Scene #7905: BNCM: The Bank

Owner	Pose
Candy	Mexico City 'Cena de Girasol' - Secret Room Beneath a Restaurant Some of you have seen Mexico City before--for those that haven't, it is a gilded nightmare. Clean streets are choked with armed soldiers carrying rifles and submachine guns. Early-model armored cars and jeep equivalents seem to outnumber consumer equivalents and public transportation 3 to 1. It seems rare, here, that people feel safe enough to be out in public, despite the size and level of development of the city. Though the paint on the buildings is fresh, and some (including the bank) even have gold-leaf trim, these things and the din of city life should not be mistaken for a place of warmth. Somewhere in the city, the rhythmic, abrupt rapport of a firing squad sounds off. The central square of the populous mountain city boasts a bronze statue of the lich and president-for-life Baltazar Ibanez. But even here, in the very seat of his power, there are a precious few Watch sympathizers, who know which symbols the lich has yet to recognize. Today, their base of operations is a secret room in the cellar of a family-owned restaurant. The room is lit by portable gas lanterns, which illuminate tables with too many empty chairs. Ten sympathizers remain in a cell which once had easily three times that number, if the chairs are any indication. In the dingy secret room, a map is spread across the table. The plan has already been discussed--the Federal Army knows that the bank will be a target, so there's no avoiding a high concentration of troops there. That being said, the response can be mitigated somewhat. Candy will supply dynamite, guns, fire-and-forget illusions and apparently superhuman speed and endurance to the remaining members of the cell here. They'll split into three groups and harass targets which could otherwise be brought against you by the Federales: the armory, the motor pool, and the airfield. In the meantime, you'll be attacking the bank directly. It will be heavily defended, as the Federales have had time to set up. Once Candy clears the roadblock, the heist will begin, and you'll need to make your way to the bank's sub-basement to open the vault and destroy Pair Dadeni.
Amaranthe	Amaranthe has been guarded in her demeanor, and perhaps unsettled or upset ever since she's started spending time in this version of Mexico City. She's currently wearing street clothes for blending in, black hair tied up into a bun for portability. "It's like I saw hundreds of monuments to gold plundered from the weak out there." she says, shaking her head. "But if newer and better things will be built, then the chance to build them comes first."
Sleek Shimmer	Sleek Shimmer's also present for the meeting, having talked extensively to go over the details of the situation to cover her unfamiliarity with the whole mess. The third key has been obtained and now it's time to locate, reveal, and destroy a mind control cauldron! She's currently in foxgirl form, having also adopted some of the local style. Her trio of tails drifts this way and that in agitation as she works to memorize the plan and what bank floor plans might be available... "Do they know someone has keys, could open vault? Station champion or two to protect it?" She points out. After all, passive defenses only get ou so far.
Gareth	Gareth, having only the basics of the operation in mind, is already turning the gears in her head as she tries to come up with ways to aid in the success of this operation. It's not too hard to sympathize with the desire to free the citizens of this gaudy (but weirdly appealing) city from their lich-president, although the idea of having the dwindling sympathizers risk dropping their numbers further is still hard for her to swallow. "If you must face them... Do whatever you can to survive. We're a hardy bunch, so don't be afraid to let them slip through if it means coming out of this alive." She tries reassuring the sympathizers with a hearty grin, dressed in a bright white-and-yellow t-shirt and shorts combo that's considerably more tourist than rebel flavored. "I'll lead the charge once the blockade is open, if nobody has any objections. I can take a hit or fifty, whether it'd be more useful for me to draw their attention away or absorb the brunt of their firepower!" Gareth offers eagerly, then taps her chin. "And even if I do get separated, I'll be able to catch up by the time you all reach the vault."
Rita Ma	Save for her blonde hair, Rita blends in remarkably well on the streets of Mexico City. The part of a bedraggled urchin girl naturally suits her. When she arrives in the secret base, it's in a worn and sun-faded dress that might have once been red, with a similarly well-loved jacket held close around her shoulders. Everyone familiar to her gets a bright greeting and a wave; everyone she's yet to be introduced to- including the individual cell members- gets an introduction and a handshake or a little bow. "I'm Rita Ma! It's good to meet you. I look forward to working together-" that sort of thing. The locals are unlikely to give her names. That's fine too. She studies the map and absorbs the plans in tight-browed silence. If she has any tactical thoughts, they aren't shared. Instead, to the locals who are to help them: "Thank you so much. You're being really brave, aren't you? I hope you all come back safe." The gravitas of the risk they're taking on is something she's familiar with.
