Margo had always loved the rain. She didn't quite know why; maybe it was all that water falling around her, that clean, wet, cold feeling in the air, the steady rhythm of it. Anyway, she liked to occasionally step out into the city when it was raining.

It was getting a little late now, though the clouds had been blocking out any sunlight there might have been for hours. The rain was falling steadily, more than a drizzle but not enough for a storm, thank goodness- Margo hated storms. She'd made her way around almost half the city, only to find herself in unfamiliar territory. She was anything but lost. Well, who cared, now she could explore!

The girl, water running off her hood, paused for a moment under a streetlight. "Hmm.. Where should I go first?"

Chris had a very pragmatic outlook on stealing. He knew it was morally wrong, and that most people didn't appreciate someone else getting their hands on their goods... but sometimes it was needed. To him, it all balanced out in the end: one day he would steal from a store, the next day someone would pull him into an alley and take his stuff from him.

It was like the circle of life, only less poetic.

Usually he only took what he needed, but sometimes it wasn't an object he needed, but a favor. Like when he got a flat tire on his van. Usually he moved it around and parked it in different spots during the day - he often went on trips outside of New York, too - and losing his mobility made him vulnerable.

So there was nothing other to do than to obtain some funds for the repair.

He had been hanging around this area of the town for a couple of hours; there weren't much people around, and if someone went chasing after him it was easy to lose them in the maze of alleyways nearby. Well, most of the time. A little old lady hadn't approved of his tactics and had socked him in the face with her handbag, which had resulted in one black eye.
Despite that setback, he had managed to collect half of the money he needed. A few more should be sufficient.

It was raining when he caught sight of the girl with the chestnut-colored hair in front of him. She was standing under a streetlight and didn't look in his direction, so she probably hadn't noticed him yet. Chris snuck up on her, and when he was close enough he dashed forward. He was used to catching fish with his bare hands - quickly sticking his hand into one of her pockets and snagging her wallet wasn't a challenge.
"Sorry!"
He turned around and started to run from the scene - he was a slower runner than most regular humans, so he relied on his victims being dumbfounded for a while.

She'd just decided to take a look down the street to the right and had peeled her back off the lamppost when the shout reached her ears just as someone snagged her wallet from one of her pockets.

"Sorry!"

Years of table tennis had taught her quick reflexes, the occasional jogging to build stamina, speed. She whirled around, running after the thief. He actually was rather slow, and she caught up quickly, reaching out a hand to grab at him. It was sort of hard to tell in the rain, water blurring her vision but there was something about him that wasn't what she'd call normal...

"Where do you think you're going with that, sir?" Margo demanded, keeping her voice down. No need to draw attention to them, or even risk it, even if there wasn't anybody about.

What sort of thief snatched wallets from unsuspecting girls on the street, yelling sorry back at them as he ran off anyway? She had to admit, he would have been rather good at it had he not given himself away with the shout. And why run if he knew he couldn't get away? He had to know that, being as slow as he was. The apology left her wondering if he wasn't really sorry and had stolen out of need. If that was the case, she'd be glad to give him a reasonable amount of money.

Not her whole wallet.

Suddenly he felt a grip around his arm. He quickly tore himself free and spun around; the girl had chased after him and they were now face to face. Chris took a few sidesteps so he ended up with two garbage cans between them - the girl didn't seem aggressive, but he didn't want to risk another black eye.

This was a bit of a dilemma. She would want her wallet back, and he wasn't fast enough to outrun her. Usually people didn't follow him when he ran - the thiefs in New York had a nasty reputation. But now he had to decide; should he give her the wallet back or try to get away with it?
For now, he choose to just keep on his side of the garbage cans, prepared to start cirkling them in case she'd try to get a hold of him again.

He peered at her over the top of the can - she was uncannily calm for someone who'd gotten her things taken. Usually it involved more screaming, swearing and throwing stuff. But then again, she was young... younger than he had thought.
"Nowhere," he said suspiciously, wary of any sudden movements she'd make. "You shouldn't chase after muggers. You never know which ones might stab you."
It might sound like a threat, but Chris only stabbed people in defense. Stealing was one thing, hurting people another.

