Hostage Negotiation (Closed)

Reyna held the megaphone in front of her face like it was a microphone transmitting directly to the heavens. Electric energy ran through her veins, charging her whole body with merciless amounts of adrenaline and giving her jitters that were usually reserved for combat situations. Before her, a hectic scene unfurled; a myriad of soldiers and carriages blocked off an otherwise harmless city block and cordoned off the West National Bank from the rest of the street. Spears
and bows were pointed at the doors, as if waiting for anything to come barreling out at any second.

Unfortunately, the problem was that nothing would come out. Inside of the bank were a number of hostages, held captive by an old man who had nothing left to lose.

There were so many things she could say.

So many ways to resolve an otherwise unresolvable situation.

”Uh... you uh... you come out,” she shouted commandingly into the megaphone. ”Before I... uh, come in and... get you?”

There was no immediate answer.

Big trouble in little Crocus, that’s what Gazette was dealing with. Somehow she’d managed to get herself lasso’d into a rather sticky situation. Not good sticky either, like candy. Bad sticky, like garbage. She frowned at her shoes, not sure what the heck was going on, she had just come in looking for a restroom, and she comes out to see a guy with a vest laced with candles strapped on over his clothes.
He said they were bombs, but she wasn’t so sure she bought it. What would some guy wanna go and blow up a building for? Especially in a place like this. The people here were so nice, she hadn’t even worried for a moment about anyone around doing something this crazy. She’d not expect someone to even grab at her fanny, but this guy wanted to blow the place up?

“Well,” Gazette sighed, seeing the man’s less-than-tactful stumble to the front door to see who was shouting through a megaphone at him. “maybe I should try and talk him out of it too. Whoever the Rune Knights had sent to deal with the situation, seemed rather inexperienced.”

“Sir, maybe you should listen to the nice lady outside, she seems to have your best interest at heart.”

“THAT LADY OUTSIDE DOESN’T KNOW ME,” Reginald Mcbenchanson shouted back at the twelve and a half year old. “SHE DOESN’T KNOW MY LIFE.”

This was a true statement, if not an obvious one. Why would a random hostage negotiator know anything about a random bank teller from the equivalent of Fiore’s Wisconsin. Reginald was not a very famous or exciting man and very few people tended to recall his name when they walked by him in the halls, unless it was to call him Smelliginald or Mcpoopchanson. It was infuriating.

“You wouldn’t dare come in here,” Smelliginald shouted into his own megaphone, his fingers still held down on the killswitch for the bombs strapped to him. One slip of the finger, one wrong move or one bad call from the Rune Knights and he would pull that trigger like he was pushing down the nozzle of an entire bottle of whipped cream on a Wednesday night. “I’ll blow all these people to bits!”

”Uh, no -- you won’t,” Reyna shouted back. ”You’d have done that already if you were serious!”

Outside, a rune knight elbowed her hard in the side.

Gazette felt a cold chill run down her spine as the negotiator outside seemed to challenge the bomber. Her face seemed to lose all color and her heart dropped.

“Okay, she’s crazy, I need to step in before she gets us all blown to bits.” Gazette said to herself, under her breath enough that nobody could hear. She swallowed her fear and stood up, bringing the attention of the bomber.

“Excuse me!” She pled, embarrassed and afraid at the same time. She grabbed at her midsection and cried out, “I need to use the restroom!”

She wasn’t sure the strategy would work, but if it did, she’d be one hell of a hero. She couldn’t remember when the last time she actually announced something so personal as that, but she knew it wasn’t recently. There was no need to announce you had to use the restroom outside of preschool. It was quite childish, and that is what embarrassed her so much. She was a grown young lady, and she didn’t need to be acting so childish.

“What, like, you have to... oh, uhm...”

Smelliginald seemed a little caught off guard by the little girl’s unexpected declaration. He couldn’t exactly follow her to the bathroom, which would’ve been super creepy, but he couldn’t exactly just let her walk off either. He could follow her to the door of the bathroom, which was still in sight of the hostages... he nodded and decided on his plan of action.

“No funny business. Follow me to the door,” he muttered, gesturing with his trigger hand. It almost slipped and he made a nervous little laugh.

Outside, Reyna huffed. Her expert negotiation tactics weren’t working to peak effectiveness and she honestly had no idea why.

“Do you think it’s because you suck at negotiating?”