Lilian Rook	Of course, Lilian can't help but prod at this just a little. Though she evinces no hostile intentions at any point in the meeting, and in fact, being tied into this situation is actually worse for her than it is for the Watch, her paranoid opsec focus (or, more realistically, her inner bully) demands that she say out loud at least once, "Now are you really certain about this? Showing me your hideout, names and faces in this cell, letting me overhear all of this; you do know that I'm still your enemy after today, right?" Seated on (rather than at) the edge of the table, Lilian's eyes rove around the circle of missing seats. A grim smirk gradually falls off her lips. "Well, I suppose I don't have much room to speak. We've all rather crossed that threshold, haven't we? That I'd be relying on you even a tenth as much as you'd dare to rely on me speaks to the seriousness of the situation all on its own." The tense and depressing mood of quiet desperation coming from these people has Lilian already sounding exhausted by the time she pulls away. Her bag thunks loudly into one of the empty chairs. The buckles pop, and when she reaches inside, a latch clicks, then-- Lilian has changed out of her street clothes and into her combat skin, just now finishing up the process of tying up her hair and moving that orichalcum pin into it. Light bulletproofing is attached to a handful of the hardpoints, hard cases full of god knows what to others. Pale light briefly cascades down the main lines when she flexes her fingers to test. "I refuse to pretend this is a 'bank heist'. Especially not simply because this entire escapade is against the law. Paladins or not . . ." She takes a deep breath. "Fourth Code: The laws of the Thirteen supersede all other laws. This is an emergency humanitarian/existential intervention. So you really don't have to do anything you aren't ready for." Lilian runs her fingers through her hair, leaning back and sighing at the ceiling. "The grass is always greener, right? That's why I wish it were as simple as just walking up the steps and shooting everyone who actually gets in the way. And that's why you people wish you actually could. Tell me I'm right."
Amaranthe	"I mean, 'Getting in my way' could mean someone who isn't one of their warriors panicking." Amaranthe says. It seems she's since taken a modern looking bow, a survival hatchet, a collapsible baton, and a knife from the hideout, "They've been lied to, they live and breathe the idea that bowing is the only way to live. I'd almost call it like magic, but... I keep on seeing it. Sometimes it keeps people from thinking that they can be cruel on a whim, but I also think there are too many places like this too." she continues, shaking her head.
Candy	"Almost certainly," says a cigar-smoking Nahua woman in her silver years to Sleek Shimmer, checking the action on a well-loved bolt action rifle. "To hear <little daddy> tell it, you've been very busy. And they didn't give those keys to just anyone. The president of the bank, that 'Director Benitez,'" she says, spitting contemptuously as Candy giggles at being called 'papito,' "And some fancy military governor." "Yeah," agrees Candy. He stays quiet on the matter of Governor Leblanc, however--the man had of course asked for the utmost secrecy regarding his plans, and ended up being one relatively decent person amidst very many delusional and downright disgusting people. "I'm Candy, by the way," he says to Amaranthe. "Good to meet you in person. Gareth's built like a brick shithouse, so you need a breather in there, you stick behind her, ah?" <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "'Both the blood of thy line, and the blood shed for thee'; I can't take responsibility for your people." The old lady laughs--at Rita and Lilian. "Girls, it's sweet of you to worry about us, but I've been fighting this shitheap country since I was your age. I'll die when I'm good and ready to, and not a moment before. The rest of these greenhorns know better than to die with me around--" She works the charging handle with an authoritative -click.- "Because they'd never hear the end of it, once I caught up with them." She hadn't given her name--standard procedure. But there is at least the sense that she's the leader of this cell, representative of its spirit. They've lost people, but they won't ever lose the fight inside them.
