[Throwdown at Slightly Past Noon(open)]

[Charles Mauer]

Time: 12:34pm
Place: Rite Aid drugstore on Lambert and Cook
Weather outside: Hot as hell

---

The Rite Aid was nearly dead, which was odd for a noon hour in the Phoenix business district. Usually they got a stream of convenience shoppers and browsers from the coffee shop across the street and the small cafe next door, but the heat must have been driving people into their air conditioned cars instead, making them decide to pick up the bread and eggs on the way home when it was cooler.

Only a few shoppers were inside the building, browsing the shelves and looking at the small cooler, or standing in the back waiting to get a prescription filled. A harried looking, blonde, female pharmacist in her mid 40s stood behind the back counter which was against the wall opposite the entrance and general check out, and the two counters faced each other, the rows of shelving allowing them an unobstructed view of each other.

The cashier at the general register was a gawky, bored looking brown haired kid with a case of acne that looked like it was only now just starting to clear up after he graduated high school.

---

Charles Mauer stood in line at the pharmacy counter behind a stooped old woman who was busy carefully counting out her change to the teller, who was audibly tapping her foot behind the counter. He'd been there for five minutes, and he was bored, looking around the store and hoping something interesting would happen.

He'd gotten off work for the morning after opening the small bookstore he worked at, and had headed here before home, partially to beat the heat on his walk back, and partially because he needed to pick up a couple things. Now he was regretting that decision, because this trip was taking far longer than he wanted it to. He really wanted to be home by now, relaxing in his air conditioned apartment and logging in some hours on one of his new games he had gotten the week before.

Charles tugged at the collar of the white button up shirt he was wearing, still hot despite the Rite Aid's air conditioned interior, and regretted wearing jeans today. It was definitely a shorts day.

[Sammy Yoon]

Sammy sighed as she threw away the empty ginger ale bottle that she couldn't resist buying while waiting for the pharmacist. Despite having technically moved out of the house, her parents still made her do chores for them. She found picking up her dad's blood pressure pills particularly annoying, as she had to stay there for thirty minutes while not doing anything. It was particularly maddening to see the pharmacist and her assistants laughing, talking, and noticeably not doing their work while she paced back and forth rather impatiently.

As the pharmacist, who didn't look too terribly thrilled to be there, handed over the medicine, Sammy barely resisted saying 'about freaking time'. She turned around and saw that there was only one line, and there was an old lady at front counting coins. Not quite irritated by her current situation enough to get annoyed at the elderly, she patiently stood behind the guy who dressed like he wasn't from around Phoenix. Despite not liking skimpy clothings, the weather had forced Sammy to choose a simple white spaghetti-strap tank top and a small jean shorts that kinda ended around the middle of her thighs. She was still feeling a bit sweaty after the hellish ride in her old Plymouth Neon with a broken A/C, but actually felt cold looking at the guy in front sweating.

"Hey." Sammy said, smiling friendly. "Are you all right? You're not exactly dressed for the weather today."

[Marc Stubbs]

Marc definitely wished he had the ability to control the weather right about now. The heat was a testament to just how the weather was like on most days here in Phoenix, but today was just ridiculous. Barely any wind circulation outside, the Rite Aid he was in would be his retreat until the temperature outside cooled down (or until The Archivist called asking for their newspapers and donuts). Wearing a pair of white shorts, a lime green shirt, and a pair of flip-flops, one would say that Marc was preparing to go to California and chill near the Santa Barbra beach. Alas it was the clothes he wore when he had to run quick errands for his comrades at The Archivists - he would change into something more casual when he did return to work later in the evening.

Marc grabbed a couple boxes of donuts and then made his way to wards the newspaper before heading over to the snacking area where the store kept bags of chips. He stood there for a moment before grabbing a bag of cool ranch Doritos and heading over to the frozen drinks inside the tall refrigerators. Standing there with a frustrated look on his face, Marc contemplated on what type of soda he should get: 7up or Sprite?

This could take a while...

[James Emmerich, IV]

Even with the sun beating down the city of Phoenix with an almost unbearable heat, James still carried his favorite coat around with him. The only difference is that today it's not wrapped around his shoulders, but hung loosely over his folded arm as he strode towards the entrance to the Rite Aid.

The rush of air-conditioned air as the sliding doors crept open felt good, as he had decided, in all his wisdom, to wear jeans today when the weather most definitely did not warrant it. It didn't bother him too much, as he had experienced hotter temperatures in the past while still in the employ of the US Government.

