Ty usually didn't do the gambling scene; his luck could be described as iffy at best. Besides, he pressed his luck for a living, why do it for recreation as well, right? But...in a sense, that was exactly why the young man was here; to make a little pocket money.

But he wasn't in on the action, per se. No. He stuck to the shadows, his icy blue eyes scanning the scene as a hand ran through his now extremely short, red hair as his eyes scanned the scene, hands in the pocket of his jeans for now. The weather was cooling off, but still not enough for a jacket. He thought, at least. So, here he was, in a black tee shirt, black jeans, keeping a low profile as he skillfully swiped bits of cash here and there from people who definitely would kill him if he got caught.

What better way to celebrate getting settled back in after a return from running for your life? Nimbly, his hand swiped a few bills from an unsuspecting pocket before blending back into his surroundings, unseen, unnoticed.

But he knew that could change in a heartbeat. Knowing this, he also knew to plan ahead, should he find himself in a bind.

Magnum didn’t need to go unnoticed. Quite the contrary, she needed people looking. Staring, even, but in the wrong places. While some criminals practiced sleight of hand to steal from gamblers, her tools were slightly more… obvious. Dressed in a tight black strapless crop top with demi-sleeves that wrapped around her lower biceps and a pair of jean capris from years ago, she looked stunning… However, the real money was in the bright red leather jacket. It held her stash, and the keys to her success.

She was not a criminal; she was a magician. Over many years, she had learned that the art of deception was made significantly easier when one possessed what the audience wanted to see. So, like all good magicians, she presented to the audience just enough of what they desired to keep their attention while working the real magic just out of sight.

Nights that the street races didn’t run, the latina found herself down here among all of the other pickpockets brave enough to run in the gambling business. Half of the time it was for fun and the other half for business. Tonight was a fun night, one that would fuel her adrenaline addiction, provide her with free rounds, and slip cash into her bank account. She had learned the ways of thievery quickly in her younger days: dress nicely, attract the attention of someone with money, steal some, rinse, repeat.

Ty was keeping a lookout on the surroundings as he worked, and he noticed that he wasn't the only one working here. Then, again, all things considered, it made perfect sense. Though the lad was used to being the only one picking pockets at a time, this wasn't the minors anymore. So, as he worked, he made a point to avoid the other pickpockets. In his line of work, he'd learned to pick them out of a crowd, though he had to admit some were harder to pinpoint than others.

However, one in particular caught his attention. Bright red jacket. Couldn't miss her. He found his eyes darting to her every now and then; maybe later he'd try to talk to her. He knew better than to interrupt a woman while she was working.

Now, back to his work...

An experienced thief might have noticed Ty was avoiding stealing from women altogether, but that was how he worked. He still adhered to his moral code.

Very carefully, he plucked a roll of cash from a shirt pocket and disappeared into the crowd.

His eyes were focused as he navigated the dangerous landscape, though they still found their way to the mysterious--yet he had to admit, quite skilled--female. Focus, Ty. Focus. Mistakes happen when you don't focus...

In the days of warlocks, Magnum might have been considered a witch. Though this was no longer a socially acceptable term, they had been consistent enough to make its descendant rhyme. Stealing, especially in the amounts she could pull by sliding her hands over some unsuspecting gambler too lost in her chest or the game, was a large crime. She was good at what she did, and knew it. The cockiness sometimes caused her to overestimate, but with a few bats of her eyelashes and a well placed airhead excuse, she could talk her way out of almost anything.

As the night drew on, she noticed a boy in all black watching her. Not like the others watched her, but with a certain draw of fascination as opposed to lust. This fed her ego, allowing her to pull larger moves in a sort of unspoken competition. However, this also meant that her jacket filled up quicker than usual, which meant that she’d have to escape to unload. The Jag held most of her earnings from the night under the floor mats.

She propped next to a rather round man in a tattered suit playing poker. He smelled faintly of alcohol, drunkenness reinforced with the occasional slur and jolliness of his demeanor. “Hey there sugar, you look like you’re having a good night. Want to make it even better?” she flashed him a smile, resting her hands on her knees. That was all it took to distract the entire table, so no one noticed her slip a few $100 bills off the table. This just about filled her up, and she needed a break anyways. Flirtatiously, she slid off the poker table. In other circumstances, there would be no doubt that these pathetic boys would’ve followed her - but this was poker, and to leave the table meant to forfeit the pot and any contributions one had already made. Therefore, free of unwanted attention, she sauntered out to the parking lot to check on her baby.

Ty's mind was obviously preoccupied with the woman who practically had a gravitational pull on his attention; like she was the magnet and he was a piece of iron. However, it wasn't just her looks(and she was quite easy on the eyes), but it was mostly the skill and the methods at which she stole. She had them eating out of the palm of her hand, and then looked them in the eyes and robbed them. It was just as impressive--if not more impressive, to him--than her figure.

Carefully, he tried to pick another mark's pocket, ripe with cash.

"Hey! You little..." A hand grabbed at Ty's shirt, but Ty had his own trick that helped him out of a bind. Unlike the girl, he didn't have a sultry figure or eyelashes to effectively bat. But what he did have, was a unique mutation. His shirt was booby trapped. As soon as the man grabbed it, he was assaulted with a flurry of mental images, giving Ty roughly thirty seconds to get away. And get away, he did. Disappearing into the shadows, he weaved through the crowd and obstacles, to the parking lot not far from there.