Candy	BGM: https://youtu.be/1akHK9uD7xM Scene Transition - Banco Nacional de Ciudad de Mexico With all preparations underway, Candy and the Watch cell depart, in staggered number--Candy is last, and seems to vanish before your eyes. It's a cloudless night, the dark sky speckled with stars, moonlight bathing the regal exterior of the bank. The whole block is swarming with soldiers. Mixed in with the beige-uniformed infantry, there are grey-uniformed Federales in armored cars, as well as regular infantry manning water-cooled machine gun emplacements, all set up to both blockade the entrypoints into the bank, and create a deadly crossfire for anyone attempting to storm it. The bank itself is a two-storey brick building, with a flat roof evidently characteristic of the time period. Gold-leaf trim gleams in the moonlight, accentuating both the lip of the roof and an unusual circular window that Lilian and perhaps Gareth may recognize as the classical 'magic circle,' embellished with moulding around the outside that conceals some very talented ward-work. In the distance, there's a buzzing. But it's probably not important--and even if it were, Candy gives 'the signal' the moment you're all ready, so there's not much time to dwell on it. 'The signal' comes shortly after a series of metallic clanks and a rapid sound like spooling cable play in press-and-fade fast-forward. One of the soldiers in the armored cars looks over the edge of the gunner's seat just in time to see the moonlight glint on a copper wire running beneath the car. Furrowing her brow, she waves over an infantryman, who, drum-barreled SMG slung over one shoulder by the strap, hustles over to investigate. His head cranes under the car, and there's a gasp, just as one of the soldiers on the opposite end of the street is noticing a cable wound 'round the corner of the building. Prone atop the roof of the opposite building, Candy presses down the handle of the plunger. The armored cars go up in massive fireballs, bent metal shrapnel flying through the soldiers and lighting up the night sky with panicked shouting. Commanding officers try to retain order, shouting above the panicked din as the rank and file run for cover in every direction. That would be the signal. Covering you with a different model of MG from the rooftop, Candy is able to send the rest of the regular infantry running for cover. There's a clear path to the front door--but getting there still means dealing with the soldiers who've caught on. The Federal Army MG emplacements open fire, blending in with retreating fire from infantry sidearms. Elsewhere in the city, a chorus of three other explosions ring out.
Sleek Shimmer	When cars go boom, fox goes ZOOMIES! A red fox to be exact. That's probably not at ALL what most soldiers would expect to see bolting towards... well, she's actually bolting towards one of the rooftop emplacements and going on the attack, aiming to blindside the soldiers there and give additional cover to anyone making a run for the bank! She enters a flying leap and spins around in midair while in fox-form... transforming mid-jump. "EIIIIIYAH!" She aims to come down HARD on what she hopes to be a flatfooted opponent and deliver a punishing divekick to the solar plexus and knock the wind straight out of them.
Gareth	"That could be a problem. Do we have any experts in handling magic wards among our crew?" Gareth asks as she holds up a pair of binoculars to her face, squinting a the circular window and noticing the peculiar molding and gold-leaf that even she can't ignore. Her head perks up at the buzzing, too, but there's not enough time for her to figure that out before the signal is given in the form of explosions. Candy's not lying when he says Gareth is built like a brick shithouse. She didn't look like she was throughout the meeting, but it becomes far more obvious once things start going loud. Gleaming silver armor materializes around her not unlike some kind of sped-up transformation sequence, and she even swings her arms out dramatically in time with an oversized lance and shield appearing in each hand. With her armor in place and her armaments readied, the knight turns to her allies with another bright smile. "I'll lead the way. With me, friends!" And then she's off, sprinting forward less like a person and more like a blast of wind as she charges right into and through the blockade, fiery explosions be damned. Rather than focusing on a single target, Gareth's charge takes her in a rapid zig-zagging pattern as she moves to body check and slam her shield into the infantry. She's focused less on trying to eliminate any one person and more about making herself as large and threatening-looking as possible by smacking everyone in her path even in passing.
Lilian Rook	Lilian heads out to the bank using the main street. Her decision to finally wear her Immunes equipment, after those last three capers, is no less than a declaration of intent in the first place; that this is a situation clearly worthy of immediate intervention under the domain of being an exigent threat to human life and safety, broadly. It means that she will proudly wear the trappings of her organization, confident that things like 'private property' and 'sovereign jurisdiction' laws are beneath factoring in, and thus she will make no efforts to hide her face, literally or metaphorically. If the Federales train guns on her, that's their cute little problem. Lilian puts a pair of fingers to the side of her neck. A trivial cantrip amplifies her voice to be heard clearly across the entire banking block. "Attention! All staff and personnel of Banco Nacional de Ciudad de Mexico, be advised--!" She doesn't finish, because Candy does exactly what Lilian was pretty sure he was going to, but had to at least hold her chin high and hope that maybe he wouldn't. Even if the Watch is going to charge in guns blazing and cut down everyone they see, she can't just run shoulder to shoulder with them. For multiple reasons. "Stand down!" Lilian calls out, twice as loud. She's stopped speaking English. "You are unable to handle this emergency situation! Abandon posts in a swift and orderly fashion! Hostility will be taken as a sign of exigent compromise, and your safety will not be guaranteed! Leave this to the professional!" This is, of course, a direct order. Specifically, a suggestion specifically meant to target any good jackboot's slavish deference to rank and inherent cowardly self-interest. And by suggestion, it is tacticaly meant 'Lilian is just outright mentally dominating soldiers into leading with her exponentially higher ego score'.
