3451/Step one:Never have your hand in the cookie jar.

Step one:Never have your hand in the cookie jar.
Date of Scene:	20 September 2020
Location:	Times Square
Synopsis:	A group of idio...criminals try to rob a record store. Emphasis on try. Emphasis on fail. Mania and Orphan are both waiting outside when they emerge.
Cast of Characters:	Wilson Fisk, Cassandra Cain, Andi Benton

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Wilson Fisk has posed:
11 pm. Time Square.

Robbing ain't easy, that's what they told Jimmy Two-Timer, brand new to the crew so, that's why he brought Jackie O'Neill and Sammie "Swinger" Meredith. Waiting in the car, for the gateway is Fast Timer, good driver, dumb as a box of rocks---his crew, given to him today by his uncle, told to make a profit, do right. Family is a beautiful thing; ya gotta stand by em.

Jimmy Two-Timer is 25 years old, but with a life of lousy drinking and bad habits, looks pushing 35. His grey beard touches his chest; his hair is patchy bald spots, yellow teeth, and well that overly tight shirt, he thinks he is buff and sexy, his glasses cheap sunglasses made to look good, for knockoff Gucci, just like his shoes.

Jackie O'Neill short buff with a nasty chip on his right and left shoulder, been in and out for busting heads. He is wearing a leather biker joker, with the words Blood Bath on its back, with a smashed in skull. A pair of tight jeans and a combat boots, his head is shaved bald, his eyes a deep green, leaning against the record store's wall.

Swinger is a chick with a large baseball over her shoulder, dressed simple jeans and a t-shirt; she seems to be the skilled lookout, her eyes moving over the street, as they are in the alley, waiting for the right moment to move into the back. That bright purple gym, between her lips blowing bubbles, her hair is tight in ponytail bright purple, as she is waiting for the signal to get to smashing in that door.

BMW older model, behind it sits a nerdy-looking black kid, reading a comic waiting for them to rush out, till then he has nerdcore on the speakers, listening to lords of the rhymes, from a far off land. Rap about Tolkin, could he get nerdier, as he shoves back his horn-rimmed glasses, wearing a silver surfer shirt, and a pair of loose jeans. His hand is resting on the key to start up the engine, but for now, he chilled, with book in hand, something called the DMZ.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Orphan waits for the kid to turn the page of his book, idly checking out what he's doing from nearby. She's in a shadow by the car, glancing into the mirror to keep an eye on him while she listens to the others; no real reason to pre-emptively interrupt. A twist of her water container and she drinks deeply, not particularly in a rush.

She has on her normal: no mask, her hoodie pulled up to shroud her face enough to keep her from shining like a big chinese-toned lamp in the dark. Still, they're taking so damn long to get about it. With the big guy, the short guy, the bat girl, that driver, it's really pretty chill. Wonder if they'd mind if I ordered them pizza.

Well, she'd like to do that, but it's probably going to devolve into punching soon. Ah well, she yawns and stretches. Time to get their attention I suppose.

She taps her headset, letting the team know that she's on a job, then massages out a crick in her neck. Oh come on guys, break something so it's worth the time. Can't even arrest you yet.

Andi Benton has posed:
Andi let her father know she was going to be out for a while. She still hasn't exactly filled him in on everything. How would he take it? Would he grasp the concept that his daughter, who had been as mundane as can be aside from her choices in fashion and looks, now had an alien entity as part of her? Hard to say. Hence, her silence, her efforts to keep it under wraps. One day, however...

This is how Mania ended up in Times Square, atop one of the buildings overlooking the hustle and bustle of one of New York City's prime meeting grounds for all sorts of people. If anything, it might be /too/ busy for someone like her, but that /other/ side of her is nothing but curious. It pays attention to everything, and in a place like this that threatens a bit of sensory overload. The people below are like ants, only larger. They weave in and out of pathways and crosswalks, the area still busy even approaching midnight.

The black-clad..thing..leans a bit further out from the edge of the building, sticking to it in an unnatural way. Solid white eyes pass over the BMW near the record store. The music just makes it to her, through the white noise occasionally interrupted by a car horn or a shout. Her head tilts, leading to her squinting at what she sees.

Wilson Fisk has posed:
A nod from Two-Timer and it is off to the races, as he steps back from the door, as Swinger is coming up, but she is too slow. Jackie runs as the door leaping into the air, one short little rage ball, as he kicks it with both feet, the door is swinging open wide, no alarm. They had been smart enough to pay the night worker to forget to turn it on, of course, Jackie rolling into the room. The others follow, as the car starts up with a quiet little flick of the key, it's showtime.

Too bad, they didn't plan that next bit as well as the alarm, stumbling in with hands reaching to grab vinyl, not thinking, grabbing, shoving it into sacks, trying to loot it all, the cash register not yet hit, that was suppose to be last. As they work in the dark store, it is one room store, older man's life savings keeping it up, but they ebayed this shit, and it looked like it was a mint, some of these records sold for a few thousand, but they would deal with the selling when it was time, got a buyer all lined up!

