How to exploit.

[charles]

Well, the Agent of the Academy had dropped him off here. Someone was going to pick up. The Agent, whose name he never really learned, or cared to learn, probably had better things to do.

It occurred to Charles that the Agent hadn't been very bright to leave ex-con, ex-addict, ex-child prisoner alone on the streets. But perhaps this was a test. He looked at his hands, small hands, and noticed that a piece of nail wasn't bitten off yet. He bit it off and grinded the piece of nail while looking happily over the streets. Ah, why not, he might have some fun with this city. Exploit some people, have some fun. He had never really changed after being in the facility. They tried to better him and his old supervisor, Amelie Chinaski, a bore of a woman, thought she had been succesful. Hah. Crazy woman. He looked around the streets and looked at the 'normal' people. He had learned that he was a 'gifted'. He did not yet know the magnitude of this and he just thought of it as another way to hustle. He could kill people, nobody will ever try to mess with him again.

Slowly putting his bag down, he reached for his pocket. His favorite brand of cigarettes. The trademark 'click' of his zippo lighted his cancerstick. He sat down and looked down the streets once again. He did not see people, he saw piggy banks. While he valued friendship and love even more, he valued money a lot as well. Not because he wanted to be rich, but it was his way of saying 'look, I'm good at something'. But for now, he must wait. Someone would pick him up, right?

"Right?" he said aloud.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

"There is a God," Neilen muttered gratefully upon hearing the familiar click of a zippo opening. He had just stepped out of a meeting with some 'associates', as they were so tenderly referred to, and was absolutely dying for a smoke. However, his stupid plastic piece of crap lighter was out of fluid. Usually he kept a spare in the car, but he'd taken more stealthy means of transportation to the meeting so he wouldn't be tailed.

Luckily, it was only about thirty seconds until he'd spotted the kid with the lighter. He never liked seeing kids smoking, but hell if he was going to complain about a light being a stone's throw away. As far as he was concerned, the kid could smoke four packs a day if it meant Neilen didn't have to go another minute without a cigarette.

"Right," he distractedly answered, suddenly questioning his saviour's sanity. Still, sanity or not, that was a lighter. "K-... Kan I borrow that?" he asked, gesturing to the lighter. He'd almost called the kid 'kid', but he wasn't sure how well that would have flown with him. Normally he'd say to hell with it and call the kid 'kid' anyway, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Neilen was not an Agent. Neilen was probably the farthest thing from an Agent you could find. In fact, if an Agent were around, Neilen would be gone in a flash. Neilen was much more like this kid than who the kid was waiting for. If Neilen knew the kid was waiting for an Agent, he would have either left long ago, or would have already told the kid the Academy is bad news and left.

However, he did not know this. All he knew was the kid had something he wanted, and that meant they'd be sharing company for at least a moment or two.

[charles]

Charles tilted his head to the person who approached. A rather strong fellow, it seemed. And a smoker. Charles always told himself that the only people you could really trust on this planet, were smokers and drinkers. They were bad to some degree, and they could see flaws in other persons better than the holy monks in the church.

"This?" And he showed his Zippo. Of course he meant that, but Charles loved coming off as stupid. This meant that people would tell him more, since they thought he wouldn't get it anyway. He then grinned. Not today. Let's try to act normal.

"Of course you meant this." And he shook the Zippo. "Sure." He extended his hand to the man and nodded. He was a strange man, in a way. It looked as if he was really craving for a cigarette. Oh well, he had some time to kill, he might as well have some small talk with the man.

"What brand you smoke? If I may ask, of course." He eagerly waited for the man to light his cigarette and show his pack. You can tell a lot of a man by what kind of brand he smoked. Sissies always smoked lights.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

Neilen raised a questioning eyebrow when the kid asked if he meant the lighter, but before he could say anything along the lines of 'of course I mean the f**king lighter, you idiot' or something equally as rude and impatient, the kid dropped the act. Or snapped out of a daydream, who knows. He had just been talking to himself, after all.