Rita Ma	Rita disappears similarly from her hiding spot the moment the signal's given. Even cloaked, a storm of bullets like that is dangerous; one can easily be hit without being aimed at. Instead of approaching head-on, she scales a building and leaps from rooftop to rooftop to rapidly flank around- first above the line of fire, then beside it. From there, she comes crashing in to the emplacement on the left. For a brief moment, Rita is visible- her clothes fluttering in the breeze, her foot meeting the gunner's chest to cushion her fall and drive him to the ground. Her cloaked tentacles lash out to slice the machine gun to pieces, as if it were neatly julienned by telekinesis. Then- hopefully- before any of the soldiers nearby can fire on her, she crouches down to jump and fades into invisibility once again. She lands upside-down on the lip of the bank this time, watching the battle play out from above. Taking out the machine guns is doable without having to hurt anybody too badly. We can't win the whole fight like that, but... the longer this goes on without anybody bleeding, the better. "Lilian being present" is the other reason she's hesitant to get her hands too dirty. But she doesn't articulate that to herself.
Amaranthe	Leaping out, Amaranthe's gaze immediately snaps to one of the trucks on the outside as she may as well have appeared on the hood in the blink of an eye for all its drivers are concerned. Making a quick hop to the upper hatch, she lets an arrow loose towards the central pole of the machine gun aiming to shoot clean through the water line as well.
Candy	The hard part of dealing with gun emplacements like these is getting to them. Shimmer finds that out on her approach--but the window in which the soldiers on the rooftop can actually fire upon her is very narrow, given her speed and the surprise attack. Once she's actually -upon- them, the gunner teams switch to submachine guns, unable to adjust the MG emplacements quickly enough to deal with her. While she's going to draw fire for the stunt, the soldiers are ill-prepared to deal with a fighter that charges in with wild abandon. She's able to knock her target--one of three atop the roof--clear. Rita, meanwhile, performs a similar attack, the MG on the left crumbling in myriad cross-sections just as the rear emplacement collapses from Amaranthe's arrow. Water trickles down the side of the building as the final remaining gun rolls comically out of the reach of the soldier who'd been manning it just moments before. This is before the age of widely accessible air conditioning, and so there's no entry point directly on the roof. However, there's a fire escape that gives access to windows on the offices of the top floor, as well as that unusual circular window on the building's front--it's all easily accessible to Shimmer and Rita, but theu'll need to move fast; the soldiers on the ground are regrouping. Amaranthe, meanwhile, thanks to Gareth and Lilian, has a clear path to the front door. Speaking of Gareth--she can plow through the infantry with ease, thanks to Shimmer, Amaranthe and Rita's handling of the rooftop MG emplacements and Candy's suppressive fire warning off one angle of attack. Small arms fire crashes into her shield as surely as the bodies of stunned soldiers do--she's drawing a lot of fire, just as she'd intended. When the soldiers find that the SMGs and sidearms won't cut it, explosives come out. The first few are tossed before Lilian's command is given, exploding near Gareth. <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Well, I'm a tiny bit relieved." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "This group seems to broadly have its murderous impulses under control." If the Watch does, the Federales don't, broadly speaking. The rank-and-file are cowed by her command. The furious sergeant left in control of these soldiers is not--and apparently has a bit of his own talent. "You idiots! She's the threat!" He howls, his attempt to mystically pry away her control. It falls flat, and he instead clutches a palm-sized booklet, eyes leveled on Lilian as his fingers trace cryptic algebra in the air. A golden spiral burns into place before him, narrowing down into a drill made of pure moonlight that he manages to get off before she inevitably dispatches him. "I got the ward! Get inside the bank before these assholes start sending more mages or armor!" The interior of the bank is no more welcoming. On the first floor and the second, tables have been overturned to serve as cover. As before, there are MGs set up to establish crossfires, but there are also soliders set up with that same model of pump-action shotgun that Candy often uses, loaded alternately with slugs and incendiary ammunition that seems to cause no issues at all with the weapons firing them. Each floor has an NCO present with some magical talent, attacking with that same sacred-geometry magic, turning manifested figures and shapes into weapons.