She pursed her lips and brought the megaphone up to them, deeply considering the Rune Knight’s words. She was pretty great at everything, so it couldn’t have been that.

”No,” she said simply. ”He might be terrible at negotiating though. You never really know with these kinds of people.”

She nodded, hesitant to agree to being followed, but only because of the act. She was sure she had what it took to pull it off now. He had taken the bait, and now she was going to be a hero. She followed him to the ladies room, which was still in sight of the hostages. Sadly, this meant that she would not be able to work her magic here, she’d have to somehow lure him into the bathroom with her.

Which, was an incredibly unsettling thought. A man, in the ladies room, with her in there. She stepped inside the bathroom, where she had actually just come from before the bomb threat. If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed this, and her plan would have been ruined. However, she was banking on him to be ill-prepared and fool-hardy.

Gazette simply went inside, and sat on one of the toilets, waiting. Simply put, she was going to be silent, and sit here. Eventually, he’d have to come check on her. When he did, that’s when she’d make her move!

Smelliginald wandered into the bathroom with an empty expression -- or, rather, he would’ve wished it were empty if he could’ve seen it. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth and his eyes were spread out in two different directions, making him look a lot like a twisted up emoticon (:p). He immediately noticed that the door to her stall was closed and that she’d called him in for next to no reason.

In fact, she hadn’t called him in. He was just hallucinating that.

He also noticed a distinctly terrible odor in the air; was she some kind of sicko? He wrinkled his nose up and stepped back in apprehension at the very thought of whatever she might’ve been doing, and accidentally took his thumb off of the trigger for the explosives.

The candles on his chest didn’t react at all, and merely continued to burn on in disregard for whatever nefarious plot he’d had in store. Smelliginald didn’t react either, having not even noticed that he’d taken his fingers off of the trigger.

“This is gross,” he muttered. “You’re a gross kid. Can you hurry up?”

“I want to get on with this hostage situation and get my compensation and go home.”

Gazette sat on top the commode, feet swinging cheerily. She was sure that this was going to go on without a hitch. She was still unsure if the bombs were real or not, but she wanted to take the added precaution and get him away from the rest of the hostages. If he had to come in here, then he’d have to break the line of fire with them.

A few walls wasn’t much to stop an explosion, but it would certainly soften the blow if nothing else. He didn’t seem to want to barge right in, so at least this old guy seemed to have some sense of decency. She clasped her hands together and rested them on her lap. In her head she was screaming, ‘Oh, just get in here already!’

She couldn’t imagine another scenario where that would be something she’d want to happen, or where it’d be something she’d be thinking. In this unique scenario though, it seemed entirely reasonable.

Smelliginald wandered into the bathroom with an empty expression -- or, rather, he would’ve wished it were empty if he could’ve seen it. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth and his eyes were spread out in two different directions, making him look a lot like a twisted up emoticon (:p). He immediately noticed that the door to her stall was closed and that she’d called him in for next to no reason.

In fact, she hadn’t called him in. He was just hallucinating that.

He also noticed a distinctly terrible odor in the air; was she some kind of sicko? He wrinkled his nose up and stepped back in apprehension at the very thought of whatever she might’ve been doing, and accidentally took his thumb off of the trigger for the explosives.

The candles on his chest didn’t react at all, and merely continued to burn on in disregard for whatever nefarious plot he’d had in store. Smelliginald didn’t react either, having not even noticed that he’d taken his fingers off of the trigger.

“This is gross,” he muttered. “You’re a gross kid. Can you hurry up?”

“I want to get on with this hostage situation and get my compensation and go home.”

Gazette let out a sigh of relief as he finally came in. The bathroom smelled awful, she knew that. She was just here. If there was someone in a stall when you came in, you would have assumed they were going #2. She put on her game face and swung open the door.

“What the hell are you doing in here you old smelly pervert! This is a ladies room!” She shouted, stepping out of the stall pretending to be pulling her pants up. She hadn’t been using the facility, but to the man, he would be none the wiser.

“What kind of sicko-- what would your wife and kids think if they heard about this!” She exclaimed, pointing at his wrinkly, twisted face. She brought her hands together, creating a gray magic circle between them. “Iron Make: Chains!”

From her fingertips shot ten iron chains, quickly snaring the old man in place. It was then she noticed he’d taken his finger off the button, and nothing had happened. Her face went pale in disbelief. “T- they were seriously just candles?”