Instead, the kid got a mumbled 'thanks' and the great joy of watching Neilen light up. The kid's question was met with silence while he took a deep drag, paused for a long moment, and finally exhaled contentedly. "I smoke whatever falls into my lap," he replied unconcernedly. What he meant, of course, is that he smoked whatever he had stashed away or had already stolen. Hell if he was paying for cigarettes at the prices they were at these days.

"But I prefer (Insert expensive brand here. I guess I'd say duMaurier, but I don't know if they have them in the US) if I have a choice. You?"

He really didn't mind the conversation. It was light, first of all, which was nice after a meeting where the wrong word at the wrong time could get you killed. And secondly, it gave him something to do while he smoked. Smoking was all fine and great, sure, but it was boring as hell just standing there waiting for a tube of paper and dried tobacco leaves to burn.

He hadn't met the kid's eyes until then, standing more or less at his side, but he glanced sidelong, then, noting that the kid seemed awfully polite for, well, a kid. Weren't they supposed to be all slang and whatnot? He supposed it was probably the media jerking him around again, but he never expected 'If I may ask, of course' from a teenager. It was kind of nice to be respected by the kid (because that's what he saw it as, respectfulness).

[charles]

Charles seemed to think about the question the man asked, but that, again, was an act. He already knew what brand he liked. Gauloises. Good, old Gauloises. God, he loved those French cigarettes. He had never been to France, but he surely wanted to see Paris one day. All those people smoking these wonderful cigarettes and drinking these wonderful wines. He would have a ball there. He would also hustle and exploit as much as he could, because that's how he rolled. He looked at the man. He seemed slightly dangerous, but he doubted that the man would cause him any harm in public. He just needed to get this man attention.

"Why, I smoke Gauloises... sir. It's the best brand in business." He smiled and looked at the man now. It seemed he rather enjoyed the respect he gave. Then again, all adults liked that. Rule one of exploiting: get the victim on your side.

"But your brand sounds... nice." He smiled again and shrugged. He didn't know the brand at all. He had vaguely heard of it, but that was that. He then slowly extended his arm, the gesture meant that he would gladly like his Zippo back. He looked at the man. You could see that his brain was working by the way his eyes were all over the strange man's face. After a decent analysis he decided to stand up, just like the man. Charles was enjoying his cigarette.

"What's your name, sir?" He asked politely, still waiting with an extended arm for the Zippo.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

Neilen knew Gauloises. He'd spent the past year or so in Europe, and at least a couple clients had smoked them. The kid had good taste, another surprise. Most kids would smoke whatever they could get their grimy little under-aged hands on. There was definitely something different about this one. He was no regular kid, that was for sure. It put Neilen on his guard, made his thoughts a little more cautious, but it also piqued his curiosity. What was this kid's deal?

In reply to the naming of the brand, he simply nodded and took another puff of his cigarette, still thinking. It was almost creepy, how polite the kid was being. It reminded him of greasy con-men, sweet talking their way to riches, but he really hoped this kid wasn't trying to con him. That just wouldn't end well, regardless of how good the kid was. Neilen had a temper, and 'friends' in high places, not the ideal person to mess with.

The other possibility was that the kid recognized him, and was trying to get in his good books. This face hadn't been on the news lately, or in the paper, he'd been limiting his activity to other guises, but if the kid really knew his sh**, he'd recognize the man from other places. America's most wanted, for one thing. Interpol, if he was really with it. Maybe the kid wanted a piece of the action. That was intriguing, too, but kids were a pain.

He snapped out of it as he noticed the kid was looking at him. He hadn't caught the arm being extended, at first, which was a bad sign; he was thinking too much. But the eyes he felt, like lances of fire singeing his face. He could always feel the eyes on him. He caught the meaning of the outstretched arm, though. "Oh, sh**, sorry." He handed the zippo back over. "Thanks."

Then the kid asked his name. With a 'sir', no less. Weird, but he'd already been over that. This part would be the real test. His name was everywhere. There was no face to it, just as there was no name to his face on the wanted lists, but the name held a lot of sway, in the local business and in the greater scheme of things. And yet it wouldn't ring any bells to some punk from the local highschool who only thinks he's tough. As conceited as even he knew it would seem, this is how Neilen would gauge whether or not the kid knew what he was getting into.