Sleek Shimmer	With a thunk and a scream, down goes one of the gunners. Shimmer wastes no time in closing the distance with the others on the rooftop to make the use of SMGs impractical... With a few more well-placed blows, the emplacement is disabled. She regards the heavy weapon emplacement for a moment, then... Then extends a hand towards the machine-gun... and a brilliant transluscent swirling vortex comes from that outstretched palm, tearing the machine-gun to glittering shreds and drawing all of the matter inwards. No more heavy machine-gun! And a moment later, a bright idea strikes her. The kind that only one who can understand things they absorb could think of. She knows a much more energy-efficient method than using the teleporter! Shimmer... leans forward off the building, limbs held backwards, palms facing the building... and is suddenly CATAPULTED forward by a rapid stream of explosions flowing from her hands! Forward.. and down, towards the entrance the group has opened! "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOUUUUUAH!" She's coming in at a maddening pace and only at the very last moment realizes there's no really great way to brake. So, bereft of air-brakes, she slams hard into the bank floor and bounces, tumbling.. and taking a hell of a spray of the crossfire the whole while, unable to dodge or do much of anything to mitigate the hailstorm of bullets that rip into her clothes and the flesh underneath. Blood splatters everywhere in her wake as she tumbles and the foxgirl howls in pain... But just as quickly she flips to her feet and lets loose a ferocious kiai. In a flash, the wounds she just suffered largely heal, bullets just expelled from her body as light flows from torn flesh and forms new flesh. A second spray of gunfire comes her way, but this time - this time the bullets hit...?! The form of Shimmer fades away after a half-dozen bullets and two shotgun rounds go straight through it. Then she's upon the gunmen from behind. She leaps up and clasps one by the shoulders while flipping up and over... using the momentum to simply hoist the gunman off his feet and hurl him as if shot from a sling towards his fellows. But she doesn't wait for him to impact. Instead she leaps and delivers a brutal double kick that delivers further acceleration!
Gareth	Spotting the grenades coming her way, Gareth makes no move to avid them despite her blistering speed. No, she actually goes right for them with her shield braced in front of her as she leaps forward. The first gets pinned between the ground and her shield to minimize the overall explosive power that might reach her allies behind her, and that silver armor weathers the blast from the next several. "We mean your little harm, soldiers! It is as the imposing lady said: Cooperate, and you will live to see your families again! Otherwise, even I can't guarantee your safety!" She shouts towards the Federales while hearing Candy's call to press onwards, and Gareth actually brings her lance up to press against the side of her shield as she turns towards the bank entrance. "Also, please step aside! If you don't, you'll probably die!" Gareth warns as her next sprint takes her towards the bank, her lance glowing ominously as mana starts to gather inside the cartridges loaded around the handle and tip. Spotting the more important-looking NCOs past that incoming gunfire, she jukes sideways towards one of those overturned tables as if looking like she's going to ram through it. Unlike before, Gareth actually does try to ram through and knock those tables around to take out those hiding behind them and their cover. Her goal: Creating more havoc and drawing more attention to herself so her allies can get a clearer shot at the NCOs.
Amaranthe	Charging up somewhat blindly, Amaranthe is greeted by yet another hail of bullets leading to a quick dive for cover behind an ornamental pillar. Not fully effective at evading, however, the bullet wounds she sustained still visibly close as the bloody pieces of metal fall out onto the floor. Darting out, she offhandedly tosses her bow up where it lodges a few inches into the ceiling. Now with her hands free, she grabs one of the cover desks and swings it by the narrow end like a giant fan to try to catch a number of the defenders along the midsection.
Rita Ma	Unless Gareth can beat her to it, Rita's the first through the doors as the gunfire drizzles to a stop. They swing open dramatically, framing- absolutely nothing, of course. But it's a bottleneck, and bottlenecks are tough on people like her. She sprints low across the floor and tacks to the side as sharply as she can, but a stray bullet still clips her. Seemingly empty space stifles a yelp, drowned out by the gunfire, but does not bleed. It'll bruise later. Rita, invisibly, sprints along the first floor's left wall. A perfectly lifelike decoy of her sprints along the right, drawing fire in the opposite direction. It disintegrates as it reaches the end of the room, just in time for her to kick off and slam into the NCO at the end of the hallway. She's visible for just a moment, not quite long enough for the soldiers to turn around and acquire her. While she is, iron chains simply materialize from thin air to bind his arms- no more magic gestures. She keeps moving, intent on staying ahead of the rolling chaos that marks her teammates' advance. The lower the lead-to-air ratio, the more effective Rita can be. They'll have guns pointed at the staircase up, and she's learned her lesson about chokepoints- so Rita emerges onto the second story through the floor, instead, lunging through the solid surface in ghostly-indigo form right into the midst of the soldiers above. A low sweep with the flat edge of her tentacles sends everyone within reach sprawling onto the floor; then she ducks behind a desk for cover before the other soldiers can fire on her, and invisibly peeks the edge to try and visually acquire the second NCO. Hopefully the cover holds out.
