Thomas Allo watched greedily as the guards at a bank opened fire on him. When would they ever learn? The bullets pierced his body; several going into his head, a few in his legs, even more in his chest, and kept going, striking endless pedestrians behind him. He stood there, wondering how long it would take before they figured out why their bullets weren't working. Meanwhile, with the police there still shooting at him, he walked up to one of the desks.

"Hi there!" he cried cheerfully at the frightened teller, who was watching in horror as a bullet pierced his head, spraying paint all over the carpet. No one seemed to notice how it was sliding back to his body and that he was reforming. What stupid people. "Just fill up the bag, okay?" he asked politely, handing to woman a sack. She got to work, and the bullets stopped. It seemed the police had run out of ammo.

Behind him, a tall hooded figure silently entered the bank. Carefully avoiding any stray paint splatters, he made his way towards the theif, thinking, planning his next moves. When he was right behind him, two creepily cold, large metal claws were placed on his shoulders. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" said the figure. His hood shifted slightly, revealing his pale face, with only one visible golden hazel eye, the other hidden under a sheet of jet-black hair, tipped with red.

"Robbing a bank," Thomas replied curtly, not even bothering to look behind him. The Teller had finished filling to sack, but seeing Scythe holding Thomas, was beginning to wonder whether she should give it to him or not.

Scythe frowned. "Why rob a bank when you could be doing something useful?" he asked, turning Thomas towards the door. "With an ability like yours, you'd be better off as an artist!" he said, Attempting to push him to the door.

"Why can't I do both?" he taunted. Scythe's arms sunk through his body, popping out of his chest. Thomas smiled, grabbed his arms, and ripped Scythe through his own body, sending him flying across the room in a messy, paint-colored blob. After grabbing the money, he began walking towards the door, barely paying Scythe any attention at all.

Scythe spat paint out his mouth, cursing. He jumped to his feet, bolting for the door. His hand morphed in a small, sharp knife, and as he ran past Thomas, he sliced off the top of the bag, the money inside scattering every which way as it fell to the floor. Scythe stood up straight, facing Thomas. "That money isn't yours to take, I hope you know." Scythe said, his left arm changing into his namesake, a scythe.

Thomas' head twisted around completely on his neck. He glared at Scythe. "You must be as stupid as the rest of these people, if you think you can stop me with swords and other things." he grunted, forming his arm into a giant hammer and swinging it at Scythe.

Just barley dodging the hammer, Scythe jumped out the way. "You wanna play with hammers? I can do hammers!" Scythe exclaimed, his right arm also changing into a large metal hammer. He took a swing at Thomas, while also swinging at him with his left scythe arm.

Thomas took a step back, allowing the Scythe to gnash his chest, while the hammer took off part of his nose. Needless to say, he reformed rather quickly, if now appearing just a tiny bit thinner. After a short pause, Thomas considered the best course of action, and broke for the door, hoping he could get out before Scythe caught him.

Though it was likely pointless, Scythe dashed after him, shouting "Wait!" as he hurried to catch up with him. But, before he could even get close to the door, his feet slid out from under him. He had stepped on some dollar bills that had landed in paint, and thus, he came crashing hard to the floor, cursing as he went.

Thomas turned around and laughed as he ran, obviously amused at Scythe's failure. He'd just made it out of the door when what could only be described as "a huge gray mouth rising up out of the concrete" swallowed him whole. That orb then compressed, and out of one of the walls, a humanoid figure, also gray, oozed out of the side. It sat there for a moment before forming into a girl, who seemed to be beaming with pride. "Finally got you.. Bastard!" she screamed, which was then accompanied by a scream of pain from inside the orb.

Scythe gathered himself and rushed outside at the sound of screaming. Civillians who had wandered to the bank to watch Scythe and Thomas fight, were now yelling their heads off as they ran away in fear. Scythe stared at Mary's form, and then the place where Thomas had dissapeared. "What did you do to him?!" he shouted at her, steppng forward. He didn't dare ask the other question on his mind. Is he dead?

"Nothing~," she replied cheerfully. The orb shrunk further, and Thomas could no longer form a mouth to scream with.

A firey rage grew inside of Scythe. "This is all your fault. All your fault, little Walter. It's your fault your mother is dead, little Walter. YOU. KILLED. HER! KILLED! HER!" a voice echoed in his head. "SHUT UP!" Scythe bellowed, charging towards Mary, scythe as one hand, giant hammer in the other. Jumping into the air, he meant to duplicate the same move he had used on Thomas earlier.

Mary snapped her head upwards, obviously happy to find someone to fight with. She rose one hand in Scythe's direction, and a large lance formed from it, aiming to skewer him before he had a chance to hit her.

Scythe tried to move out of the way, but despite his efforts, when he landed akwardly on the street behind Mary, his arms revertied back to normal. He inhaled sharply as he discovered a large gash on his right arm, running from above his elbow to his shoulder. He turned to glare at Mary. "You got a problem with me?" he challenged, cradling his injured arm with the unijured one.

"Don't be a baby. That arm probably has a whole bunch of marks like that, anyway. Riiiiight~?" she taunted, her arm forming into an axe this time as she attempted a chop at his head.

Scythe clenched his teeth. "Didn't I tell you to shut up?!" he shouted, turn as much of his arms as possible into metal, so they wouldn't get hurt more. All except the wound was covered, but he made up for it by tearing off part of his shirt and using it as a makeshift bandage. Ever so slowly he started to edge toward the orb where Thomas was. "So...what's your name, lil' girl?" he asked, hoping to engage her in conversation instead of battle so he could free Thomas.

