smashing into another car in the process. It then crashes into the windows near the front door (without hitting Raven of course).

"Okay, I reckon they're distracted," Sy remarks audibly once more — although the stereo remains muted.


Lynette shakes her head, slipping her mask up for a moment and allowing it to rest on the top of her noggin. The Cajun's comment has her rolling her eyes, but she moves out with the rest, and as told, sticks with Remy. "M'Lyn…Sola. Jus' call me Sola." She replies to Sy, and gives another look toward the foursome as a whole. "If dey cam'ras, I c'n cover dem in a bit a'shadow if need be." She offers as they start to move out.

Now at their target, she huddles herself up in her jacket, mask hidden away. To take in more heat, or more second hand of both smokes and gin, the girl steps to her fellow swamp rat, and shivers next to him. The sounds of the crashes, however, do not go unmissed. In a hushed whisper, she glances up to the man with red-black eyes. "T'ought y'tol' me his name was /Silence/-er."



Josh has totally been here the whole time, just hanging back a bit: its been a heavy couple of days. The mask is welcome, and in addition to it he has a black hoodie, gloves and everything: after all his gold skin stands out like a sore thumb. He flexes his hands, moving up beside the three at the employee's entrance, ready to reach out and touch someone if they come across them.


Remy choosing the employee entrance was spot on. That's where most of the employees happen to take some of their breaks. Some would snog, some would have a smoke away from the cash. Granted, while they were able to smoke inside, the current operator of the Federal Reserve wanted to keep things clean. Neat and tidy. Not an ashtray in sight. So to say that they were standing in the butts of the building was a true and literal fact. Cigarette butts. Someone even drew a smily face in which the radio was set upon!

Raven. Slow as she was, moved in the direction towards the counters. Where there were people, tellers exchanging money with foreigners who come to visit, drawing out legal tenders with a sort of automation that had her questioning. Were the FBI already here? They actually -came-? Well gee golly! This is going to be -fun-!

Though, the flip and the crash of the car through the front door of the building was a distraction she did not want. She was hoping for something small, not big!

"Fucking Terry." She blurts out, all the while coming to her senses to leap upon a guard to drive him out of the way of oncoming debris..



Stations and trucks were abandoned, the back doors of vans were opened, people who walked by and seemed a 'little' bit normal actually dropped their act to begin to advance upon the front of the Reserve.

They abandon it so much, that even a dog is left yelping and running down the street!

Perhaps Terry's distraction proved a very good one; the employee entrance (which on the other side of the door, opposite from the four) was vacated in favor of being the first one to collar a mutie scum. The muffled sounds of the FBI preparing, cackling even, and their footfalls could (or maybe not) be heard as they begin to wind their ways through to the front.

While not smart, at least they came in numbers, right?


"Dat's jus' what 'is momma call 'im, I tink," Remy says with a shrug of the shoulders. Once things get super crazy, Le Beau gets serious and turns to give Lynette some important instructions. Nothing comes out of his mouth at all, unfortunately and the Cajun gives a weary sigh and then mouths the words, "Fuckin' Silencer."

His finger touches the lock of the door, which immediately begins to pulse with a purplish energy. Remy is careful not to fill it with too much and he pulls his hand back just as it lets out a medium sized explosion. When the smoke clears, Remy pushes the door open with his foot and begins to waltz through the offices, putting his mask in place before he meets any of the folks who are sure to notice. He obviously has no idea that the FBI is coming.


With a portion of the sonic energy Terry stole all used up (the flying car), sound returns… for a little while. Every few seconds or minutes, something somewhere goes quiet — and it isn't always the stereo.

…made of snow but the children…

…life one day! Fro — .

…them down the streets of t — .

Hurry on his w —.

Yes, it's the popular Christmas tunes of Perry Como BLARING away at full volume — no volume — full volume — no volume — and so on, from the alley where Sy, Lyn, Josh and Remy had just been. Sy glares behind himself… and suddenly there is a FLATTENED stereo lying in the alley. "C'mon, sheilas," he tells both Remy, Josh and Lyn. "You byewties go for the vault — I'm headin' for Raven." And he bounds away toward the main room.