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Whelp. That's that. The little shadow that's been, well, shadowing, dusts off her hands and stands up. She quickly pops the door on the BMW, leaning inside, where the little guy who plans to help them get away finds himself not alone in the car. It might have gone better if he'd been paying attention, but the tiny devil that slips inside with him is a close-range specialist.

So, unless he's got magic or a bazooka he's probably pretty screwed. Cassandra knows they'll be right out, and once they've left they'll come to the car. Of course, not everyone may have the same theory on dealing with the crew.

Andi Benton has posed:
A glimpse of motion from beside the car, someone else there moving inside it to join the driver. Who? And why? It becomes secondary to the trio that snuck in through the alley. From her vantage point, Mania can see it's a record store. That hits a little too close to home, and if the collection in there is even halfway decent, that's an underrated haul they could be sitting on.

Mania drops down to the same alley, using cover to get closer to the shop itself. The BMW gets a passing glance, then she heads in the direction of the door the others used. If they delay at all, she might be able to get inside in time. The element of surprise can be useful.

Wilson Fisk has posed:
The haul is over, as they are filled the bags, rushing back into the alley as they are heading towards the alley. But left behind to finish the job is Swinger is bashing in that cash register, as it pops open as she is fisting the money into her jeans' back. She, too, is running after the others, ready to get pounced or not going for the car.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
The boy in the car, since the guy couldn't be more than twenty if he's a day, sits with his eyes closed. The side door is cracked open and he sits, hands on the wheel, waiting for the group to come out. Nothing untoward, the whole situation is that of him waiting for them to arrive.

Of course the woman coming from above would see the other, the unknown other, hiding behind the bumper. She's got empty hands, the other. A trap laid, waiting for the alleydwellers to show their faces. The smashing inside makes her frown though. This was not supposed to end up costing the old man a lot. She hopes she can keep them from dropping the bags; that stuff is fragile.

Then she sees the shadows move, and freezes. Something else is out there. She gets a hint of predator, and listens fiercely. What...is that?

Not a sighting, just a thought. Something is there.

Andi Benton has posed:
Sometimes, serendipity is a very real thing. The thieves must have cased the place before, knowing exactly where to go for their intended score. Before she can even use the same way in that they did, the door is opening back up to let them out. What they see is probably unlike anything they've ever dealt with before: a figure all in black, feminine enough, but without any sign of an actual face. Just overly large, slanted white eyes, and a big spider of some kind dominating her torso, front and back.

When Mania speaks, there is a sort of eerie duality to her voice, like two blending together as one, one part indeed feminine, the other rougher, dangerous. "We're pretty sure you didn't pay for those, and they're not even open. Put them back, before we make you." She steps closer, and there's enough light to see her fingers end in some kind of claws. The eyes have narrowed, little more than threatening slits.

Wilson Fisk has posed:
Jimmy Two-Timer is in the lead, moving out of the alley with his bag swinging back and forth as he does a quick two-step moving along the street, as he throws his hand forward as he pivots quickly on his back foot.

The little swinger that could Jackie is coming up two bags dragging them, he is the best, the strongest, and he will bring in the most lot, because he needs to prove himself to himself.

The baseball wielding Sammie is still picking up her bag now, as she is making for the door, into the alley out the back. Her hand is quickly swinging that bat in an arc, as if she is hitting a home run."GOING GOING GONE!" Her voice is sexually laced, as she is moving with the others towards the car.

Than they hear that voice, panic fear, as they drop the goodies, as each of them breaks off into a rush forward now, not the fighting type oh no, they pick stores at night with no security. Sammie runs into the shop, the other two men running forward, she is bashing through the window, leaping out bleed dripping from her hands. The bat is lying on the back alley, left next to all that loot.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
The absolute silence out front is shattered by the sounds in the night. Breaking glass, people in fear. She's used to it but it still messes with the flow of things, and tells her that whatever is in the night is scarier than she is. Orphan, just a quiet little martial artist, doesn't really focus on fear as her work tactics. That's the boss' thing.

She tenses, uncertain if she should deal with the lady in the window, or go save the guys inside from whatever's going on. She sighs, then quickly steps to the window and reaches in, numbing baseball girl's hands with a pressure grip. She can still get out but it'll be slower. Then she backs up, runs, and leaps through that same window to INSIDE.

Glass shatters again, and she slides to a stop inside. To try and confront whatever's attacking the robbers.

Andi Benton has posed:
An internal grimace follows on the part of the thing with the spider motif. Hopefully none of those records shattered, and she wasn't fast enough to prevent them from landing the way they did.

//They are running, Andi.//
<<I can see that.>>
//Shall we play with them?//
<<Yes, let's.>>

All of that takes place within Mania's own head, an internal conversation between symbiote and girl. They did the right thing in trying to run, but what they didn't know is what she's capable of. A demonstration is in order.

First, a line of strange webbing is fired off at the one furthest from her, entangling his legs enough that he ought to fall down partly in the alley, partly out of it, just in time for anyone who happens to see it also catching a glimpse of him being dragged back into the shadows.