He noticed the single line at the counter, led by an elderly woman who clearly thought it was about time to get rid of all the change rattling around the bottom of her purse, a boy dressed similarly to him and a young Asian woman he could tell looked a little peeved. He raised his eyebrows and flashed a smile as he continued past them toward the coolers.

"Ah, there you are." He opened the glass case after a moment of searching to produce a half gallon container of Non-Dairy Vanilla Ice Cream and tucked it under his arm, turning to return to the front of the store. He had felt it a good day for a banana split, and lacked only the vanilla ice cream necessary. The sundae always brought a smile to his face, as it reminded him of lazy Saturday afternoons with his family.

He was a little lost in memory as he walked up behind the Asian girl in line, having not budged at all as the old woman was only halfway to her goal, conveniently displayed on the display of the cash register. Beads of condensation trickled down his leather coat from the warming bucket of ice cream as James rocked back and forth on his heels waiting for the line to move so he can return home to enjoy his ice cream.

[NPC]

A man walked into the store. He was small, compact, with dark hair and eyes, and had a cold glint in his quickly darting eyes that spelled trouble. Looking around the store, he quickly took in the positions of everyone in the store--the line by the back counter, the cashier at the front, the two men at the coolers, and the pharmacists in the back.

He cracked his fingers nervously, seemingly steeling himself as he stood at the front of the store.

The kid behind the front counter seemed about to ask the man if he needed something, when the man turned to the store at large.

ALLRIGHT, Everyone on the floor, now!" he yelled, pulling two folded up, black trash bags from his jacket pocket and tossing one at the kid behind the front counter before starting to stride towards the back of the store.

"What the hell?" the kid behind the front counter was clearly not quick on the uptake. "Dude, you don't even have a gun." He reached for what could be assumed was a silent alarm.

The stranger snapped around, looking the kid squarely in the face, opened his mouth,

And shot a gout of flame from his maw, engulfing the kid in fire. The kid started screaming, thrashing into the packs of smokes and condoms, and cough syrup behind the counter, falling to the floor after a moment, his scream dying off in the crackle and stench of burning hair and flesh.

The stranger turned to face the rest of the people in the store.

"Right, everyone on the ground, or do I need to give you more incentive."

He seemed furious.

[Charles Mauer]

Chuck turned to the cute girl behind him, and was about to speak when he saw a guy walk in the Rite Aid's front door. Something was off about the guy, and he paused his reply.

The guy ordering them all to hit the floor was proof of his sense of something being off. It took Charles a moment to fully comprehend what was going on...

The store he was is was being robbed. Great. Awesome start to a day. He put his hands in the air and began to lower himself to the floor, not wanting to piss off a probably dangerous man.

He looked up as the front cashier started talking, now only on his knees, and eyes growing wide as the kid lipped off to the guy robbing the store. What the hell, most customer service jobs just told their employees to give robbers what they wanted so no one got hurt...moron kid.

Then someone got hurt.

Charles gazed in shocked horror as the man who had just walked in shot fire out of his mouth, incinerating the kid behind the counter. Chuck had always wanted to run into people with superpowers, but, before today, he'd thought they only lived in the movies and comic books. Faced with a person who could breathe fire in real life, Chuck was pretty sure he'd have been perfectly happy if superpowers had been fictional.

As the guy turned back towards the back of the store, Charles lowered himself all the way to the floor, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone or make any move that could be construed as threatening.

[Sammy Yoon]

"ALLRIGHT, Everyone on the floor, now!"

Sammy winced as she heard the sudden shout from the direction of the entrance. She turned around, slightly annoyed at the surprise that she felt was really unnecessary. A man, who didn't seem to be armed, was throwing his trash bag at the cashier, who in turn looked at him incredulously. When the cashier talked back at the unarmed robber, however, Sammy screamed as she saw the robber exhaling a stream of fire that burned the cashier to his death, and began to look at the scene in horror as she begun to shake.

"Right, everyone on the ground, or do I need to give you more incentive."

Sammy immediately followed his order and closed her eyes tightly. She had never been in a situation like this, and she could hear her own heartbeat as part of her mind imagined the robber going out of control and start burning the entire store down. She was slightly shivering without noticing it herself, but she was also troubled by the part of her mind that was advocating something bold. No! She thought firmly. She didn't even know how it was going to turn out of she had used that power, and she didn't particularly wanted to in any case. Just like that flame-breathing ability... how can it be even considered remotely good?

