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	Two gunshots rang out and Basilisk knew from the screams that people were getting hurt, the splatter of blood from the guard’s ruined shoulder spraying across the floor and causing more screams from the people scattered around the room. Hostages only mattered if you cared about them though, and these people, to cowardly to run when they saw the danger, he couldn’t care less. Ignoring the screamed threat he squared up on the shaking Vanish, her hands pointed his way but he figured that anything fired at a high enough impact was likely to puncture rather than push him back when he put his weight behind the attack. His back tensed, tail lashed, and he was about to leap upon the would be bank robber, in his mind’s eye he could already see her head clenched in his claws. Then came the whistle and the third shot. 	

	Sunken eyes followed the line of fire from the gun to where he could see a hole pierced through the surface of a toppled table. But what he saw behind the table was enough to freeze him in place as if his own blood had suddenly turned against him. A child, clutched by their mother was wide eyed with terror, scratches on their face from the shattered floor tiles. He had shot at a kid, and if his steady aim was anything to go by he was planning on following through with the threat on the next shot. 
“That’s a kid.” He looked to Vanish and his body bristled with anger in an almost palpable way. “Your buddy just shot at a little kid and their momma. I swear if he does it agai-” His threat was interrupted by the sound of Percy yelling out after a dull thud. Had the teller grown a pair of  balls and taken a swing at him? 

	Apparently not, there was someone there dressed in...a costume? It was worse than either Vanish’s or the man behind the counter. Batons in hand he looked like he was about to bullrush the man with the gun, and that was distraction enough. Basilisk turned and charged towards the table and the kid, intent on putting his body between Percy and the table. On the turn he lashed out with his tail towards Vanish’s ankle, intent on catching her with it and taking her along for the sprint.
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	The ride had been fun but Calvin Ball was just as excited as she felt the helicopter touch-down, hands moving to undo the harness straps that held her in place. In her hurry not to hold anyone behind her up she was almost clotheslined by a strap that had made its way around her neck, letting out a surprised “Hurk!” before quickly working herself free. Hoping no one had noticed she scrambled to evacuate the helicopter and get her boots back on the ground. 

	There had barely been enough time for her to get into line before the ground rumbled and the wind rushed, the eyes on the expressive lenses of her mask went wide and the destruction left her jaw hanging open as wires tore the street apart. Blurring metal cutting through anything in its path and left nothing standing. It was right then she was starting to feel very, very out of place. She wasn’t the kind of person who easily made friends or could talk someone out of doing something, often quite the opposite if she were being honest. And with hostages around there wasn’t a chance she could really let her power go full blast, not without hurting someone. Everyone around her seemed confident that they could do something here, make a difference. She could even hear some of them making plans already. And here she was, wrapped up in the shock and awe tactics of a supervillain, rooted to the spot. Maybe she wasn’t ready for something like this? It reminded her of the day the golden man had gone mad, and that memory was enough to leave her visibly shaking in her armor. Under her breath she murmured to herself. “Oh no..” But to her credit Calvin had made no move to back away. She would move forward, all it would take would be a word from Blur.. she could follow orders still, she hoped.