"...a name is a powerful thing, kid," he said, no longer iffy about calling the kid what he was now that he'd got that light he wanted. He didn't offer any explanation for this comment, though, just a moment of silence to let it sink in.

"Neilen Darkshire," he said, without any sense of gravity. As an afterthought, "And don't even think about calling me Mr. Darkshire. It's Neilen." He wasn't sure how much more of this politeness that he was sure by now was an act he could put up with.

He didn't ask the kid's name. Frankly, he didn't think it matter enough to waste the breath on. If the kid wanted Neilen to know his name, he'd say it. If he didn't, there was no point asking anyway. Unless this was the son of one of Neilen's partners or something, the name wouldn't really matter yet.

My apologies, this seems terribly disjointed to me. Probably lack of sleep getting to me

[charles]

(Nah, it's good. Neilen is starting to scare me. )

Charles nodded when he got the Zippo back. He normally was a potty mouth himself, but somehow the way the man said it, made him flinch. He sensed that this man had a very short fuse. All it needed was a little spark and the bomb could explode. He had to be careful with this one. He could try to steal the man's wallet, but hadn't exercised for so long. In the 'facility' he had only been able to trick people with cards, games and stupid bets. It felt great to be given a real challenge again. He watched the man closely as he smoked. The man finally gave his name. Neilen Darkshire. Weird name. It then occurred to Charles that there actually might be other gifted. But how do they recognise each other? They all look so... normal.

He put the Zippo back in his pocket. While thinking he had been toying with it, running it through his fingers. That was strike one. If the other was observant, he noticed the speed of his fingers and wrist. It betrayed that he was good at tricking someone. Charles thought he wouldn't have noticed. The man didn't ask his name. This man was used to a tougher world. At first his polite act had worked, but it was time to act slightly ruder to get this man's trust.

"Okay Neilen, whatever you say, haha." He laughed and lit another cigarette. He was a quick smoker. "My name's Charles." He nodded at the man and didn't go for a handshake. That was too polite and he shuddered at the idea of giving a hand to this man. Somehow, the man 'felt' dangerous.

"You like gambling, Neilen?" Charles asked out of the blue. The man was almost finished with his cigarette and if he wanted to hone his skills a bit he had to do it now. He showed his sweetest smile, but if you were observant, with almost inhuman skill, you could see greed in his eyes. The games had begun.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

Yeah, he varies from nice guy to BAMF depending on the situation, really

Even to someone who didn't make a habit of subtly watching other people, playing with a zippo would be a good way to attract their attention. With all the flashing and catching the light, you might as well shine a flashlight in their eyes and get it over with. However, the kid's dexterity didn't really worry Neilen.

For one thing, he didn't carry anything valuable, or even personally identifiable, on him. Apart from his clothes and his sunglasses, the only thing he had on him was his pack of smokes and a pad of paper with an address on it, in the inner pocket of his jacket, and a knife strapped to his ankle in case the meeting he'd come out of had gone south.

However, even if he didn't make a habit of leaving important things in safe places, he rarely had to worry about petty thieves anyway; being a Lycan gave him superhuman senses on top of his own natural reflexes. He could probably break the average pickpocket's wrist before they got within inches of him.

But these things weren't even on his mind at the moment. What was on his mind was that this kid was a heavier smoker than he was. That, or he was just nervous. Either way, though, it didn't bode well for the kid's future. Charles' future, apparently. Sounded like an old man's name. 'Kid' suited him much better.

"Hate it," he answered, in a very matter-of-fact manner. "I don't like losing. I prefer more definite means of making money." He took one last puff of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and grinding it out with his toe. "Like taking it from punk kids."

His smile was playful, joking even, but his eyes flashed with something much more dangerous. A warning, perhaps.

"But if you've got an interesting proposition for me, I'm listening."

