[h2][color=fff200]Bank Lobby[/color][/h2]
Mitchell entered the bank through the front doors, humming a vague, jazzy tune. He wore his ordinary clothing - blue jeans, a pale shirt, and a dark grey jacket - and had a backpack slung over one shoulder. As his attire would indicate, he came to the bank straight from school, intending to make a quick withdrawal before heading home. He joined the short line in front of the ATM, thinking about the recent changes in his life as he waited.

Yesterday had been one of the afternoons when he volunteered to transport emergency medical technicians to emergencies - when he donned the mask of Gateway and spent a few hours making portals between the emergency room and various 911 callers. The first call they'd had was from a woman whose husband suffered a heart attack. Fortunately, it had occured in a neighborhood he used to live in, so Mitch had been able to make a portal directly to the street in front of the caller's house. He'd felt like something of an interloper among the EMTs, standing around uselessly in his costume while they carried an unconscious man onto a stretcher and into the ER, but the words of gratitude he received after his shift convinced him otherwise. According to a physician, the man had been in cardiac arrest - if the paramedics had arrived just a few minutes later, as they certainly would have if they traveled by ambulance rather than instantaneous portal, he would have been dead. The knowledge that Mitch had saved a life still burned warmly in his heart, and his smile grew wider as he recalled it. It made him wonder how much else he could do with his power - what untapped potential did he have? He knew that there were more ways he could help, if only he could think of them.

While he'd been absorbed in thought, the line had moved forward. [color=00a651]"Sorry,"[/color] he murmured softly to the person waiting behind him, and stepped towards the ATM. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a figure in all black, with an ornate mask - another cape? The figure cut in front of a line to speak to a bank teller, and the two left the lobby area together. Mitch did the mental equivalent of a shrug; it was probably none of his business. He stifled a small yawn as he fumbled for the debit card in his wallet. While volunteering with the EMTs was rewarding, it was also exhausting, and the hours of sleep he'd had last night didn't feel like nearly enough recovery time. 

At that moment, alarms sounded throughout the bank. Mitch hastily put his belongings away and looked around for signs of the disturbance, but the only people in the lobby were other civilians. They were agitated by the alarm and the lockdown, and he could hear fragments of their conversations: "Hey, what's going on?" "Ohmigosh, is the bank being robbed?"

Mitch recalled the person in the black clothing. It seemed like too much of a coincidence for the alarm to have sounded mere minutes after someone in a black mask entered the bank, and his curiosity compelled him to investigate. Prudence, however, dictated that he should remain in the lobby with the rest of the civilians. Mitch didn't have combat experience and never intended to gain any; he'd probably just get in the way of the trained officials whose job it was to deal with these things. Nonetheless, his thoughts turned towards the mask and taser hidden away in his backpack, and he felt the urge to fight, to use his power for destruction instead of preservation. Mitch resisted the temptation and hoped that circumstances wouldn't force his hand.