Next, the other arm shifts around into a mass of writhing tendrils, darting out to catch the second guy by the head and pull him back as well.

Approaching them, she shakes her head. "Not even going to say hi? We think you're rude. Very rude."

The sound of breaking glass from a nearby window is probably connected, but currently left alone.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
There's no real response from the ones that Mania has ...let's call it 'dealt with' for publicity's sake. Gibbering leads to passing out, and they simply were not prepared by their family events to deal with a monster in the night. The two men, like the guy in the car, are officially no longer a threat. Out of it, the best they've got left is the ability to not hurt themselves as they lay still in the night.

The door behind them does slam open again though, the shadow from earlier appearing with a smoothness that staggers belief. Eyes in the shadow of that hood look out at the situation, and ...pause. As the body language of her unwitting partner tells Cassandra of all kinds of things. She doesn't lower her guard, oh no. Not with two languages coursing out of one body.

Andi Benton has posed:
"...no fun." Mania's eyes droop when not one, but /both/ of them pass out. To be fair, that could have been her a few months ago.

There's not much else to do but web them up a little further. The cops could be called to deal with them, but the webs themselves will only last about an hour before weakening and dissolving. It leaves her time to have a closer look at the records they were about to escape with. Take them in, or leave them there as evidence?

Leave them, for now. She's moving to see what's going on with that window and the commotion there.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
The last bad-guy of sorts, the girl who had the bat, is just now managing to get out the window. She was not expecting all of this either, and the whole event has her cursing in fluent italian. She might not be Italian, but she's got some schooling under her belt. Or friends, probably the friends thing.

Either way she manages to finally, finally get out the window. Free! "Made it!" she says, starting to run, and finds herself face-to-face with....Mania.

"Gack!" she says, as rude as the others, and drops against the wall, covering her face with her arms. Sheesh.

Cassandra, the one who just came out from inside, walks up behind Mania. She pauses and frowns. Then taps Mania on the shoulder with a fingertip.

You know, if she can.

Andi Benton has posed:
Mania's demeanor seems to..brighten? At the sight of the woman who nearly bumps into her before retreating to the wall, she taunts, "Ah, maybe one of you will stay awake long enough for us to--" Only, she cuts off at the cowering, something else providing a sudden distraction.

Just as Cassandra is reaching out toward her, she starts to turn that way. The faceless visage leads to a stare, a tilt of the head upward to account for the slight difference in height. "Are you one of them? We are getting bored with none of them talking." Arms cross. This thing, whatever it is, actually seems to have spiky protrusions from various places.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
We. The two talking to her make her pause again, Orphan's body shifting to slip back. Just out of arm's reach, she is clearly not falling asleep in terror. But she is just as clearly not holding any weapons, drugs, merchandise, or anything else. The problem is, unfortunately, she's getting all kinds of mixed signals from Mania. She's body reading, but she's not hearing English...

So she can't even truly answer a question she's not hearing. She watches the arms move, the body shift, and isn't sure if it's a threat or not. It feels like one, so she shifts back and to one side, preparing to move.

Boy it'd be nice if she spoke words at times.

Andi Benton has posed:
Mania's body language is a mixture of things: predatory, curious, confused, annoyed. It's reflected in that dual voice, that mix of the normal and anything but.

The slits that pass for eyes shift further, one smaller, one larger, simulating the rise of a brow. Lacking anything in the way of a nose, ears, but especially a mouth, being able to see a frown or any other twist of the lips is left unable to be made out.

"We 'saw' you behind us," she explains, but she clearly had no eyes in the back of her head. Perhaps a sixth sense of some kind? Then comes a realization. "You are not with them. You were trying to stop them."

//What is going on, Andi? Why does nobody talk?//
<<If I knew, I'd tell you. Just be ready for anything.>>

That's easy to say, less easy to actually do with things as unknown as they are. Something about this other girl is...hard to place, but she feels like someone who ought to be watched.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
The woman in the hood looks out. She does not talk, but it's hardly her fault. She doesn't have words to use, and isn't sure what to say if she did. So what Mania is faced with is her worst nightmare: someone who not only won't talk, they can't.

While she is hard to place, she is simply normal. Nothing in her is broken, super, quicker than it should be. So how is she so...balanced? It's like watching a picture, not someone real. And when she raises her hand to point to the woman against the wall, she seems to mean something. The shake of her head is a warning. But not a threat, the body is clear on that. And then she turns and runs, leaving mania to them. So quiet, her footsteps don't echo.

And moments later she's gone, a shadow turning a corner and away.

Andi Benton has posed:
People are fast to report disturbances in the force. Already, a few sirens can be heard just blocks away. That's not something Mania has any plans to be around for.

"Fine. Whatever." She shifts her arms around, the one having already reformed to what it ought to look like, just so she can spread them upward in frustration prior to turning at the gesture. A glance behind again as Cass bolts for reasons only she knows, and Mania turns her attention back to the woman who'd been carrying that bat.

She gets webbed up as well, then Mania casts a line upward to stick to the side of a building, using it to swing out of Times Square like a certain webslinger would.

The police should be able to figure out what happened here.