"I should be where there's most likely to be danger, you sure that's the vault?" asks Elixir of Silencer, though the young man is a little bit uncertain. He is in no way an expert on robbing a bank. Still, he rolls his shoulders and prepares to follow Gambit.


Lynette smirks and glances to the side, keeping her close space with Remy; he was a wonderful wind blocker, after all. She notices his lips move, but the sudden lack of 'sound' causes her eyes to widen and a look of shock to wash over her face. She blinks, squints, a brow quirks and she rubs at her ear. He can see her saying 'what'; she has no voice. There wasn't a memo, after all, of what Terry's powers actually were. The more you know.

She notices action, energy (with no freurnnn-pop), and when Remy moves in, she, too, slips on her mask and strides behind him almost casually. This was, granted, larger than picking pockets to survive, but it was still just being a thief, right? Nodding to Josh, she leans his way and whispers almost silently. "De hell'd he jus' call us?"


Such a crew! Golden boy and those who don't speak proper English enter into the building…
..narrowly missing the FBI Agents that rush through the offices to get to the front.

Raven wasn't having that much luck, for as she pounced the guard down to the ground, she gives him a flat look, blue skin, yellow eyes, red hair and all. And a smile. "WHOOPS!"

Yet, pause on that action for a moment, time for some -info dump-! The back end of the Federal Reserve was a decent maze after all. All it takes is the right path to take (which would be on the left), and down the set of stairs after breeching the security door. The Federal Reserve was in the pinnacle of technology. And yet, there were no cameras that actually operated within the cooridor. There were three guards, however. One employed by the FBI to stand watch -just- in case they were fed the wrong information. And in this case, they were!

Raven wanted to send a message.

But that didn't mean she didn't want those lovely gold bars in the Brotherhood's possession! Armed as they were at hearing the crash of the car through the window, ready and waiting for a head to pop around the corner that wasn't even kindly…


"Whoops!" Raven says, immediately somersaulting over the fallen guard; narrowly avoiding a swipe at her feet to scamper behind the couch and out of view. It was almost like childs play. But she had to mind herself. No lethal shots. Crippling, yes. But no killing. Not today.

From behind that couch, a table was soon flipped out into the open, soaring through the air to at least cut off a few of those ascending FBI Agents.. one of which John Frankford was in the middle of. Guns were immediately drawn, and shots were fired! At a table! The thunderous sound echoing through the hall which means..

Hurry up and get that gold!


Remy shrugs his shoulders at Lynette's question as he soldiers on past a row of large filing cabinets, some offices of really confused people, and the men's bathroom where one worker steps out with toilet paper still fully affixed to his shoe.

He reaches out, nonchalantly to grasp the man upon the shirt, and strongly shoves him back into the bathroom. Man on a mission.

As he passes by, seeing out into the main office area, Remy sees that things are heating up. He descends the stairs four at a time, using the wall and the railing as a brace. When he gets to the bottom of the steps there's a man who jumps out in front of them, only to get a metal smack to the teeth wtih Remy's bo-staff. There, in front of him, is the vault.


Leaving Remy, Lyn and Josh to deal with the vault and whatever — or whomever — awaits them there, the crass Australian makes a dash into the front room of the Federal Reserve, attacking the nearest guard with a telekinetic thump to the man's gut, winding him. Another FBI agent points a gun at Terry — who steals a little more sound to force the gun down… and the agent shoots himself in the foot.

He screams.

Until Terry 'pockets' the agent's voice and skids into the centre of the room. "Miss me? Oh, bloody — ," hell. He sees the rest of the gathered agents and accidentally mutes himself. I'm screwed, he mouths — and slowly puts his hands up. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… all mute.


"I'm pretty sure he called us pretty." answers Josh to Lynette, and though his face can not be seen, one can almost hear the grin on his voice. "Truer words were never spoken." And then he's picking up his pace, and as Gambit proves himself an excellent distraction, Elixir reaches out and lays hands upon the shoulders of the next two set of guards. Golden light flows around his glove and into the men, seeking out their central nervous system to suspend it, intending to send the guards into a biokinetically induced coma.