[charles]

"Haha, Neilen." Charles shook his head. His tone was playful. Neilen's words looked like a threat but then again, he didn't carry any money on him anyway. Just like Neilen. There wasn't a lot of money to be stolen from this punk. He only brought a few things within his bag. Clothes and books. That was it. And cigarettes. And cards. And dice. He tilted his head again and looked at the big, tough man. He was strange. He was friendly, yet, as said before, he had this certain kind of danger shimmering underneath. Charles liked it.

"Oh, I don't know. What are you willing to lose? Let's say... your cigarettes for my Zippo."

He showed a crooked smile and winked. He was enjoying this. There was no way that this man would beat him at his own game. While smiling and looking at the man, he got his cards out and started shuffling them really clumsily. It almost looked as if he had never touched cards before in his life. His hands were shaking and Charles spat out his cigarette. He didn't had his hands free, so he had been smoking the cigarette with fast puffs, through the side of his mouth. Humprey Bogart style. After the cards had been shuffled he put took only three. A king, a queen and a joker. He put them on the ground. And looked back up to Neilen. He smiled at him and lit another cigarette.

"The Joker. Find it and you'll get my Zippo. If not, I'll get your cigarettes."

He could barely contain his chuckling and he observed the man's face. It was blank. Somewhere, in the back of his head, he knew he shouldn't be messing with the man. But it was stronger than himself.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

Neilen winked subtly when the kid laughed, but even that gesture had a dark undertone to it. Neilen was hamming it up a little, sure, but he really wasn't much less blatantly threatening on regular occasions, if one cared to pay attention. Everything the man did spoke volumes about who he was, from the way he walked, listening keenly to everything around him and watching his peripherals like a hawk, to the way he smiled, a gesture that could be equal parts warm or menacing depending on the situation. Living the life he did didn't allow for anything less.

"My cigarettes?" Neilen repeated. Not a big loss, really. The zippo wasn't a huge gain either, though, but he supposed it just made that a fair trade. "Alright, I'm game."

He didn't believe for a moment the kid was as clumsy as he looked. That meant he was either nervous, hopped up on some serious sh**, or acting. And with con men, it was usually acting. He was almost insulted that the kid was trying to pull the wool over his eyes. He may have wormed his way into the world of crime in an especially backhanded manner, but he'd still had to pay his dues as a small time con man. Sleight of hand had never been his forte, but he had charisma aplenty to make up for it.

When the kid had finished the performance and the set up, Neilen simply nodded in acknowledgment of the terms, and waited for the con to begin, his arms crossed in front of him and a bemused look on his face.

[charles]

Something was bothering Charles. The man was smiling. Not in the amused way, but in the confident way. The bad way. He didn't like it. He didn't show his worries, and flipped the cards around. The Joker was the last card he turned. He looked back up and smiled once again. He decided to talk while moving the cards over the ground. This usually distracted people. He also tried to make eye-contact with the man, just for one second, so that he will lose trace of the Joker.

"So, yeah, I'm supposed to be picked up here. Nobody's coming, though. I think they forgot about me." He moved the cards and kept looking at Neilen. His hands were moving faster and he was waiting for the right moment to put the Joker in his sleeve and let another card fall out. He had trained this. He just hoped he wasn't too rusty after all these months.

"I'm going to a new school. An academy for special peope, I was told. Some guy interviewed me in my previous, err, 'school'." He laughed. It hadn't been a real school, it had been near to a prison. Problem Youth was reformed there. He kept moving and decided the moment was there, while moving his cards faster and faster he kept chattering about this and that while he within a second the Joker slipped into his right sleeve and a duplicate King fell out. This all happened in a blur. He then played with the cards a little longer and stopped.

He stood up and looked down at the cards.

"I was told I'm not a good member of society." He showed his biggest smile at Neilen and one could see it was genuine smile. Different from the other smiles. He then bit another nail off and looked at Neilen.

"What will it be? Neilen? The left? The middle? Or the right one?"

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

Neilen didn't take a second look at the cards.

