Or The Max. That was his name in the underworld. Max. Nothing ridiculous like "Purple Shiny Pants" or "Billygoat Gruff." No, his supervillain name was simply Max. He was super strong and invulnerable. The name fit.
Max had just gotten into the game. He'd hit some ATMs and ripped open some store vaults. You'd be amazed how much money was in a McDonald's safe. Same MO everytime. Gloves and a ski mask, jeans and a t-shirt, all non-descript. He was super strong, but he was only average sized. The money went into a backpack. Once he was out of sight the gloves and the mask came off and he could be anyone. Just another face in the crowd.
He was Scott Sullivan. A kid from an abusive home who ran away at 15. He'd lived on the streets, panhandling and pickpocketing to get his next meal and trying to find a safe place to sleep at night. Then, a few days after he turned 18, his powers kicked in and now he was living the life of Riley. He spent his money until he had no more and then went and did another job.
Scott had an apartment now, a loft above a bar in a part of town where the crime rate wasn't very high, but his landlord was willing to take a large influx of cash and not ask questions. Scott slept the days away and spent his nights in clubs and bars, searching for happiness. He'd tried drugs and alcohol, but since nothing seemed to affect him now that he was super, there was no happiness to be found there. So he bought drinks for the house, drank rum and coke without the rum, and tried to pick up women. There was certainly happiness to be found there.
Today he was down to his last few hundred dollars. This time Scott planned a bigger score. He emptied out his book bag onto the bed. His gloves and mask fell out as well as a few dozen paper strips for wrapping money after it was counted. After zipping the bag back up he slung it over his shoulders, put on the mask and gloves and leapt out of his loft apartment through the open sky light.
Two hops, and three miles later, he was in the center of downtown Polis City, in front of the biggest bank in the state. He simply walked inside. Scott, or Max, didn't disable any security cameras. He didn't threaten the bank tellers or tell everyone to get down. He walked toward the back, where the vault was. If anyone got in his way he gently, but firmly, pushed them aside.
The security guard at the vault was slamming the ten foot steel door closed. He turned and fired on the Max with his revolver. The bullets bounced off him, rebounding about the room. Max gave a small chuckle as he kept up his steady walking pace. The guard ran screaming from the room. Max ripped the lock out of the door and tossed it over his shoulder. He tore the door open and let it swing. Inside the vault he took a moment to find the hundreds. He filled his bag with stacks of hundred dollar bills. There was plenty of hundreds left, let alone other denominations, but the bag was full. Next time he would have to bring a bigger bag.
The Max shouldered the bag and walked out. All said and done he took less than five minutes in the bank. The lights of the police cars could be seen in the distance, trying to make their way through the heavy traffic of downtown. The Max had already leapt into the air and was gone before they arrived.
Polis City didn't have any world class super heroes. The Max was the first super villain to make national news.
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OOC: This thread is fairly open ended. It's not a straight to sex thread. Where it goes will be decided by my co-author and I. Obviously, there is a girl that needs to be introduced. A villain who entices the Max into a deeper life of crime? A hero who tries to capture him? Perhaps they meet outside of their costumes and fall for each other without knowing who the other one is. There's all sorts of possibilities.
Max had just gotten into the game. He'd hit some ATMs and ripped open some store vaults. You'd be amazed how much money was in a McDonald's safe. Same MO everytime. Gloves and a ski mask, jeans and a t-shirt, all non-descript. He was super strong, but he was only average sized. The money went into a backpack. Once he was out of sight the gloves and the mask came off and he could be anyone. Just another face in the crowd.
He was Scott Sullivan. A kid from an abusive home who ran away at 15. He'd lived on the streets, panhandling and pickpocketing to get his next meal and trying to find a safe place to sleep at night. Then, a few days after he turned 18, his powers kicked in and now he was living the life of Riley. He spent his money until he had no more and then went and did another job.
Scott had an apartment now, a loft above a bar in a part of town where the crime rate wasn't very high, but his landlord was willing to take a large influx of cash and not ask questions. Scott slept the days away and spent his nights in clubs and bars, searching for happiness. He'd tried drugs and alcohol, but since nothing seemed to affect him now that he was super, there was no happiness to be found there. So he bought drinks for the house, drank rum and coke without the rum, and tried to pick up women. There was certainly happiness to be found there.
Today he was down to his last few hundred dollars. This time Scott planned a bigger score. He emptied out his book bag onto the bed. His gloves and mask fell out as well as a few dozen paper strips for wrapping money after it was counted. After zipping the bag back up he slung it over his shoulders, put on the mask and gloves and leapt out of his loft apartment through the open sky light.
Two hops, and three miles later, he was in the center of downtown Polis City, in front of the biggest bank in the state. He simply walked inside. Scott, or Max, didn't disable any security cameras. He didn't threaten the bank tellers or tell everyone to get down. He walked toward the back, where the vault was. If anyone got in his way he gently, but firmly, pushed them aside.
The security guard at the vault was slamming the ten foot steel door closed. He turned and fired on the Max with his revolver. The bullets bounced off him, rebounding about the room. Max gave a small chuckle as he kept up his steady walking pace. The guard ran screaming from the room. Max ripped the lock out of the door and tossed it over his shoulder. He tore the door open and let it swing. Inside the vault he took a moment to find the hundreds. He filled his bag with stacks of hundred dollar bills. There was plenty of hundreds left, let alone other denominations, but the bag was full. Next time he would have to bring a bigger bag.
The Max shouldered the bag and walked out. All said and done he took less than five minutes in the bank. The lights of the police cars could be seen in the distance, trying to make their way through the heavy traffic of downtown. The Max had already leapt into the air and was gone before they arrived.
Polis City didn't have any world class super heroes. The Max was the first super villain to make national news.
--------------------
OOC: This thread is fairly open ended. It's not a straight to sex thread. Where it goes will be decided by my co-author and I. Obviously, there is a girl that needs to be introduced. A villain who entices the Max into a deeper life of crime? A hero who tries to capture him? Perhaps they meet outside of their costumes and fall for each other without knowing who the other one is. There's all sorts of possibilities.