"Non, I got dat part. Jus', who de hell is 'Sheila?'?" A tiny girl between the two men, she keeps up the pace, not even casting a glance at those in their offices, and even less so to those becoming overly curious. As they come closer to the vault, she pushes a small bit of her 'luck' and 'animation', forcings doors to slam shut and lights to flicker, fizzle and pop. Robbery is one thing, but spooking people in warning, is another.

Once they've reached the vault, she stands off to the side, her back against a wall as shadows swell around the newly snake-eyed waif. The almost thick substance covers their backs, giving them some from of visual cover, and even as it slinks around her from personally, the space is still open, and light, for Remy and Josh to work.


It was possibly a knee jerk reaction, the guard jumping out as he did got pelted right in the mouth. That trigger pressure smack dropped him in one fell swoop, but thankfully he rolled upon his side in the fall so that he didn't choke upon his teeth! Josh was quick on the draw as well, their brains lightening up, then a sudden dull which have them both collapsing in a safe way that the golden man provides. What Raven wants, she gets. Non-lethal as they do it.

(No need to traumatize the girl on her first mission out!)

Terry on the other hand; proved to be the distraction that he was! In fact, one would consider that he practically fucked up everything even to the point he silenced himself through it all. Raven on the other hand was on the move, snagging the guard that was upon the ground, her hand dropping down his belt to remove the gun that was held there, pistol pointed towards the mans temple as she keeps her back to the wall, the man in front of her like a shield.

They didn't notice her just yet, but guns were drawn down upon Silencer, each of them shouting at him in turn. One man orders him to the ground. Another calls him a prick. One says mutie scum. Was there a freak added in too?

Clearly, they were outnumbered, but the wild-card was still in play. But first?

"How about we all put our guns down or I'll blow this fucking man's head off?"

A slight lean of a yellow eye is planted upon Silencer. This was clearly a stall tactic for the others to continue to work downstars. "Their guns." He would know. She need not say anymore.

"And get me a radio."


LeBeau cracks his knuckles by lacing his fingers and pushing out. With a roll of his shoulders, he puts both hands on the front of the vault. Slowly but surely the purple energy seeps out over the entirety of the front of the vault. The trick is to blow it up without doing any damage to the insides…or the outside. "Step behin' da wall, y'hear?" Remy says before he releases his fingers from the vault and leaps back behind the wall. Just in case.


Bloody hell! Bloody, bloody, damn-it an' bloody hell…

Silencer continues swearing mutely, hands on his head, even after Raven put a gun to a guy's head and 'suggests' the other agents put theirs down.

Bloody — , Sy looks up, using just his eyes. He glances firstly at all the FBI agents, and secondly at Raven, and slowly starts lowering his hands again. "I was just gettin' into that," he tells her in a complaining tone of voice. "I run in, punch someone or whatever, get caught — lose my shit — and then do somethin', you know, impressive."

There are still firearms pointed at him.

Then Sy hears Raven say, 'their guns…' and the Australian smirks. "You know, luv. You say the nicest things to me." With that, he blankets the entire bank in silence — every room, every phone, every toilet-flush, every breath, every heartbeat — for about seven seconds.

And suddenly all the guns are pointed back at the agents in the lobby. "There'll be reinforcements any second now, luv," the Aussie adds, trying to manage the TK stuff and letting his team talk. "Hope the others are up to it."


As he moves behind the wall, Josh reaches out to lay a hand on both Remy and Lynette, just in case the explosion does any damage: he'll immediately pour healing into them if things get out of hand. There's an explosion! And golden light shimmers around Elixir, but really, with them hiding behind the wall it wasn't needed. Better safe then sorry, though.


Another shift of activity, and then nothing, causes the Creole to give another shake of her head. A moving figure of living shadow, she shifts when told to, tucking back behind cover with both Gambit and Elixir. A mixture of golden light and darkness swims around the trio as they wait to make a rather loud entrance to their main objective.

The doors she had shut remain that way. Handles playfully wiggling when touched, keeping all those inside a room in, and not allowing any of them to escape to both 'freedom', but more likely, into harm's way.


A long time ago, Raven must have said some sweet words to Gambit about the color purple. How much she likes it or, how much she likes it when he does it, or something along those lines. Yet, who knows why and what the hell those two were doing together to begin with. Things just sort of clicked.