She was going to keep her head down, and wait until the robber is done with the store. There was no need for her to be a hero, and she didn't particularly wanted to be a hero.

[Marc Stubbs]

7up or Sprite?

This was most definitely the question of the year as Marc stood there silently in front of the cooler, unsure of which beverage would be "lemony" enough to quench his thirst in the blistering heat. Sure to somebody just looking to get a quick fix on some fizzy goodness wouldn't care which of the two sodas they grabbed, but to Marc is was the equivalent of life or death...how ironic.

Just as the man was about to reach for one of the beverages, the sound of yelling came from behind him towards the entrance of the store. Snapping his head back to investigate, he was a bit perplexed to see a man shouting out orders to the people in the store though there was no weapon present that would execute such an act. Marc shook his head as he stared at the man a bit.

"The heat just makes everybody go crazy obviously," Marc commented to himself as he continued to look at the man shouting demands. Than it happened. The stranger opened his mouth and much like a dragon released an inferno. Marc's mouth dropped as he stared at the man's unique "talent". He had seen some interesting abilities over the past couple of months, but nothing like this guy's. He witnessed as the store clerk was engulfed in a heap of flames, falling to the floor in silence after a minute of screams and agony.

Now usually in a instance like this, Marc would fry this guy's ass off, but because of The Archivists' strick rules he had to be very discreet with his ability. So he slowly bent to the ground and waited for the opportunity to strike out at the robber - but first, he would take a sip from this soda.

[James Emmerich, IV]

"ALLRIGHT, Everyone on the floor, now!"

Everyone turned to see the quite unremarkable man standing in the doorway, quite unarmed and looking mostly harmless. The kid behind the register looked as if he were halfway to laughing at the rather poor attempt at armed robbery, as for this to occur one must be visible armed.

The young man spat a jet of fire from his mouth, extending far behind the counter to engulf the poor and unsuspecting clerk in flames. As others looked on in horror at the thrashing man, James looked on relatively calmly, trying to formulate some kind of plan in the back of his head.

James remained standing as everyone around him dropped to the floor, and turned to stare directly at the fire-spewing assailant. His arms still holding the leather jacket and the half-gallon of ice cream, he spoke, serious and grim.

"I do believe that was unnecessary, and a rather wreckless use of your abilities."

[NPC]

A small but shark like grin flickered in the corner of the robber's mouth as he watched people in the store drop to the floor. Power was good, and power gained through fear felt exceptionally potent to him.

Then his eyes alighted on the older man still standing, and the flicker of a smile turned into a snarl. He hated it when people didn't do what he told them to.

"I SAID get the FUCK on the ground, man!" The robber took a menacing step towards James.

"You wanna end up crispy like the fucker up front?"

He was about 15 feet from the now prostrate line at the back pharmacy counter, and glanced down. Quickly, he stooped, grabbing Sammy by the hair and hauling her to her feet, pressing his cheek against hers.

"Or maybe, she'll be the one who ends up deep fried."

[James Emmerich, IV]

James looked down at the young Asian girl as the assailant wrapped his fingers through her hair and lifted her off the ground, his eyes widening slightly, then returning his gaze to the man. He needed to come up with something, and quick.

"Oh, I don't think you'll do that. If you waste time with her, you won't have time to react to me doing... well, whatever I want really. You have no idea if I'm armed or not." James shifted the leather jacket in his hands, still holding the half-gallon of non-dairy ice cream.

"At this point in time, your best chance to get out of here alive is to kill me."

[Charles Mauer]

Charles was quickly realizing that he was more scared than he had ever been in his life. It would have been one thing if everyone had gone along with the crazy, fire breathing robber's...well, robbery of the store, but like in every movie, there was one guy who stood up to the baddie.

Unfortunately, this was real life, and the guy mouthing off was an old dude who was inches away from getting them all toasty.

Then the robber grabbed the girl who had been standing behind him in line, using her as a hostage. Something deep inside Chuck, something learned from years of action movies and video games, welled up, urging him to action. Urging him to take out the robber.

Unfortunately, he was too scared. Frozen to the spot. Waiting, hoping for something to happen to get him out of this place.

