The One In Which Alex Punches Out A Thief [feat. Riley]

When the day started off rather well, Alex had a feeling it would eventually come tumbling down and burning to a fine ash all around him and everyone else in the general vicinity. So when he had decided to take his motorcycle down to the farmers market that sprang up around the West District every weekend to restock his personal fridge with food, the last thing he expected to be involved in was a commotion that sprang up because some street rat decided to steal from a stand. Said street rat was also dumb enough to get caught in the act of running away, which soon lead to him bumping into people and shoving them aside.

Unfortunately for him (the street rat), the boy had reached Alexander and caused him to end up wearing a carton of eggs that Alex just bought. So you could only imagine how the temperamental Alexander reacted when the eggs had ruined his shirt and the brand new pack of cigarettes he had just purchased earlier in the day. Not only did he just lose the object he needed for his restitution, but he had also just opened the pack in an attempt to ebb his addiction habit that the restitution created.

Teeth ground against one another as Alex worked his jaw, his lips pressed into a thin line.His right eye twitched subtly as he stood there stewing in the yolk covered shirt, while he contemplated what he'd do to the boy when he caught him. Finally deciding that murder wasn't worth it, Alex placed the cigarette he was smoking back in his mouth and peeled off the shirt before slipping back into his blazer. It still had yolk on it, but not to the same extent. Sending the boy to the hospital would be as far as he'd go, since it wouldn't be in his character to let the thief go unharmed.

"Which way did that punk go?" Alex asked to no one in general, hoping that someone would point him in the right direction. Unless, of course, they weren't turned away by the possibly crackling electricity at his fingertips or the pseudo-slasher smile that was curving his lips as he entertained the thought of landing a right hook (with brass knuckles) across the boy's jaw. At least he was already smoking as his powers took to freely displaying itself. It saved him the trouble of pulling out another stick or threatening someone else for one. He pulled out a pair of gloves to slip over his hands just in case, because the last thing he needed was more than one charge of assault.

Riley did his best to attend the weekly farmers market, sometimes to buy some fruit here and there, sometimes to mingle with the locals, and usually to see if he could make a few extra credits by helping with the cleanup. His nature as a harbinger did make the people wary at first, though over time they grew used to it. Well, some of the vendors did, at least, but it was better than nothing.

He had been talking to one of the more sympathetic vendors – a woman in her sixties with graying hair – when he heard a shout from the next stand over. Riley looked up just in time to see a boy – maybe couple years younger than him – dart past, clutching something in his hand and leaving a rather angry man behind. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, and he took a brief moment to apologize to the lady before heading after the kid. Under different circumstances, he might’ve left the street rat alone, but there was a chance that catching the thief would win him brownie points with the stand owners.

Unfortunately, his restitution really hated running, and he knew it. After a couple of steps he stopped, pulling down his bandanna with one hand and taking out and using his inhaler with the other. It would do for the while, at least. A moment later he was on the move again, medication back in his pocket as he did his best not to crash into anyone, though muttering a quick apology to them as he passed.

The street rat was fast, though not exactly subtle about where he was going. The irritation of people that had been shoved gave a pretty good indication of his path, at least. Though Riley was nowhere near him, he could at least follow the boy.

But the sight of a dark-haired man in a somewhat eggy blazer made Riley falter, causing him to stumble slightly before he managed to regain his balance. He looked at the man again, frowning at the sight of a cigarette. Not the helpful of things, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. What was equally – or perhaps just slightly more – concerning was the murderous grin on the man’s face. The electricity on his fingers did not help, though the gloves that soon covered them provided the opposite and better effect.

Riley answered the man’s question on impulse, pointing in the direction he had seen the street rat run off in. “Over there, sir.” The dark haired man seemed capable, if not slightly too eager, of handling a thief, and the help would be nice. He waited just a moment to see how the stranger would react before turning away, intent on catching the boy. Whether or not the man went through with his implied threat was not his problem. Hopefully.

Over there, sir.