Like here.

It was a stalled effect, luck ran on the Gambino's side, for once they all were behind the wall, the loud, crack and a boom shudders the entire Federal Reserve, putting everyone on alarm.

The workers that were in the offices? They were currently being shuffled out the side door.

The man with the tissue paper on his shoe? He had to use it to wipe again, because he just shit himself.

The black and golden orb was a thing of beauty. Protection for her people all around; nothing but the best. Even the men who fell into a coma (and one who was knocked out), remain shielded behind their respective walls, though there was a quiet surety that if they were injured in a sort of way, Josh would take care of it.

But for now, Terry's bitching gained a roll of an eyes that no one could tell, her head bobbing as he goes through the motions of his clear bitching, Raven's hand clicking down the hammer of the gun as she gives a hard press to the mans head. "Radio. Lift it up."

The man does as he's told, but he doesn't turn it on just yet. She was watching the FBI Agents slowly lower themselves to the ground, their own hands raised..

And it was an eerie sight.

Some of them screamed words towards Silencer. The others Raven. One clamped his hands over his mouth and the other his ears. Some were bawling and panicking.

"Press the button dear, and hold it." The captive guard does so, which crackles over the comms, penetrating the sound within the basement after the blast.

"Elixir. Are you there?" She pauses.. and waits.. "Elixir. Tell these assholes what they need to hear."


Gambit leaps through the dust-fog making it to the other side of the vault, now, leaving the bag filling to the other two for the moment. He puts his hands upon the edge and closes his eyes, putting all of his force into blowing this explosion outward and towards the getaway vehicles. Mentally he wishes Fred or Cain were here to help with the bags, but these three will have to get the job done.

By now, the entire edge of the vault is purple, ready to explode. This time, instead of splitting the blast equally, Remy is forcing it all outwards.


"…get away with this!"

"…freaks! The U.S. government will…"

"ARRRGH! My foot! My fuck — !!"

"…never stop hunting…"

"I shot my own — !!"

And so it goes. It is a struggles for Silencer to keep on holding all the guns in position, while at the same time managing the flow of acoustic signals all around him (the source and direction of sound-waves) so that he only mutes some or most, but not all of them.

"Tell the bastard to hurry up," he says to Raven, speaking either of the guard with the radio… or Elixir. Then the Aussie glares through his mask at the agents and heaves a sigh. "I'm getting a headache."

All the guns cock themselves. The agents shut up. All the guns fire — upwards, making it 'rain ceiling' — but they don't make a noise.

"Ahhh," exclaims Sy. "That's better." And some of the guns start swaying back and forth as if in time to a Viennese Waltz.


Elixir heads for the radio, lifting it and speaking with a clarion voice, "You might think us thieves, but we are not thieves. Today is not about stealing. Today is about impounding resources— resources that pay for the police, the military. Resources that we all know is going to lead to walls with barbed wire tops around Mutant Towns the nation over, resources that will put 'the mutant problem' out of mind. Resources that we all know will be used for only one final solution: that the answer to the 'mutant problem' is 'no more mutants'. We are the Brotherhood of Mutants. We are the line in the sand, and we are telling you: no more and never again. You will not use these resources to burn another Mutant Town to the ground. We are the Brotherhood of Mutants and we did not start this war. You did. For Sacramento. For our brothers and sisters abused, cast out and murdered. We did not start this war, but we have the will to end it. Jefferson said: The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. We are the Brotherhood of Mutants and we are those patriots and you are those tyrants."

Taking a deep breath, Elixir shuts the radio off, and flings a bag around, and goes to make a point of filling as much gold as he can carry.


Lynette slinks into the now open safe, the darkness peeling off her form and leaving her 'normal'. Bag down, she unzips it with a flick of her fingers and glances around the room. Gloved fingers start pulling at bars, slipping them into the duffle as fast as she can. She wasn't a strong girl, and anyone could tell, or see, that from her lanky form. It was frustrating, and that much was also obvious by a soft 'huff' that muffles behind her masked lips.

