InsaneJournal

Who: Brooke, Jessica, Trevor ( by mention ). NPCs to feature.
What: Just another day at the bank
When: Evening
Where: Bank of New York, New York
Warnings: Depends on what this crew thinks up~

As a portion of the oldest financial service in New York, the Bank of New York on Madison Avenue was a fine and upstanding building. The bank's ownership was currently in flux, but there was no sign of any of that administrative side today--only the stream of local people moving in and out to accomplish some part of their day's errands and move on. As it was growing near the end of the work day, the crowd was thinning, and the employees were making furtive glances at the clock, feeling the slow movement of the minute hand as they anticipated being released to their homes in only so much more.

Of those still inside, there was a portly older man in some kind of heated argument with the assistant manager. From what those curious enough to look over had discovered, he wasn't too happy with the state of whatever had been in his deposit box and was demanding some kind of compensation. It was the only excitement in the place so far, and wasn't even much at that. The man was stuttering more than he was scaring the assistant, who answered all of his demands with the calm generic replies right from a manual.

Three employees were still at their counters. Two women, one man. Their name-tags said they were Angela, Therese, and Brad. Their faces said they were bored. Only Therese smiled as she leaned forward to help the next man in her line--an older gentleman with a wizened face, and yet still some charisma in him as he smiled back at her. He didn't look around at all while the shouting was going on but stayed focused on getting his own business done with. Behind him, a woman was irritated. She kept checking her watch and then sighing loudly, as if that would help speed things along.

All in all, a very typical crowd for the end of the day at a bank in the middle of New York city. There at the very edge sat the one security guard, yawning, as he watched the door and fiddled with his keys as if his fingers unconsciously itched to lock the doors already.