Wait a moment. Had she called him sir?

It was probably the rain, making everything slick and wet, but he tore his arm free from Margo's grasp surprisingly quickly, ducking behind two garbage cans. Really? She supposed it must have given him a sense of security, but it looked an awful lot like he was trapped to her. It was like the childhood games of tag. Margo had liked those games- she almost never got caught.

The thief peered over the tops of the cans. "Nowhere." Oh, that was very funny. His next comment gave her pause, though. "You shouldn't chase after muggers. You never know which ones might stab you."

Was he threatening her? She highly doubted it, but what if he was serious? Suddenly, she was rethinking her decision to run after him. What if he actually stabbed her? "Y'know, I don't think you qualify as a mugger." She replied as calmly as she could. If he decided to jump at her, she could always run for it, right? At least she knew she could outrun him.

"Why do you want my money anyways? Okay, let's try again. Just give back my wallet, and I'll leave you alone."

So apparently he didn't qualify as a mugger. What did you say to that? Thank you?

Chris squinted his yellow eyes and gave her a longer, more thorough look. He didn't feel guilty about stealing from her: he never felt guilty about stealing from anyone anymore. But there was something about her that reminded him about Casey. The chestnut hair, the way she approached him without fear...
The more he thought about it, the more he felt that he wasn't meant to have her wallet. She had him beaten, she had earned it back.
It was no loss for him, after all. He just needed to find someone with slower reflexes.

He placed the wallet on the lid of the garbage can and pushed it towards the girl with a webbed, four-fingered hand.
"Then take it."

He withdrew his hand and added: "But I'm honest about the advice I gave you. Money isn't worth losing your life over."
He tilted his head to the side and gave her a puzzled look.
"This area is not the safest one. Why are you even here?"

"Then take it."

Well, that had been easier than Margo had expected. He simply placed her wallet on the lid of the garbage can and slid it over to her. She pocketed it. "Thank you very much, sir."

Up close, she was more sure he wasn't exactly human. His posture was decidedly strange, but she seized on nothing until she saw his hand. His webbed, four-fingered hand. The webbing between a pair of fingers was missing. Surprised, but more curious than frightened, she was about to move closer to examine him more when he spoke again.

"But I'm honest about the advice I gave you. Money isn't worth losing your life over."

His previous warning, now sounding nothing like a threat but more like a worried parent instructing a naughty child, rather surprised her. "Thank you." Margo said, gentler than she'd meant to. "That's very true. You gotta take a risk every once in a while, though. I'll be sure to be more careful." This was only getting stranger and stranger. First he steals your stuff, then he threatens you, then seems to give up and start genuinely caring for you. Was it a ploy? Maybe, but she didn't think so.

"This area is not the safest one. Why are you even here?" He- the mutant, she guessed- had his head tilted as he examined her. Oh great, he probably thought she was a little girl who couldn't protect herself.

"I like the rain. I'm just out for a walk, and I'm exploring this part of the city. As for safe, it looks pretty safe to me." After a pause, she added. "What's your name?"

Chris weighed uneasily from foot to foot.
"As long as you don't call me sir," he mumbled. It felt weird, when he had done nothing to deserve any respect.

When she explained that she'd just been out exploring he raised an eyebrow at her - or rather, the area where his eyebrow would have been if he'd had any hair.
"As for safe, it looks pretty safe to me."
"Technically, you did just get your wallet stolen," he commented in a flat voice. He had a bit of a habit to state the obvious.

Chris tapped his fingers against the garbage can's lid, not really sure what to do. He should probably leave - it wasn't his business where other people walked. If she wanted to explore this area of the town, she had a right to do so. He hesitated slightly before giving up his name.
"Chris," he said, and then added "Who are you?"

He might be a thief, but he still had manners. Sorta.

