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Marvel: In the Beginning...
Log Title:Blame the Freak
Summary:Jeremy runs into Sasha and takes the blame for her snatch and grab.
Players:Sasha (Scattershot) and Jeremy (Prowl)
Location:NYC
Warnings:PG for simulated swearing.



It is yet another hot and sweltering day. Jeremy could be in a nice air conditioned house with a stocked fridge... but instead he's out here. Wandering about aimlessly because something instinctual won't let him lay there in peace any longer. He's covered up as is usual and is pondering going down to the beach.. or a beach. If only there weren't so many darn people there during the summer!

Sasha isn't pondering anything remotely about a beach. She's instead pondering her next target for a few extra dollars. Trained eyes might see her 'accidentally' bump into a suit, and palm the wallet in the breast coat. She'd been following him for a few blocks, now. She apologizes, and ducks down and disappears through the crowd, to an alley. There, she begins to pilfer through the wallet, looking for cash and ignoring the credit cards and other items that simply won't yield her instant money.

Jeremy is a few paces behind Sasha when the man in the coat realizes he's lost his wallet. He looks around and spots.. Jeremy.. It must have been him! He's the one covered up like some sort of mischief maker! "You! Give me back my wallet!" the irate fellow bellows. Jeremy blinks and glances around who what huh?! "Me? Hey man, I didn't do diddlysquat..."

Sasha hears the voice, and, ditching the rest of the remains of the wallet into a nearby dumpster and pocketing the cash, she smugly leans against the wall, and watches the exchange from afar. By her expression, as long as she isn't taking the blame, everything in the world is fine.

The confrontation continues as Jeremy tries to just back away. He doesn't want trouble. But it appears that's just what he's getting. The man demands to see the teen's face, wanting to know what he's hiding, and of course wanting his wallet back. A few other people stand aside while others circle. Who doesn't like a good fight, or at least who doesn't like to watch one. The feral snorts and tells the man to screw off and attempts to just push his way through when the emboldened man grabs for the back of Jeremy's hoody. It causes the hood to fall back and the teen turns back to glower. "Stop that I didn't take yer #@!in' wallet!!" he shouts as he pulls down his scarf so he can properly snarl and growl at the man.

Okay ... -that-, Sasha wasn't expecting. As Jeremy's features are revealed, she finds herself squinting, watching with actually a bit of interest, now. Her mind begins to wander, trailing off into some thoughts, and she eventually finds her lips curving some into a smile of certainty. She pushes herself off the wall, and starts to approach the man, and Jeremy.

The man and the group in whole seem to take a full step and a half back from the feral. He hisses, whiskers fanned and ears back. "Now just leave me the $#@! alone! God... just wanted to walk down the $#@!in' street. What the hell is your problem?!" and he continues to rant and rave, in a much more coherent way than most would have expected from a talking tiger guy. The guy sans his wallet just stares and murmurs out ".. Well what the hell are we supposed to expect.. walking around like that! Look I'm calling the cops! " and he pulls out his cell phone.

"Things like you shouldn't be wandering around in public anyway!" Taking her time, a leisurely gait to her stride, and moving into a position of vantage where she can see just -what- the heck is going on - she sees the opportunity. And hey, isn't everyone staring at Jeremy, anyways? Not too often you see bipedal talking tiger-men on the street. Stuffing a hand into her pocket she pulls out a single playing card. Holding it between her index and middle finger a quick gesture is made. There's no time to see the card go flying - it's too quick. What does seem to happen to most normal senses is the cellphone is just sliced in half; as if someone's psychic powers were responsible for it. The card, meanwhile, loses it's momentum and empowerment, and ends up falling about twenty yards away to the ground. She comments, rather brazenly, "Damn. That looked like an expensive phone, too."

The man yelps as his phone becomes two. He drops it and looks at Jeremy with both fear and anger. "You freak, you broke my phone! You are going to pay for that!" Jeremy of course could sense something, like he could almost see the card passing. He growls and steps back "I didn't do it!" One of the other people near by says "Hey, you are the only freak here!" Several other bystanders agree.. and a few shout out "Oh come on, leave him alone!"

"Well," argues Sasha mildly, "If he -did- do it," she says, folding her arms, and looking directly at the man, and the few protesters in the crowd, "I'd be glad he didn't just slice my whole hand off, and only just my phone." She shrugs, "But, guess you people aren't attached to your body parts, much as me. Me, I ain't goin' to harass someone who could do somethin' like that. I'm kinda fond of all my body parts bein' attached. But, hey! You people harass him all you want. I'm sure it was just a fluke. Right?"

That point really drains out most people's desire to stick around and continue to harass the mutant. They apparently all left their pitch forks and torches at home anyway. "...... This..isn't..over freak!..I'm going to write the mayor.. and the senator..a nd the presesident! " and with that he storms off, leaving Jeremy just standing there looking rather bewildered. "..... this city is really $#@!in' insane."