[Sammy Yoon]

Sammy trembled slightly as the robber walked right past her. Some guy seemed to be confronting the robber, and part of her mind not scared into paralysis wondered what the guy was thinking. All they had to do is do as they're told, and no one will be-

"You wanna end up crispy like the fucker up front?"

Sammy gasped in pain as she was pulled up by her hair, then her eyes widened in terror as she realized that the robber was right next to her face. As his cheek began to rub against hers, Sammy cringed in disgust and fear. The slightly unshaven face of the robber grated against Sammy's skin like sandpaper, but Sammy was still held in position by her hair, and couldn't move to avoid him.

"Or maybe, she'll be the one who ends up deep fried."

She whimpered as she looked to the guy who provoked the robber, who seemed astoundingly calm.

"Oh, I don't think you'll do that. If you waste time with her, you won't have time to react to me doing... well, whatever I want really. You have no idea if I'm armed or not. At this point in time, your best chance to get out of here alive is to kill me."

Sammy's eyes widened. This man... he's crazy as well! What's worse, the person in front of him was making the robber angrier and angrier, and Sammy's very precarious proximity to the firebreather just made her position more and more dangerous. I... I have no choice... She decided to do something about the situation before it got out of hand.

Her eyes partially wavering and partially glaring at the reckless crazy man in front of her, Sammy began to concentrate as she employed the power she never wanted to use outside of her parents' house. She wasn't too sure how the power worked, but somehow by thinking about the effect triggered it with ease.

The fluorescent lights above them began to creak, as did several shelves around the store. Some of them could no longer bear the weight of the merchandises it once supported so easily, and broke down. The goods, typical drug store stuff that weighed no greater than a couple of kilograms, made impact with the floor while making deep, heavy noises. The effect of Sammy's power came swiftly, taking only a second to magnify the gravitational pull of the Earth on everything in the store ninefold.

Then, almost as swiftly, the effect disappeared, replaced by the sudden feeling as if everything had turned lighter. Some of the objects began to float off wherever they were standing as the gravitational pull began to weaken significantly.

Not a second later, the oppressive heavy pull appeared again, only to be replaced by the lightweighted feelings. As Sammy tried her best to simulate world's worst nausea-inducing environment, the two extreme environment followed each other, lasting only a second or two before another change.

((Sammy takes initiative because every guy in the drugstore who are not holding her hostage are useless! ;D))

[Marc Stubbs]

Marc didn't know if it were him or if he was coming down with something, but his stomach was serious starting to take a strange turn for the worst. Looking over at the soda that was firmly gripped in his hands, he knew he should have went for his first choice...the stuff he had now was only giving him nausea. Placing the soda down and looking around the store, he noticed a couple of strange things happening in his surroundings. Just how much weirder could things get around here?

Seeing as to how things were becoming a bit dangerous for everybody here within the store, Marc thought if the old man wanted to be the hero, he should at least help out a bit...of course as soon as his stomach settled a bit. Looking up at the ceiling he pointed his finger at one of the ceiling lights in the distance and shot a bolt of lightning in its direction. The idea was to temporarily distract the robber and hopefully give the girl enough time to run or give the old guy enough time to be Clint Eastwood.

The light on the ceiling sparked and blew out, nearly catching fire until the sprinklers went out. Well that was certainly not part of the plan, but at least now Fire-Breath wouldn't be as much of a threat (he hoped). Then again, it meant Marc wouldn't be able to use his ability for water made his power highly dangerous to wards his own body. Unsure as to how his small bolt of electricity could affect what happened next - he laid on the ground silently and wet.

{OOC: A bit rushed.}

[NPC]

This old man was severely pissing him off, and the robber was about to let the girl have it just to spite him.

Then the world shifted under his feet, and bottles started rolling off shelves around him. Trying to steady himself and fight off the sudden nausea that he was suffering from, he lost his balance a little more and started falling. His grasp on the girl loosened.

Realizing that something was horribly off when the sprinklers were set off, he let go of the girl, shoving her at the old man with the ice cream and trying to steady himself on a nearby shelf.

"You're fuckin' dead," he growled, righting himself, his hair slicking down from the sprinklers raining overhead. An alarm bell was ringing, and he was having trouble collecting his thoughts. This was supposed to have been a simple heist--get in, get cash and all the medication he could ever want, and then get out. This was turning into far too much of a fiasco, and these people were starting to piss him off.