He- the thief- the mutant- looked uneasy, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He finally mumbled a reply.

"As long as you don't call me sir."

Really? she thought. That was what he was worried about? She'd simply thanked him, maybe a little sarcastically but it hadn't really merited a response. His reply suggested he either felt he didn't deserve her respect, or was just giving her a little snark back. She strongly suggested the former, seeing his discomfort. "A routine courtesy only, sir. Still, if you'd like, I won't refer to you as that anymore." There, case closed. Sure, it was a strange request but if that's what he wanted, who was she to judge?

But then there he was, criticizing her answer to his worried question, in just about the driest voice she had ever heard. "True" Margo replied, deciding she would leave it at that. She didn't particularly want to argue with him. Maybe he was emotionally unstable, heaven knew she probably would be if she was a visible mutant living on the streets by herself for too long, and she had yet to know him more. "Margo, nice to meet you."

The girl briefly contemplated sticking out her hand, but ended up deciding against it. Would he want to shake her hand? Could he shake it? So many questions she had yet to find the answers to...

"Chris." She said for the moment, testing the name out on her tongue. "What's up?" Actually, it read more like tell me everything including exactly why you decided to steal from me tonight and maybe I can do something for you.

Chris was aware that many people would have considered the situation kind of awkward. If you stole from someone it usually lead to hostility between the two parts - but there wasn't exactly a manual to follow if the person you had stolen from wanted to stay and chat instead of leaving. This was a kind of new situation for him, untrodden ground, so he was testing it out carefully.

When the girl - Margo - said it was nice to meet him, he just nodded.
His focus was on the girl's hands; he wanted to make sure she wasn't trying to sneak up a knife or a gun. The risk was small, but you couldn't be too cautious around new people - even around polite, long-haired girls who were supposedly just out enjoying the rain.

"Nothing much," he said carefully. "Just hanging around, trying to gather some funds... but, I guess you know about that already."

His eyes narrowed a bit, and he hadn't left the relatively safe place behind the garbage cans yet.
"You're... not just trying to catch me off guard so you can stab me, right? Because the last time someone was this polite to me I ended up with a pocket knife in my arm. Not pleasant."

Chris's answer was satisfactory enough, though not quite what she'd been looking for. She'd just opened her mouth to ask him more when he suddenly came forth with something... unexpected to say the least.

"You're... not just trying to catch me off guard so you can stab me, right? Because the last time someone was this polite to me I ended up with a pocket knife in my arm. Not pleasant."

Was that what he suspected? That she was a mass murderer of some kind, just waiting for a victim? Margo hated to think she had given him that impression.

"Wait, what?" She said. "No! I mean, of course I'm not waiting to stab you. It sounds terrible that such a thing happened to you. I'd like to think, though, that I've given you a better impression than that." There was genuine hurt in her voice as she added, "If you trust me that is." That was ironic, coming from the very girl with every trust and abandonment issue you could think of.

She turned in a slow circle, hands up to show that they were empty, an act of trust. She was putting her back to him, showing that even if he didn't trust her she trusted him. She didn't quite know why, just that her instincts told her he was more afraid of her than she was of him. The girl actually wanted to help him, even if, no especially since he had stolen from her.

"What do you mean, funds?"

It really had nothing to do with impressions, it was more about being careful. Of course Margo didn't seem particularly stab-happy... but neither had the other guy. He'd just been interested in talking, and then... bam, knife to the arm.
"Uh... not to sound rude, but that's exactly what you would say if you wanted to stab me," he said carefully.

What she did next surprised him. She turned his back towards him with her hands raised in the air, probably to show she wasn't a threat. Was he expected to do the same? He had heard of trust exercises before. Were they supposed to be mutual?
Not sure what to do, Chris decided to meet her halfway - instead of turning around fully and turning his back on her, he turned 90 degrees so he would still be able to see her over his shoulder. It felt like a good compromise.
Chris was always glad to learn about how humans interacted, anything that might make him fit in better. 