He stared straight into the kid's eyes the whole time, the expression on his face unchanging; a sort of amused half-smile that betrayed little about what he was actually thinking. What he was actually thinking being 'Make conversation, move your hands more than necessary to attract attention to them. Get them to watch you, not the cards...' the sort of tips he'd learned back in his own days as a con man. Talking was his thing. They always seemed to make eye contact with him when he talked.

Not that any of this explained why he was running right into the kid's trap. The cards could have all been gone and he wouldn't have blinked; he wasn't even watching them in his peripherals. There was something else going on, though; his shoes had just changed. Not exactly earth-shattering, but he was no longer wearing the same pair of dress-shoes he had been a moment ago. They were still black, still looked brand new, but the style was definitely different. There was another, less visible change, too, but he was saving that for later.

The whole time this was happening, he nodded and/or conversed along with the kid's commentary.

"Ditched huh? That sucks. Make sure you give them a piece of your mind."

"Good luck with that. Academy for special people? Sounds like fun."

"Good members of society are the ones you have to watch out for. They can do anything. At least you can trust a crook to be a crook."

And even as he heard the kid speaking, it occurred to him that he knew of an Academy for special people in the immediate area. If that was what the kid was talking about, and he had a sneaking suspicion it was, then he needed to get out of there before whoever was picking the kid up, picked him up.

Or maybe he should interfere...

But the time had come for him to make his move; the kid was asking him to make his choice. Finally, slowly, looking down at the card, he pointed randomly at one; the middle one. "That one," he said, looking up to meet the kid's eyes. But then, in an instant, he scooped the three cards together, flipped them all over, and fanned them out, face-up. He didn't even need to look to know the joker wasn't there.

"Looks like you got me, kid," he said, as though he didn't care about the trick that had been played. He threw his smokes to the kid. "Those are yours now. But I've got to get out of here. You up for a drink, or you gonna wait around for your ...ride?"

Might as well let the kid pick where this would go. If he came with him, though, he'd get to see the look on the kid's face when he opened the pack of cigarettes and found a joker identical to the one in his sleeve in it.

This post makes next to no sense, and I don't even mean because of the trick xD That was just a shapeshifter thing I took liberties with ^^

[charles]

(Haha, random shapeshifting, eh? Showoff )

When Neilen was still moving the cards around he was getting uncomfortable. The men just kept staring. Not the good kind. He knew he could grab someone's attention by talking, that was the point of it all, but this man... he just... stared. As if he knew he was getting played with. Then again, who was playing with whom at this point? When the man flipped all his cards around, Charles almost made a run for it. He kept his cool and looked back up. When the man threw his pack of cigarettes and just looked at him, he almost flinched. His feelings had been right about this guy. He was someone you don't mess with. Somehow he did not receive a beating or a scolding and the man even invited him for a drink. He didn't sense a threath nor trickery in this.

He stood up and gathered his stuff, remaining silent all the time. He was slightly baffled. This hadn't happened to him in a long time. And when he looked at the man, something had changed. Perhaps his shoes? He couldn't remember. Then again, shoes don't change randomnly, so he dismissed the thought. When he had finally gathered all his belongings, he opened the pack of cigarettes from Neilen. A joker, indentical to his own was inside. He almost froze. He remained silent and then smiled.

"Neilen Darkshire. I'll remember that name." He took a cigarette out and put the joker in his pocket. He looked around and still didn't see anyone coming for him. He was forgotten, it seemed. The Academy sounded shittier every moment he thought about it. He slowly nodded.

"Okay, Neilen, I'm in for that drink. No soda. Real stuff. You'll have to order, I'm afraid." He smiled and reached for his pocket, revealing only 3 dollars. He put the three dollars away and at analysed Neilen again. He looked at his facial expression, his clothing, everything. He couldn't find anything out of order, but yet... he sensed something.

"How did you know I was hustling you? You're a con yourself?" He puffed at his cigarette and followed Neilen to a nearby pub. He was getting thirsty. He was actually glad he met this guy. Maybe he could learn some new tricks, that would be a-okay, allright.

"Sorry I tried to frame ya. But as you said, a crook's a crook." And then he winked.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

I am occasionally known to indulge in show-offery, yes. Though I often end up applying too much and it begins to resemble that's-just-ridiculosity.

