[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/coxzkhk.png[/img]

[h2]Baby Steps[/h2][/center]

Milling about on the busy afternoon street, the teeming hordes of pedestrians moved in a seemingly mindless wave, the fast overtaking the slow, subsuming them in a mostly peaceful manner. In this grand display of the societal cogs in motion, one could almost miss the ramshackle van parked in front of the Hendleman Park Bank, its illegally-tinted windows hiding a certain cog very much out of sync with the machinery of normalcy.

"Seriously man, this won't end well."

Cheesy Peake held firm that his friend had gone bonkers, dressing up like a fool and planning schemes like a cartoon character. That didn't stop him from calling dibs on a share of the profits as a getaway driver of course.

[color=LightSlateGray]"Hush, what's the time?"[/color]

Peake reported back, 3:45 sharp just as Dirk so meticulously planned. His 'astute research' guaranteed that it would be the optimal time, but of course we could seldom trust the scientific methods of a man who called himself Bonefist. Wordlessly, Dirk made a vague military signal with his hands that was interpreted to mean Peake should be on the look-out, and hopped out of the van, fully costumed and ready to go.

In an instant, odd glances were thrown his way and some even stopped in confusion, only to be jostled from behind by over-eager walkers. Slipping quietly into the entrance of the Hendleman Park Bank, Dirk powered on the SKELE Power-Fist. It was go time, and not a moment too soon.

"Are you out of your freakin' mind, you can't be dressed like that here!"

A security guard, as expected, had little patience for a masked man in such a premier financial institution as Hendleman. And while the near-child-like quality of handiwork afford to his costume disarmed the guard slightly - perhaps concerned that this man was less a threat and moreso a lost mental patient with the mind of a kindergarten artist - he hovered his hand over his right-side, above his holstered firearm.

With an audible grunt, Dirk swung his fist at the poor guard, colliding his Power-Fist into his stomach at nearly full-force. The impact threw him into a high arc and at its apex, he collided with the no-doubt priceless chanderlier suspended from the ceiling, bringing both crashing to the ground. As shards of glass sprinkled across the room, the entire bank floor collectively whipped around, some screaming, some cowed into silence. The security guard remained in a heap; he wouldn't be getting back up anything soon, or even at all.

[color=LightSlateGray]"This a stick-up...and I am Bonefist!"[/color]

Not the most graceful statement, but it served its purpose, as people focused their attention on Dirk, some even dropping to the ground. Looks like they knew the drill. With bold strides, he began to march up to the teller windows, just as two additional security guards emerged from the backroom, no doubt slacking off. Dirk snatched the nearest civilian, an elderly gentleman who looked less scared than most, and held him firmly in his grasp.

[color=LightSlateGray]"Another step and going senile will be the least of gramps' concerns, you understand me? Now drop your guns and slid them over - quick-like!"[/color]

Hesitating, the senior of the two guards relented and kicked over his firearm, his partner following suit. Releasing the old timer, Dirk pocketed one of the pistols and smashed the other, his Power-Fist reducing it to little bits. Seeing an opportunity while Dirk got a bit overzealous in checking out his newly acquired weapon, the two guards rushed him. Taking a shoulder to the gut, Dirk hit the ground hard, but unfortunately for his adversaries, he went down swinging. A single connection was all it took to render the junior guard out for the count, suffering a glancing strike to the side of his head. Likely not lethal, but boy that would leave a reminder.

The senior security officer remained, and in the scuffle had snatched back his gun from Dirk. A single shot was dispatched into Dirk's chest before his jab struck the man's hand, breaking it in the process. The crowd understandably took this moment to descend into anarchy, many storming outside as their last protectors were downed while Dirk had fallen to a knee, the wind firmly knocked out of his sails. Silently, he thanked whatever god was out there for the invention of bullet-proof vests. 

Rubbing his chest where the bullet hit, he stood back up and made a quick beat towards the tellers once more, sans interruption this time hopefully. A raised fist was enough for them to produce the bank manager, who was more than happy to give Dirk a tour of their vault. Gathering what he could stuff inside the satchel he brought along, Dirk began to flee when the tell-tale sound of sirens filled the streets outside. Of course the police were called in, and of course Dirk forgot about that little detail.

Wisely, he figured that his vest wouldn't stop an entire police force from gunning him down, so in a strike of (relative) brilliance, he thought quick about an escape route. Again with a raised fist, Dirk found his hostages very compliant in giving suggestions, and so it was that he learned that the other side of the vault wall just so happened to be an alleyway, one that few would suspect to cover in a bank heist. Ever gracious, Dirk threw a $100 bill at the lucky hostage with great planning capabilities and ran back into the vault, delivering a flurry of blows against the wall, each hit warping the metal inward. At the cusp of breaking a sweat, the wall gave and a hole crumbled out.

As Dirk crawled out into the outside world, with enough cash to live very comfortable for a good while, he couldn't help but smile. Sure, he had to off a few guards, sure he got shot, and sure the police nearly turned him into swiss cheese. But hey, baby steps, right?