The girl's eye's gleamed. "Mary," she responded politely, tipping her head a little. Even though her position showed little openings, it was quite obvious that she was prepared for Scythe. The axe she created sunk back into her arm, which then returned to normal. "Your name?"

"You can call me Scythe." he answered. He was about 10 feet from the orb now. "You live around here?"

"Kind of. I live anywhere I want to." she replied, now fiddling with her nails. It was quite obvious he was advancing towards the orb. It didn't matter, really. What would he possibly accomplish by getting near it?

Scythe gave a crooked smile "Interesting.." He was close enough to the orb now. His left arm rapidly took the shape of a hammer, and Scythe swung at the orb's side, intending to either break the orb and free Thomas, or send it flying, where hopefully it would crack open upon impact with the ground.

The orb moved on it's own, avoiding Scythe's swing and remaining by Mary's side. She didn't seem annoyed... Amused would be the correct word. "Why do you even want to free him? Aren't you supposed to be capturing him..?" she mused, twirling her hair with one finger. She was growing bored of Scythe.

Sighing, Scythe ran a hand through his hair. "What's the point of sending a dead guy to jail, ya know?" he shrugged, and kicked some stray street debris. He wasn't really quite sure why exactly he felt the need to free him. All he knew was that every fiber of his being was telling him that this was wrong.

"What's the point of freeing a dead person?" she rebuttled. The only way to kill Thomas would be to drastically increase or lower the tempurature... Which she was incapable of doing. Scythe was wasting his time. "But how 'bout this... If you can cut me, I'll let you have him~!" she giggled. She'd kill him.

Scythe grinned, "Fair enough!" Both of his arms started to change and grow, and soon Scythe's left and right hands became sword and sheild. She rushed towrds Mary, aiming for her head.

A very typical movement. Mary grunted. She thought the boy'd have more combat potential... She formed a simple sheild with her right arm, and used that to block Scythe's sword. Deflecting it upwards, she used her other arm to form the same lance from before, it shooting foward in another attempt to skewer Scythe.

Scythe jumped backwards, not repeating the same mistake twice. Let's try this, he thought, his right arm forming into an axe. He took a swing at Mary's lance.

Mary's lance was knocked to the side by Scythe's axe. She grumbled something and moved for the first time in the fight, taking a step backwards as well. Her arm reformed with a light bruise on it. She didn't seem to notice. "Bastard..!" she growled, raising the same arm Scythe had used above her head, and forming a giant knife with it.

Scythe laughed at her comment. He formed the same knife as Mary, but with opposite appendage to her own. Scythe took a jab at Mary's side, stepping to her right. Not wanting to take any chances, he also transefered his sheild form to his other arm, raising it to eye level. Scythe took a jab at Mary's side, stepping to her right in hopes of avoiding her weapon if she decided to bring it down on him.

"Ku.." Mary was not amused any longer. She was angry. She brought the knife down with incredible force on the arm Scythe had used as a blade, pinning it there, and preventing it's movement. Glaring at him, she preformed her next move, making a large flail with her other arm, reeling it back, and then sending the large spiked ball flying foward at Scythe.

Blocking the flail was no problem for Scythe, as it ricocheted off of his sheild with a loud CLANG! The deadlock between the knives however, was much more of a problem. This is going to leave a mark later.. he thought, wincing. In a desperate attempt to break the two apart, Scythe pushed hard on Mary's knife, unsure of the outcome.

A metal hand shot out of the flat of Mary's knife, wrapping it's fingers around Scythe's throat. The flail that Scythe had blocked turned into a giant axe, and she brought that down as well, without hesitation.

With the adreniline pumping through his veins, Scythe did the first thing that came to mind in order to defend himself. Abandoning the idea of a sheild, once more Scythe turned his arm into his namesake, and swung wildly at the axe that was headed for him.

Everything stopped. The squeezing of the hand on his throat. The movement of the axe. The pressure on his blade. All stopped as Scythe's scythe dug it's blade into the shaft of Mary's axe. For a few moments, there was silence. Mary reverted to her normal form, her left arm now with a rather deep cut on it. She paused for a moment, then, picking up the orb... Launched it at Scythe with incredible force. It was more like a bullet, then anything else. Leaving him with that, she disapeared from sight, sinking into the ground.

For a fraction of a second, Scythe paused to ponder where Mary has dissapeared to. But soon his sense came back to him and his arms, still metal, were reverted back to a relatively normal shape. He crossed his arms over each other, balling his hands into fists, and braced for impact. The resulting force of the orb hitting Scythe's arms made him skid backwards at least two blocks down the street. And finally, when the two stopped moving, they both fell to the ground. Panting, Scythe forced himself to get up and examine his prize. There were now a few cracks in the orb, and Scythe rapped his knuckles on it, "Hellooo? Still alive in there?"

Paint exploded out of the cracks in the orb. Thomas did not enjoy being pressurized. The Being formed was rainbow; a strange mess of colors, which have not obviously been sorted out by someone who was in a rush to escape. He stared at Scythe a moment, grinned, then exploded, covering the area in paint. "Thanks!" was the last word that could be heard.

"HEY!" Scythe yelled, wiping paint off of his face. He made a face. It wasn't quite a frown, and it wasn't quite a grin, either. One might say it was a sort of lopsided smile, but even then that definition wasn't very accurate. He observed people in some nearby apartments stick their heads out of their windows, shouting to each other, trying to figure out what was going on. Scythe chuckled and shook his head. "Stay out of trouble, kay? Make sure I don't have come find you to clean up your mess again." he murmured. His arms slowly fading back to normal, he walked down the street and into an alleyway, out of sight.

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