"Some time later you'll have to show me that again, only when I'm paying attention. I didn't get to see how good you are at it. It's in your sleeve, right?" he asked as the kid gathered his things. That would be the most common place for it, but Neilen was much more familiar with the shell-and-ball trick, and people often varied tricks to avoid getting caught.

He watched with satisfaction as the kid found the joker, and grinned when he said he'd remember the name. "Good, but I'd be careful how you use it. I've got as many enemies as friends; being associated with me is just as likely to get you killed as it is to get you ahead in life."

He laughed at the 'no soda' comment, but otherwise ignored it. He figured it was a joke anyway; the notion that the pair of them would go for sodas was certainly entertaining, at the very least. "Of course I'm buying. You think I'd invite you for drinks and make you pay? I have a little class." It was a good thing they were where they were, because he didn't feel like going to his apartment to get money, but they happened to be near a bar he had a tab at.

They were walking and talking now, Neilen slightly in front and turning his head to speak and/or listen to Charles. "I prefer 'Optional-Legality Entrepreneur', but pretty much, yeah. And I really can't blame you. We're all just trying to make a buck, you know?"

It wouldn't be long before the tavern came into view. It managed to pull off the seedy look and yet show signs of class at the same time; Neilen's sort of place.

[charles]

Before entering Charles threw his cigarette on the ground and butted it out with his heels. He kept grinding till there only was a little bit of the inside of the filter left and smiled with satisfaction. 'Optional-Legality Entrepeneur'. Heh. Where does this guy get these jokes from. Charles was glad he met this guy and not some uptight Agent, taking him away to some school. He would've wanted to learn how to use his powers, though, but he liked hustling even more. Ah, only time would tell how things would turn out. Knowing himself, probably pretty bad.

"And, eh, yeah, sure, I'll show you the trick some time. We could share some tricks if you want. I'm especially good with loaded dice. I design them myself. People don't notice the difference in weight. Not even the so-called specialists. Heh. 'Specialists'." He entered with Neilen and they found a table. They both sat down and Charles enjoyed the scenery of the tavern. It wasn't entirely his style, but he liked it. He was used to washed out places, with the local teenage thugs acting cool and all that. He never was a big fan of violence, but that kind of places were excellent for finding strong arms when you lacked them. Muscles were for hire. Looking quickly at the menu, he decided what he wanted. He had actually already known what he wanted before he entered. Just a nice, cold, big beer. He was glad Neilen was paying. Good man, truly a good man. After a short silence, Charles looked up to Neilen and looked at him in that weird way again.

"You're a weird man, Neilen. I'm having this weird... suspicion, that you're more than a common thug or con or a, haha, 'Optional-Legality Entrepreneur'...."

Charles didn't know how to put his words in this one, but he while he was waiting for the drink, he decided to ask him about it anyway.

"You seemed to be, errr, how should I put this... 'investigating' me? Like I did? Only I was trying to find your weaknesses, because, honestly, I was just trying to get your cigarettes and steal your wallet. I'm sorry for that, too, because you're a pretty swell guy and all that. Do you know something about me that I don't?" He smiled and was glad he find the good words. He hoped that the school would come to Neilen's mind. Neilen had shown great interest in Charles, so there must at least be something that Charles' had said or done that made him interesting enough. Then again, Neilen could just be an okay guy who liked chatting with random strangers who tried stealing their cigarettes and money. Or maybe he was just being friendly because they both were hustlers. The difference was that Neilen was, or claimed to be, a pretty big hustler. A gangster, perhaps? Charles was eager to ask if Neilen knew something about the school he was going to. Charles knew he was supposed not to tell anyone about the Academy, but so far the Agent that brought him, had barely told him about it. If Neilen knew more, Charles could probably figure a plan out to stay as far away from it as possible. Or not. He hadn't decided yet. For now, life was good. Looking at the bar again he noticed he was getting thirsty. Smiling, he said;

"Oh, and yeah, I would like a beer."