Atlas Central Bank

This... This was just brilliant.

Lilith Ross, 24, City Coroner, was celebrating an entire week without dying, or getting mortally wounded -- It was a surprising rare occurrence for the pretty young woman. Admittedly, she hadn't been terribly active as Necrosis, who would be partially responsible for her frequent 'death,' but even as a civilian she seemed to attract trouble. Maybe it was the perfume she wore. Or the make-up. The corset, maybe? It didn't matter; after all, who's going to believe a person claiming that a person who had been murdered two days previous was now up and walking around, inspecting the corpses of others?
So Lilith decided to treat herself to dinner at a nice restaurant with an old friend while she could; she was still on call, and in this city, a break did not last very long at all. She'd even gotten all dressed up for the occasion. Unfortunately, she had the brilliant idea of stopping into the bank to withdraw some money on the way there, in case she was stuck for it later on in the evening.

The queues weren't too bad, and, helmet under her arm, Lilith soon found herself near the front of the line... Which was when the robbers decided to make an appearance. She was grabbed and shoved to the floor by the man behind her before she got a chance to object. When she tried to sit up, a heavy boot impacted with her ribs, winding her and sending her to the cold, marble floor again.
"Try that again, Morticia, and see what happens." It - he - growled. He fired a shot into the air as a warning. It took her a hell of a lot of willpower not to laugh. Who did this idiot think he was? Instead she pretended to rub her 'injured' side and lay completely still on the ground.

Another shot rang out a little distance away, and the goth looked up just in time to see a pretty young teller behind the glass silently drop to the floor. Lilith met have made some kind of sub-conscious move to reach the girl, because in the next moment she was dragged to her feet by her hair in front of all the others there, her long black locks obscuring her view of the small crowd. She braced herself for a gunshot, a little surprised to feel the bite of stainless steel against her throat, slitting it in one smooth motion. She gagged instinctively, before she was dropped to the floor again. Bleeding out was not a fun way to die, it could take her almost five minutes to die... If her healing ability was being suppressed. Several people screamed as Lilith weakly clutched the knife wound, on the edge of consciousness. She was lying in the warm, sticky pool now, struggling to breathe. God, her dress and gloves... They were going to be ruined. As long as the blood didn't soak too much into the inside of her boots, they would be alright. With that thought, Lilith passed out silently.

When she came back around a few minutes later, the wound was still open, but healing slowly. It was hard to knit together flesh when there was a shortage of platelets to do so. She cracked her eyes open a fraction, seeing she was exactly where they had left her... In a pool of her own blood. Ugh, this guys had no class whatsoever. They also had the bright idea to turn their backs on her, partially blocking the civilian's view of her. If she could just reach her helmet... Or would she just lie there until the heat was off?

She reached out slowly for her helmet, seizing it and jamming it on just before the screaming started again. If she was lucky, nobody had paid much attention to her earlier, and her face had been somewhat obscured when she'd been 'killed'...

"Ring... Ring... Ring..."

The phone rang consistently. An old, rotary phone from god knows when. It sat on the little old-fashioned table, black and tarnished. A real antique, that has seen better days. It certainly wasn't appreciated. But, it didn't stop, so somebody was going to have to answer it. Muttering under his breath, the tall, good-looking man stretched in the sunlight that poured form his window, still stuck in that place between awake and asleep. He glanced wearily at the clock; four in the afternoon. Ugh... It had been a very rough night, and the bouncer hadn't gotten into bed until nearly nine that morning. His shift started again at nine-thirty that evening, and tonight was Friday night. TGIF all across the city, drunken party goers everywhere. He pinched the bridge of his nose at the mere thought of it. By the time he got up, put tracksuit bottoms on and got to the phone, it had stopped ringing.

"Shit," He mumbled, running a hand through his mop of messy hair. Well, he was up now. He walked the length of his small apartment, flopping onto the couch and turning on the TV. He sat up however as he saw the news flash on the screen... Some kind of robbery at the bank. There had been gunfire, and at least one confirmed killing. That was it; Eric was on his feet in a flash, heading back into his room to get his costume together...

The Abettor stood over the body of the young woman... The 'robbers' had been so distracted by the yelling of one man with a jammed weapon that they'd simply allowed one of Atlas's most prominent heroes to waltz in the front door. He vaguely recognized the woman... That helmet... Hmmm, she obviously hadn't been prepared; what were the chances that she of all people would be the one chosen to be killed in a hostage situation?
He crouched down with a small smile to feel for a pulse. To an ordinary person, it would seem impossible that she could survive the loss of that much blood.
"Stop playing around, Necrosis. It's getting old." He straightened up, offering out a hand to his blood-soaked colleague. They had only met a couple of times before, but her knew well of her regenerative abilities, and her ability to cheat death everytime.

He smiled at the group, daring one of them to make one false move. "I'll give you one chance to get up and leave while you still can."