[u]Titus, Whisper, and Emilio[/u] Titus, caught off guard by the sudden attack of the angry bar stools, flew through the air, through the glass storefront of the bar, and was sent sailing into the elevator shaft. He plummeted ten floors before crashing through the roof of the elevator. He hit the elevator floor with a loud "bang!" that echoed through the elevator shaft and laid still, a puddle of blood forming in the dent he made in the floor. He groaned and muttered something inaudible with a broken jaw before the elevator began to go down. Luckily, no one was inside. Emilio walked over to the edge of the shaft and, looking down, shouted "Team Rocket's blasting off again!" Whisper appeared next to him a moment later. "You're an ass." she said, smirking. "The one and only." he replied. Emilio turned back towards the bar and walked up to the counter, where he shouted "all clear!" The manager exited the kitchen first, gun in hand. "So sorry about the damage." Emilio said "We will, of course, pay for its repair in full." The manager scowled and leveled the gun at Emilio's chest. "I have called the police." the manager said "Now get the hell out of my restaurant." Emilio frowned. "Now why would you do that?" Emilio replied "We had the situation under con-" "Out. Now." The manager said. The bartender gasped as Whisper appeared behind the manager, knife in hand. "Very well." Emilio said. Whisper drove down with the knife and cut the barrel of the gun off before grabbing the manager by the back of his head and shoving him into the marble barcounter. He groaned and fell to the ground, a large gash on his forehead that trickled blood onto the floor. She climbed up onto the bar counter. "Lets go." she said "We're not welcome here anymore." Whisper vanished once more and drifted towards the door in a cloud of smoke. Taylor got up from under the bar counter and looked around cautiously. It seemed safe now, so she began to make her way towards the door, looking over her shoulder for attackers. She was getting the hell out of here and back home where there weren't killer monsters sitting all around her. Maybe she'd head to Jazzy's and get some coffee; they made great cappucinos, she heard. She walked over to the elevators and hit the up button on the one that wasn't currently occupied by a badly-damaged bullet monkey. [u]Ivan and Dr.Wright[/u] Ivan shifted in his seat and took a long drink of his beer as Baron spoke. He placed the beer back on the counter with a definitive "clunk" and rested his hands steepled on the table, as if he were in thought. Baron wasn't sorry for anything, and Ivan wasn't quite sure why he was. It wasn't like he asked Baron to fight. "You and me both." Ivan replied "I'm staying the hell out of this thing if I can. I have a feeling that my occupation will put me in the line of fire to a certain degree." He paused for a moment, and a wry smile crossed his face. "If you do find yourself caught up in it, however," Ivan said "call me if you want anything to explode." Dr.Wright shifted uncomfortably and began to pick at his meal. He didn't want to entertain the thought of Ivan blowing things up. Ivan seemed to get a bit too much satisfaction out of saying that. --- Tara reached her motorcycle and jammed the keys into the ignition. She took off through the parking garage, driving around the toll booth, and swerved as Samson approached, attempting to smack him with the back wheel before taking off down the street at breakneck speed towards the bridge. As she passed a dark alley, a headlight blinked on. A grey motorcycle sauntered into the street and followed after the blazing cycle. Riding it was a dirty-looking man with a grey cowboy hat on his head, held on by a drawstring as he drove. He had a crooked smile on his face, and smoked a cigarette as he swerved down an alley and intersected Tara's bike as she turned left onto Watson Street, towards the Watson-Crick Bridge. He sped up, gaining on her as she blazed past the bridge's toll booth, causing red lights to blare and a siren to go off. A second motorcycle roared through right after her, and the attendant ducked as four quarters embedded themselves into the bulletproof glass kiosk. A spent cigarette butt splattered against the toll booth's slider.