Alex's lips twisted into a scowl as a younger boy had answered him. He was not a sir. Nor did he favor people under the age eighteen, since his mind likened all people who weren't legal as the same. It was just as bad as how normal people seemingly likened all Harbingers as the same, when most of them weren't relatively bad. They were mutants. Freaks. That was just as well, since it kept the majority of people out of his hair and he liked it that way. But then there were people like this street rat that had inadvertently ruined his day, which made things less as well and made him want to fix it. Even if fixing it involved a lot of pain.

Over there, sir.

The phrase echoed in his head and Alex glanced over to check if the boy was still there only to find him moving after the street rat as well. His scowl deepened, but the man pushed the shades he was wearing (that he always wore out in public) up the bridge of his nose before following suit. His now gloved hands slipped into the pocket of his blazer, the ruined shirt forgotten in some nearby trash bin. He had more, so loosing a shirt wasn't a big deal. No, this was personal.

This was for the cigarettes.

"So why're you going after this guy?" Alex asked as he caught up with the boy that pointed him in the direction of the street rat. The street rat was easy enough to follow, since he was leaving a trail of angry people in his wake, but Alex would start running soon (even if the smoking made it hard after so many years). Alex had his reasons to go after the street rat, but a part of his mind was curious why someone else would. Because, really, who got off on being an upstanding citizen?

Riley glanced over, surprised that he was being spoken to and even more so by the fact that the man cared about what some harbinger kid’s motivation was. Then again, maybe the guy just wanted to get his hands on the thief first and wanted to see if Riley would be an obstacle in that. He didn’t really mind if the man got to the street rat first, as long as he could say that he helped in some way.

“Just keeping on the market’s good side. I do a bit of work here, now and aga –” He broke off suddenly, turning away and coughing, holding the bandanna around his neck over his mouth and nose. Ah yes, the guy was smoking. Shit. “Sorry, asthma,” he mumbled, the words muffled even further by the cloth. Well, technically not asthma, but it was shorter and less complicated than saying “your smoking is killing me by setting off my restitution”.

Breathe, Riley, you’ll be just fine. Possibly.

Trying to ignore the heavy feeling on his chest, he took the time to retie the bandanna around his face, pausing in his step as he did so. It wouldn’t help much, but it was better than just breathing in smoke. As he made sure he could still breathe without wheezing to death, he waved a hand towards the street rat, attempting to signal that the man should go on ahead. He’d follow behind as soon as he could, but breathing was more important for now.

"Asthma. 's that so?" Alex drawled as he fixed the boy with a blank expression. He was half tempted to puff out a smoke ring in his direction, but the man wasn't that big of a dick. Though if he was killing the kid, that would probably be worse than a charge of assault. Sure his rep sheet was probably a mile long by now after twenty six years on this hellish planet, but he didn't want to be known as the 'guy that killed that one kid with a puff of smoke', even if that was highly unlikely and completely ridiculous.

So, with a heavy heart, Alex dropped the stick and crushed it under his shoe. His restitution should have been paid by then, but this just meant the he couldn't fry the street rat when they caught up to him. Grimacing, Alex glanced at the younger boy who had just now pulled a bandanna out to cover his face. "Better?" he asked, his hands slipping into his pockets and pulling out a toothpick to chew on. Just because the cigarette was gone didn't mean that his oral fixation craving had ebbed away.

The street rat caught his attention as he ducked out of the alley he was lurking in and Alex's eyes narrowed slightly. There was a snapping noise as his teeth gnashed the toothpick, causing him to spit it out before he either swallowed it by accident or splintered his tongue. His gloved kept his powers in check, but dammit, he wanted another cigarette now. Alex wondered what the boy's name was, but didn't bother asking, since then he'd just have a name to assign all the misplace faults on. Instead he pulled out another toothpick and chewed on it, trying to keep both his anger and fixation in check again. He would have run after the street rat, but that probably wasn't smart after just having a cigarette since he'd probably sound like Asthma Kid over there if he had an attack.

Riley refrained from sighing in relief when he saw that the man had actually put out the cigarette, giving him a nod instead. “Thanks.” He didn’t remove the bandanna though; there was still a bit of smoke hanging in the air, and he wasn’t about to take any chances.