Lilian Rook	"Frankly, how dare you." Lilian replies to the federal officer. She's still speaking Ulster Gaelic, but hasn't really bothered to sauce that one up; it's just habit. "I am here well within my capacities as a Chevalier of the Paladins and an Officer Commander of the Immunes, in response to an exigent threat situation well outside your pay class. You're obstructing justice, Second Sergeant Rivera. Move aside." Her eyes roll when he starts casting magic in her face. "Imbecile. Your squad isn't covering you. You're wide open." Lilian 'teleports' right past him, invisible force twisting deep into his diaphram, kidneys, throat, and groin; breaking a rib and collarbone and setting off three different incapacitation reflexes at once. "See? Don't get so full of yourself. Cops really are the same everywhere, aren't they?" Lilian turns and grabs hold of him before he'll collapse, and then begins rapidly scanning his mind in his debilitated state for information regarding the basement, and if if happens to be relevant at all, the warding. Regardless, she then tosses him aside and uses the cleared space outside to begin scanning the spiral of potential futures that connect her to the cauldron, and their variable forks involving inconvenience and disaster. Probabilistically, she'll be there in-person in under five minutes, and so scouting out direct paths to it, and learning the obtuse secrets and nasty surprises ahead of time, is fairly easy to accomplish via brute force. Once she has specific directions --landmarks, floor plan, passwords, whatever-- she radios them along to Rita.
Candy	A hail of gunfire chases the decoy of Rita. The NCO, using the same magical discipline as the one outside, opens fire with a service pistol in a rather unconventional form of panic fire--shimmering white 'lenses' appear before the nine-millimeter. The bullets are increased in size and velocity as they pass through each, turning the handgun projectiles into the equivalent of a high-powered rifle. He is irritatingly good at keeping cover between himself and the invisible Rita, through sheer blind paranoia. Until Gareth and Amaranthe completely obviate the use of -any- cover on the first floor. Having taken cover behind the polished table untouched by the pillar lady, the NCO is forced to flee, swearing and scrambling to his feet, as Gareth's spear shatters it to splinters. His next choice is picked up overhead by a rapidly regenerating Amaranthe, and he falls flat in an effort to scramble away in fear. Out in the open, like that, with no places left to hide, he is easily bound up. It's a good thing Candy is outside keeping the reinforcements on their feet--he might be jealous if he saw. r Shimmer, recovering from her unfortunate entrance, clears the teller booths with ease, hurling the unsuspecting soldier taking cover behind them all the way across the room, into an MG team, sending the weapon and the soldiers manning it tumbling over into a painful, winded heap--when she delivers that extra bit, the lot of them and the weapon are lifted up, right into the path of Amaranthe. Her improvised attack hits the soldiers, airborne and otherwise, like a truck. An expensive, polished imported table is used in perhaps the most just way it ever will be, sending weapons and Federales flying across the once pristine lobby. Cordons entangle, a gaudy marble statue is overturned, and there is a heap of unconscious men and women strewn about the floor. Outside, Candy's breaking time over his knee. As Lilian handles Rivera, soldiers are dropping like flies in time with a cacophony of wooden impacts. Lilian learns that the warding was partially disabled by the soldiers to allow their mages to operate (and with Candy's earlier assurance he'd handled it), she also learns what Rivera knows about the basement--more on that later. There is one potential disaster looming--the team assigned to the motor pool couldn't destroy it before five armored units, under the command of an experienced officer, escaped to reinforce the soldiers. They're en route, and while they're slow, the firepower they can bring to bear will be ruinous if the cauldron isn't destroyed by the time they arrive. Five minutes will be enough time, but only just. That buzzing sound is getting louder--it's nothing to do with her vision. It's coming from the air. Just visible on the horizon. At the rate at which that speck grows larger, it ought to be here within five minutes. Lilian's premonition reveals an inconvenience -- one that will require caution and teamwork to overcome. Heading down the stairs leads not only into a deadly choke with a firing team on the opposite end, but the ancillary vaults on either side of this hallway are loaded with would-be-victims of the Cauldron, yet to be killed. Political prisoners, kidnapped Nahua, small-time criminals brought in on trumped-up charges. Not only is the final obstacle the most dangerous, it will also require the most care and coordination.