"What a nutjob," Sasha declares, smirking, staring at the man's back, but looking entirely amused at the entire event, and how it played out. She gives a quick nod towards Jeremy, "Of course it is. It's New York, freakjob." Though, there's no animosity in her voice, as she deems Jeremy a 'freakjob'. "You can buy me lunch for savin' your ass." It's not really worded, as a request.

Jeremy snorts as people begin to ebb away, washing back out into the tide of traffic. He quickly pulls his hood back up. "Don't call me that.. especially if you want me buyin' you food." he grumbles back at the strange girl.

"Not my fault you look like a freakjob," points out Sasha, with no rancor. It's just a fact, the way the words flow so effortlessly, and callously out of her mouth. She saunters over to pick up her 'lost' playing card, "So what do you want me to call you? Fuzzface? George?" Jeremy's eyes narrow. "... Prowl... you can call me Prowl..." he snorts and begins to walk, just incase some one did call the cops and they are on their way. ".. so how'd you do that.. with the phone" he asks as he covers up his face with the scarf.

"They don't make 'em like they used to," is all she says, not elaborating anymore on her ability. Nor, in fact, does she plan to make commentary on the fact that he took the rap for her stealing the wallet. She snorts in return, "Prowl? Really?" She smirks, "Whatever." She begins to walk at an even pace, to keep up with the other mutant. Jeremy smirks as they stalk along. "There is a hot dog cart down the walk a bit.." he comments. "So what are you called?" he asks, looking her over.

"Depends on whose callin' me. I got a lot of names," she says, thoughtfully. "Bitch is a really popular one. So's Stupid Whore. But I suppose enough people call me Sasha to make that one of my names, too." Yeah, this one has a mouth on her. Free food is free food, and she won't complain it's a hot dog vendor since the kid doesn't look like he's worth much. Still, it's a free dog and a looted wallet to boot. Not bad for a day, so far. So, she seems content with that. "So how many people you killed? Seems like you could be pretty damn dangerous," she points out.

The feral's hidden eyes widen. "Damn girl, what a thing to ask! " he grumbles out. Color him uncomfortable. "... I don't make a habit o' killin' .. people.." he murmurs. He can't actually honestly say. There have been a few times where he knows he was out of his mind. Who knows what happened then? they soon reach the vender and Jeremy orders up his usual 5 dogs, and shrugs towards her "An' whatever she wants too.." Sasha looks back at the man, "Good thing," she agrees, "Habits are hard to break. So, the answer is you lost count, or don't wanna fess up to it. Which is fine." She shrugs, and looks back to the vendor, "Two dogs, with everything," she tells him simply. At least she's not expensive, when eating out. A glance back to you, then. "People generally tend to get upset, when you go around killin' other people," she agrees.


Jeremy frowns, the expression hidden by the scarf as he takes his food and ambles away from the cart, expecting the girl will probably follow. Sooo hungry! "So why'd you bother to stick yer neck out? Ya sure don' look like ya need free lunches.."

Sasha scarfs one of the dogs in a very unladylike fashion. "Free lunches are free lunches," she remarks, candidly. She shrugs, "Besides, I needed some amusement." She smirks, broadly. "And now if I ever need someone's skull cracked, I know where to go." She could be kidding. But, she might not be, too.

Jeremy looks her over again as he turns to go meander down a side street alley. "An' why would you be needin' some one to do somethin' like that? " he asks as he pulls his scarf down so he too can scarf down food.

Sasha shrugs, "Sometimes I make wagers with people. And they call me a cheater, and refuse to pay up. And, I really don't like broadcasting what I am." She frowns, some, at that. "Sure you can appreciate that, well enough."

Jeremy tilts his head and ponders. ".. are you cheatin'?" he asks. Because to him, that is rather relevant.


Sasha gives you a rather incredulous look, "You callin' me a cheater?" Her posture changes, to something rather defensive, and irritation settling into her features.

Jeremy eyes the girl back. "No, that'd suggest I got an opinion...or some proof.. I'm askin' if you did.. It's called investigatin'... " he says with a wide tooth bearing grin.

"Investigate this," she says, offering you her middle finger without any hesitation. "I don't usually cheat." She shrugs, then. Jeremy laughs. He doesn't seem to be too taken a back. "Make sure they don't catch ya then." he comments and stuffs another hot dog into his mouth. NOMNOMNOMNOM!

Sasha eats the second dog a bit more slowly, "Oh, they never catch me," she remarks, easily enough. "I'm too good. They just assume I must be cheating." She rolls her eyes, "They're all #*#$wads."

Jeremy snerks. "Same difference... " he says. "Yer winnin' too often.. " he chuckles, licking some mustard off his fingers. "Why don't ya just find some other way to make money... one that don' involve men who break yer knees fer a livin'?"

Sasha shrugs some, "Ain't no one going to hire me to do nothin'," she says, brazenly, honestly. She smirks, "At least, not without using my little gift. And, I really don't like advertising, if you know what I mean. Jerks."


ftb

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