He glanced over at where the thief had last been, just able to catch a glimpse of the boy disappearing around the corner. Just about to ask if they should pursue, the sudden sound of wood snapping in two startled him into looking back at the man, blinking a couple of times as the broken toothpick was quickly replaced by another. “Are…you okay?” he asked, taking a half step back on instinct. The last thing Riley wanted was an electric fist to the face just because he happened to be in reach.

Shifting his weight onto one foot, he looked away for a moment before back up at the man. “Sorry about slowing you down, by the way.” He had the feeling that the street rat would be in quite a bit of pain if the guy hadn’t been distracted. “You seemed like you actually wanted to catch him.” Riley wasn’t sure if murderous intentions were any better than his own selfish one, but judging by the psychopathic smile earlier, the man seemed a lot more motivated.

He wasn’t too sure why he was talking with him, but it seemed more a hell lot more polite than turning and running, especially since the man had been fairly considerate about the smoking thing. Even if the guy was pretty intimidating with his sunglasses and frown.

"I'm fine," Alex drawled out, his expression flat as he walked beside the boy. He was just annoyed. That's all. It wasn't like Riley was slowing him down any, but it wasn't like he could have just chased after the street rat on his motorcycle. That was bound to have gotten the police chasing after him as well, unless they were too comfortable sitting on their asses to do anything. Plus hitting other civilians wasn't really on his agenda. He only had one person that he wanted to hit or otherwise maim.

“Sorry about slowing you down, by the way. You seemed like you actually wanted to catch him.”

"Don't worry about it," Alex sighed, before his lips curved into another cold smile. He'd still get him, since the boy's face was rather clear in his mind. His outfit was too, but it was gang colours if he remembered correctly. Diamond Dust was the major syndicate in this part of the Substratum, but he didn't know if the kid was really part of that gang or just some idiot dumb enough to fly their colours. Or maybe he just liked wearing what he did. "I'll still catch him. It'll just take a little longer," he added as what almost seemed like an afterthought.

As the waded the crowd of disgruntled people, Alex glanced back over to look at Asthma Kid. "So, kid, what's your power? You are a Harbinger after all, right?" He knew about restitution and everything, wasn't completely turning away from Alex and seemed to have more knowledge than he was letting on. He wondered, however, if the kid had some kind of lame power though. Or a really good one if he got stuck with someone shitty like asthma.

Riley relaxed ever so slightly – which is to say degrading from alarmed to at least not visually anxious, so he hoped – nodding as the man claimed to be alright. Maybe he was just always like this, and displeased with the world in general? He was civil enough towards Riley, at least.

He felt a bit bad for the street kid, with this guy on his tail. The man seemed like the type capable of holding grudges for a long, long time, though he supposed that the boy sort of deserved it for stealing. Riley himself hadn’t sunken that low just yet and tried to stay within legal activities. Well, for the moment, and hopefully for some time. The ever raging conflict between survival and morals continued on.

At the question, though, he looked up at the man – he really needed to find out his name at some point – and gave a small nod. The guy was a harbinger as well (unless he had Tasers surgically implanted in his fingers, which would be…interesting, to say in the least), making him slightly more trustworthy than the normal folks all around. Trustworthy enough to admit ‘yes, I’m a harbinger; I wonder if you could you tell by the eyes?’ Though, that last bit probably couldn’t be conveyed with a simple nod. Violet and cyan eyes tended to be a dead giveaway, and Riley needed to invest in some sort of eyewear, like the man’s sunglasses or that one girl’s goggles.

“I’m able to replicate anything I hear, as long as I remember it.” Which wasn’t anything more than a play toy when copying birds or dogs when he first discovered it, but it quickly got more interesting with…other sounds. Like alarms and sirens and gunshots. He had still yet to try any experiments with shattering glassware, but after the university student had suggested things similar to it he’d been eager to try it out. For the time being though…yeah, his power was not terribly useful in protecting himself or attacking thieving street rats. Lightning fingers, on the other hand…