Sleek Shimmer	With this wave of the soldiers downed, Shimmer breaks into another dash. She definitely knows the basement is key to everything! She dives for the stairs after Lilian....quite literally, dives. Head-first. Instead of walking like a normal person. This might involve wall-jumping to reverse course or even grinding down handrails on her boots if there's multiple flights. SHe bursts out into the hallway -- And is immediately peppered with bullets again. This time though she's ready. An earthy brown aura flares up around her body and many of them just crumple on impact or ricochet having lost much of their velocity. ONly about half break her skin and this time they don't go nearly as deep. But as before with a powerful breath she expels them all from her body and mends the damage, leaving her breathing heavily. "Starting to HATE guns." Seeing that this situation seriously calls for bringing down a lot of people without hurting hostages... Shimmer sucks in a breath and focuses. Her hair fills in with a new color, turning dark red along with the outer layer of her aura. At the same time her eyes turn dark grey. Dust swirls into an outstretched hand then ignites into a molten blaze of strange, amorphous starfire. She reaches out and aims here, there and everywhere at the firing teams, launching what looks to be blazing white-grey-blue star-flame rays which... Don't actually burn anything. Instead, they drastically sap the will to fight, harm... well, any kind of violence really. Along with just being pure exhaustion in the form of a beam. "STAR-FLAME MIND-SWORD!"
Lilian Rook	Lilian is as clear as can be over the radio. Her biggest concern is the civilians in the basement; she can't crack open all those enormous bank vaults, move that many people so far out of the way, and still deal with the cauldron and exfiltrate, on an objective five minute timeframe. It's too many layers of time-consuming inconvenience. Of course she isn't worried particularly for herself by the arrival of the armoured column --it'll never catch up to her-- but 'everyone else' is actually her concern right now, and the bank certainly won't survive it if the Federales are ordered to cut their losses. Having already precognitively located the main chokepoint in the basement, Lilian gives directions, and makes her specific requests, on something of a very short delay. Specifically so that she can 'teleport', again, straight down, right behind the main firing choke. One grenade set off close to no one in particular, followed by a few swift and brutal beatings in the lingering smoke, should prime the others to follow her quickly. From there, she intends to make a straight beeline towards the main safe, where the cauldron itself awaits. She gives Candelario the signal to dynamite the window-warding up at the top level if the main vault looks too reticent because of it; this all being geometry-based South American magic theft, she assumes that should be sufficient. Trusting the others to get the civilians out behind her, Lilian's goal is to jump into the main vault if possible, and if not immediately so, carve her way in with a temporal disjoint or ten aimed to precisely occur within the vault's interior and rear locking mechanisms, shredding apart the merely mechanical main cylinders and tracks sandwhiched between layers of better protection.
Gareth	With the initial wave inside the bank cleared, Gareth sees a clear enough path towards the cauldron. She launches another table aside with a forceful kick to clear a path, then raises her shield in a broad wave that also serves the purpose of battering an explosive away from herself. "This way! We have to move quickly, but don't expose yourselves too much to their weapons! That's my job." She boasts with a hearty laugh and shout while sparing a moment to eye the solid blue light swirling around her lance, and then she bolts forward once again. Gareth's specialty is holding and advancing right through choke points, after all, and she's eager to prove herself as a plan is put together. Eventually, Gareth advances straight on as she usually does, howling and swinging her glowing lance overhead to try and draw as much of that fire towards herself to let her allies get a leg up on handling the hostage situation. Her armor, shield, and small yet sturdy frame let her wade into that oncoming cloud of bullets, rattling noisily with all those impacts only managing to draw small streaks of blood through the knight's defensive wall. Despite the notable drop in her magical energy from pushing through all of that, however, Gareth's advance doesn't actually slow down. "If you're hoping to slow me down, you'd best focus your fire before my lance reaches you!" Another boast, another shout, and the knight breaks into another sprint with her lance and shield aimed at that central firing team. The back of the lance flares briefly, and a beam nearly as large as Gareth's shield surges right at that team. It's a rather straightforward attack not unlike the knight herself, and it seems to be moving even faster as Gareth continues running forward while firing it the entire time despite such a beam implying that she should be getting pushed back by it.
