ÐÅÑGËRØÛS LÕVÊ (mationix)

[eternityflame]

    The day had been slow, not many people had been going in or out of the bank. Astrid sat at her till, tapping her pen against the table top as she ran through some numbers. She finally had the chance to catch up on some paperwork that was due. She was dressed in a red blouse, buttoned teasingly low, she was also dressed in a black pencil skirt, which rose quite high, and showed her shapely body. Her long brown hair was draped over her shoulders, her lips were adorned with bright red lipstick. She was very beautiful, but was surprisingly single, she had never dated anyone in her life.
    She sighed and crossed her legs, her black stilettoes swinging. She looked up and gazed out the window, watching the traffic, and the birds swoop in the sky. It was quite nice outside, only one more hour of work and than she could go home. One more hour.

[mationix]

It was a little weird to be out in the U.S.A. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't come back; this place made him feel like he was always being watched, no matter what disguise he donned. Apparently, his mind had other plans. He had heard that there was one bank in particular notorious for being lax in their security. Hopefully it was a fact, not just a rumor. That was the problem with rumors, you didn't quite know if you could trust them or not. You were left with only putting your trust into another person's words.

He didn't like to do that.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he considered his options. A. He could stroll in, knock everyone out, then leave with the money. B. He could pretend to be a costumer, become one of those big names that walked in constantly. C. He could leave this place and grab a plane to head back to England.

None of these choices seemed completely fair. A and B could be knocked out of the way like an annoying bug, if the people in their were idiots. Though C...C meant that he would be a wimp, not willing to take a risk. Though no one would know that he skipped this bank, he would. Rolling his shoulders, he stood up straighter. Plan A was sounding a lot better. Glancing around in the corner of his eyes, he put a hand in his pockets, relaxing his shoulders. There were a lot of weirdos in the Americans, that seemed to be OK with giving outsiders their "goods". He worried about these people.

Pushing the door open, he cracked his neck, letting out a sigh. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, a glock in his hand. He strolled up to the counter, pressing the gun against Astrid's head. "Look, you seem like a nice lady," he said, sounding a little bored, "and I'd rather not get blood all over this place -doesn't exactly seem like it needs that kind of makeover. So, why don't you give me the money and I'll leave this place alone?" He tilted his head, nudging the gun's barrel against his temple. "Understood?"