When Elixir speaks, she listens. Her head up, staring at him for a few moments of inspiration silence, and once the radio is off, and he starts his own work, she takes a stand back and moves out her hands. It wasn't the best time, but it was a time when it mattered. Her fingers move out, stretching, splaying, before curling slowly into fists. More bars than two at a time move and float toward her bag. Stacking, it closes itself, and then she's working on another. What her body couldn't do, she pushes her mind to compensate.


The wall of the vault crumbled deliciously under the might of Gambit. It was done with precision, the wall falling outward and knocking lightly against the truck that was planted there, a brief rock given.. until it was still. Keys were readily in the ignition; a map upon the passenger seat just in case they were lost beneath the city and..

..someone left a pack of snacks and juices behind! In buckets of ice! Aww! Job well done guys!

But the doors were unlocked for them to make a quick getaway, and Raven knows that they were floating on borrowed time. Yet this? This was magic. Watching Silencer, listening to Josh.. -knowing- damn well her thieves were getting good while the getting was -there-.

We all just love when a plan comes together.

And all the while, the blue skinned devil kept her eyes upon them all. John Frankford was the main aggressor in all of this. Where Josh spoke, he promised hell. Where Josh liberated the team with his words? Racial epithets were soon in play. He was pissed. Rained down upon by the ceiling of it all, eyes red and -glaring-.

"He is generous with his words." Raven finally intones, dragging the captive guard with her towards the rest of the hostage. Her words for the lot of them, even the smile that settles upon her face as she looks to them all. "But he did not tell you, that we are /many/. We are in your homes. We are in your offices. We drive you around and place milk at your door. -EVERYWHERE- you look, we're there. Do not believe the severity of the situation?"


The gun was possibly muted, or not. But either way, the guard was not himself dead, just shaken to the core. A line burnt right into his cheek as she gives him a right shove towards the ground, Raven's head tossing as she begins to skirt back, her arms stretched out.

"Knock 'em out Sy!" It was time to go!


Fillin bags. Always fillin' bags. Remy fills as much as he can carry. He can hear Josh's words and he grins to himself as he continues to put as much green as he can in the highest denominations he can find. "Atta boy, kid."

Out in the sunlight out back, Gambit is throwing bags into the van. While the others work, he starts up the car. If one looks into the driver side mirror, they can notice he has a straw sticking out of some sort of pouch.


"Like I said, luv," Sy remarks to Raven as she heads out. "The nicest things. That's a good kid ya snagged, too," he adds — referring to Josh. "Bit long-winded but good; I prefer to just shoot — oh. Shuttin' up."

The guns fire at the ceiling again — he really does enjoy doing that — as if this were a silent movie, and Terry takes the energy to thwack! every guard in the room in the back of the head with a telekinetic strike. If people could see the energy at work, they might call it surgical.

Terry'd call it 'goin' soft on 'em'. Some of the FBI agents require more than one 'thwack' as the Aussie follows his illustrious leader out the front door. "Got plans tonight?" he asks her. "I can think of a few things to do."


Josh doesn't have supernatural strength, but his biokinetics keep him at a peak physical level so he can carry more then his fair share. So with a grunt, he heaves, and swings the money up over a shoulder for leverage, and nods around at his partners in… patriotism. He nods his head deeply to Lynette, encouraging, when he sees her work her mojo. Once they get to the escape van, Josh pulls off his mask and looks between them: Lynette might be surprised to see his skin has gone a pure, metallic black. He is no more the golden boy. "Not a bad day's work."


Lynette keeps her hands down, her lithe form starting to tremble. She can feel sweat beading and trickling down the backside of her mask. Slitted pupils continue their focus as three, four, five bags of stacks and gold move into the waiting van. Huffing, she allows herself to breathe and her arms drop, each step a sway before she crawls into the van and 'shlunk', closes the doors behind them. Falling back, she drags the mask away to drink in fresh air, while gazing at the pair of men with her. She offers them a tired smile, and where she notices the jet hue of Josh, he might notice the faintest pattern of scarlet diamond scales on the side of her throat and jaw.

"Well, dat w's nice." A pause. "Y'talk pretty, Lix." Another slump, she's practically laying down in the back seat, and pulling at her headwrap to allow her kinks and curls bouncey freedom. "Ah shit…we got snacks, too? I t'ink I love y'guys."


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