Rita Ma	Rita, for once, hangs back when the door begins to open. For her friends, she has a very simple request: "Please don't look behind you until I say so. Just... as a favor, to me. Okay?" Assuming they don't look, they can still see a soft radiant white light glowing from somewhere behind them, and hear hair-raising wet slithering. The soldiers in front of them can see something different: Rita's human guise comes undone like a mummy's wrappings, revealing the mutated girl beneath. Those wrappings slide along the walls, twisting, forking, and growing forward like the branches of a tree. All the while they glow from within. Rita makes a soft noise of exertion; something whined through gritted teeth. That inner glow intensifies for a moment, becoming almost blinding- and when it fades, pale tentacle-flesh completely covers the walls of the basement, save for the main vault at the very back. It twists and spirals in geometrical patterns, twining around itself in a complex weave like a mat of ivy clinging to brick. It is half a foot thick and as durable as steel. Come what may, the hostages in the sub-vaults are insulated from harm. Rita detaches from the wall-clinging tentacles with an audible ripping noise, re-weaves her disguise, and promptly collapses into a sitting position. "You can look now," she murmurs over the fighting, but it's hard to hear her. Only when the last soldier is subdued do the wall-wrappings crumble into chalky dust, coating the floor with powder. She still looks exhausted.
Candy	Time is running out. Lilian rushes down the stairs, really cuts straight down via her 'teleport.' Her attack is quick and decisive, leaving the firing team bloodied and bruised--easy pray for Shimmer's technique, which saps what little strength they had and virtually all will to fight. Some token resistance had been offered, beforehand, in retaliation for Gareth's lasers. It invariably ended up broken upon Gareth's shield, Rita's walls, or else failing to overcome Amaranthe's regenerative factor. That just leaves the vaults. The main vault presents no problem, once Candy shatters the window-ward--but the heavy chest within which Pair Dadeni is stored has been hardened to a ridiculous, stubborn degree. A powerful [wish] was made to protect it. Luckily, its three locks are easily opened with the keys the Watch has spent the past month gathering. The cauldron itself is a masterful work of reconstruction. The only reason it doesn't perform as it originally did is likely because the reconstruction was done with the detached understanding of a historian, rather than the original intent of the giants who are said to have made it. Much like its original incarnation, the cauldron is easily destroyed by perverting its purpose; the introduction of living matter within it, even a drop of blood, is enough of a paradox to shatter it once more to pieces. From there, all that needs doing is gathering those pieces up and ensuring that they're far from the reach of anyone with the mind to use the cauldron in such a way again. Behind those walls Rita's made, there is the sound of rapid shuffling. Candy's doing his level best--distributing those cards of his, each keyed to the same safe place the Watch cell took off to after their mission was done. He's working at a blistering pace, but even someone who can cheat like him can only bend things so far. Time still passes in the in-between. The prisoners are safe. All that remains is to see yourselves out.
Candy	Faintly, above the din of the chaotic night, a melody, carried on the wind, as if by distant loudspeaker. Outside, as you depart the bank into a street-made-warzone, five heavy-duty diesel engines rumble, growing steadily louder. But there is something else mingled in with them, that rises above even the gradually louder buzzing. Stomping. It wasn't a tank column. Humanoid mechanized infantry stomps through the city, twin exhaust pipes rising from the shoulders and belching black smoke into the night sky, as side-mounted searchlights swivel through the city, in search of targets. As they pass between buildings, each easily eight meters tall, their swiveling lights reveal the shapes of massive, high-powered rifles carried by each walker. They're running a dispersal pattern. Trying to sweep the city for you. But there's one development they hadn't accounted for--the buzzing. It can't have been anything other than an airship, now that it's this close. The music piped in from the loudspeakers reaches a crescendo. Moonlight reflects from its rigid exterior, revealing a latticed skyhook roughly midship--and from it, there hangs a biplane. The crane looses three planes in this fashion. Pilots in leather caps and aviation goggles drive the walkers into town with concentrated bursts of mounted machine gun fire. Two more follow suit--bombers that venture deeper into the city, their payloads illuminating the newly-made wreckage of an anti-air emplacement along the already-burning airfield. The Hammurabi's sky-crane launches one more vessel. The red-streaked personal walker of Ignace Leblanc, polished to a gleaming silver sheen, falls upon the command unit searching the streets for the Watch. Leblanc's rifle, fixed with a superheated bayonet, is stabbed through the cockpit of the trampled walker in one seamless motion, before it is drawn up, viscera steaming off of the blade. Leblanc has it shouldered and fired twice, the mech's clunky frame a work of art with him in the cockpit. Two bullets longer and thicker than human spines. Two more walkers, felled, before the remaining two realize what's happened. It may dawn on you, as the parasite fighters from the Hammurabi make another pass over the mechanized infantry to support their commander--as the Hammurabi's cannons hammer the Federal Army's installations without so much as glancing towards any residential districts: he's probably giving you the best chance to skip town that you're going to get this evening. Leblanc's face, illuminated by shimmering liquid scry-screens, is nothing but placid calm. Peeking from behind the screens, visible between their ripples, pinned to the armored interior of the cockpit, is a collage of crayon drawings.