He shrugged, even though she couldn't see him when she had her back turned towards him.
"You know. Funds. Money. My van got a flat tire, and none of the car repairers I've spoken to accept IOU's. Got to pay up front. They don't trust me enough to believe I'd keep up my end of the deal."
He scoffed, feeling a bit indignant about that. Yeah, he was aware that people had a tendency to mistrust thieves, but they didn't know he was one. Besides, he made a point to always keep his word.
"This wouldn't be a big problem," he admitted, "but I kind of live in it, and staying at the same place for too long... I'd rather keep moving, you know?"

"Uh... not to sound rude, but that's exactly what you would say if you wanted to stab me."

Turning back around, Margo gave him a look with raised eyebrows, only to discover he had done something funny where he turned half his body away from her and was watching her over his shoulder. Not that she could tell that much, behind the trash cans. She sighed. Trust games, was it? She hadn't meant to start that.

Rubbing her eye because she had tilted her hood the wrong way and water had gotten into it (not a very pleasant situation), she replied. "Honestly, can we not play these games? Turn back around. Okay, I get that you don't trust me, and I'm not asking you to. It probably doesn't mean anything to you but I swear, I won't stab you. All good?"

Maybe that had been a little too blunt, dropping her polite facade, if only for a second. Anyway, Chris didn't seem to care that much; by how he acted earlier, she might have even guessed he liked the girl not being polite for a change. It was strange how people thought sometimes.

He explained about his van, and she felt sympathy for him. He had to live in a van? She knew there were people out there living in worse, but meeting someone in real life who lived in a van, who had to resort to stealing to get "funds", was a different story.

"Aw, that must suck.Can I, um, come along to see this van of yours? I know you don't trust me and all, but maybe... See, maybe I can work out some funds, but I have to see it first."

Apparently he'd misunderstood her point about turning around. When she told him to stop it with the games and to turn back to face her he did so.
>>"Okay, I get that you don't trust me, and I'm not asking you to. It probably doesn't mean anything to you but I swear, I won't stab you. All good?"
She sounded earnest, so after a moment of hesitation he nodded silently and stepped out on the street again from behind the garbage cans.

Margo's proposition to help him out was... unexpected. He wasn't above accepting money from others, but that meant he'd owed her. He already owed a lot of people in this city favors... too many, actually. He would have to start returning them soon if he ever wanted to get the balance right.
But, until then, another debt probably wouldn't tip down the scales too much.
"Really?" he said hesitantly. He was on the verge of asking her why she wanted to see the van, but he had second-guessed her enough. This was a chance for him to get the money he needed without stealing it, and he wasn't about to let it slip between his fingers.
"In that case, I'd owe you one. It's parked not far from here."

He began to walk along the sidewalk, his bare, three-toed feet splashing in the puddles that had formed in the light rain. He gave her a look over his shoulder.
"For the record, you shouldn't follow strangers to their vans either."
Just like his previous advice it might come off as threatening, but this was Chris' idea of a callback joke. He might not have the comical timing needed to deliver a joke right, but that didn't mean he wasn't trying.

Apparently she had finally broken through Chris's walls. He stepped out from behind the trash cans, timidly, but he did it. Margo was surprised when he actually took her up on her offer.

"Really?" Aww, that disbelief in his voice was so sweet. Her heart was melting.

"In that case, I'd owe you one. It's parked not far from here." He sounded doubtful, but sure. Was the debt what he was worried about? Well, he had no reason to worry, and she told him so. "Lead the way. And, ah, don't worry about owing me anything."

Her boots splashed in the puddles as she followed him. "For the record, you shouldn't follow strangers to their vans either." He said. Was that another threat, or a joke? She took it as the latter, laughing quietly. It was her type of joke, even if it was delivered in a monotone voice, and lacked timing. "I agree, dear sir." She replied, teasing.

"Speaking of which." She said with a look that prompted honesty. It was wasted as he probably couldn't see her. "You haven't, uh, been gathering funds from other unsuspecting children have you?"