Looks like the redhead rogue's fun was over, but he'd made out with a substantial profit for the evening. And his bones were still in tact, which was a plus. Taking a deep breath, he placed the palm of his hand on his shirt, and his eyes glowed red, lighting up the parking lot as he reset the booby trap on his shirt.

At that moment, not far away, he saw her. The girl he'd been stalking admiring all night. Being Ty, he decided to take the chance. Ty ALWAYS took the chance.

He walked over to her, giving a friendly wave. "Nice work out there," he commented casually. Occasionally, he still glanced over his shoulder; he knew he'd have company looking for him soon. But hey, if he did, Ty knew how to handle himself now.

Besides, why pass up the chance to talk to someone like this?

“Hey! You little…” Two men began to scuffle as she strolled casually out to her baby. She didn’t care. It was not harming her; it was not harming business. This was the underground. Whereas people in legal casinos - back in LA - were often easily distracted by flashing lights and twirling colors, people here had been taking drugs to alter their state of mind. There was also no bouncer brigade to keep the peace or table master to blame for your misfortune. Here it was man against man: your opponent was responsible for anything you lost today, and may have to pay for it in his own way. So, fights happened, but being female sheltered her from the vast majority of the action. There was always some knight in shining armor rushing to protect her. Big whoop, as if she actually needed their help.

As she pulled the Jag’s door open, a red light flashed over the parking lot. Magnum shrugged it off, attributing it to a reflection from the red paint catching her eye. She quickly lifted the carpet, pulling out her money stash before slipping into the tan leather driver’s seat while counting her earnings. Her total sat at just below $2000. Today wasn’t the most lucrative day she’d had but it was certainly a good day.

The red headed man approached silently. In fact, Magnum had been rather oblivious to her stalker the entire night. One learned to ignore the eyes when wearing revealing clothing as part of a line of work. However, oblivion in the parking lot was a different matter entirely. Being unaware during some of her jobs meant the difference between life and death.  

“Nice work out there,” he commented, causing an inadvertent jump and a corresponding leap in her heart-rate. Her fingers reached for the protection mechanism that was so near and dear to her memories. Seemingly unphased, she smiled at him. “I’ve had a lot of practice. Weren’t you farming the players too?”

Ty smiled, nodding as he drew closer, however still making sure to stay a comfortable distance away from her. No need to get creepy, now. You know, because stalking a girl you thought was hot out to a parking lot totally didn't qualify as creepy... Oh well, it was too late now. Besides, he didn't go into this expecting to meet anyone. And furthermore, he was merely admiring her work. And besides, he didn't know she'd be out here. He was just trying to get away from a big guy who now had a massive headache.

Right.

"Yeah, I was," he replied, stopping his approach when he was just beyond arms' length. "Couldn't help but admire you back there. Real clean, smooth. You can call me Ty," he said, still somewhat paranoid; though he was sure the guy who almost caught him wasn't remotely going to come this way.

"Yeah, I was. Couldn't help but admire you back there. Real clean, smooth. You can call me Ty," he extended the greeting. His demeanor made it appear that he wasn't digging for anything, except perhaps tips, so Magnum relaxed her guard. In the light, she had an opportunity to size the boy - Ty - up. Although she didn’t care to fight after a long evening of work, he would be a relatively easy takedown without any weapons. That in mind, her fingers strayed to the pack of cigarettes and their accompanying lighter.

She withdrew, pack in hand. “Men are easily distracted. It’s the lesbians you have to watch for,” she shrugged. This was true in the vast majority of cases, as the males one found in the underground were often narrow minded - or thieves. The females, however, were more perceptive, especially if they received a cut of the evening’s proceedings for helping their gambling partner count cards. “Are you looking to light up or would you like some advice? I’ve never stolen from a man’s perspective, but I know that wearing black is only good in cases of burglary. Everywhere else the lights are so bright that it makes you stand out,” came the offer (with a hint of constructive criticism).

Ty chuckled. "Wouldn't know. I only steal from men. Granted, you being here more than likely made my job a lot easier," he complimented, shaking his head at the offer to light up.

"Thanks for the feedback. I usually only stick to more...I guess you'd say innocent...grounds. But I figured after all these years in the minors, I should step up to the big leagues at some point."

"Well, you made it, punk." Ty turned to the source of the voice and crap it was his friend from before.

"Hey, buddy~" Ty said, his voice over the top and almost cartoon-like. No matter where he went, or how long he stayed, that thick Southern Georgia accent never left his voice. Not that he had any problems with that. "How's your head?"

"Very funny...I don't know what the **** you did to me back there, but you're gonna pay. With interest. I think you're girlfriend over there'll do nicely."

The guy stood a few inches taller than Ty, maybe thirty or so pounds heavier, but Ty didn't spend the last year in Kansas just pounding beers and meeting women(as much as he would have loved that...)

The guy threw a punch, but Ty was too quick, he caught the arm, using the guy's momentum to bring him down and give him a face full of asphalt. He put his free hand on the guy's back,putting some pressure on the arm. Focusing, he didn't let go of his grip as he seemed to freeze for a good minute. Of course, this gave the guy plenty of time to break free, but Ty was smirking.

"What's the matter, Jim? Sad a little runt like me just took you down? Or is it finally getting to you that the drinking and gambling habit finally drove your wife to leaving you?"

The guy was pissed, but he was in utter shock. "How the hell did you--"

"Let's just say...I'm psychic. That little thing I did back there with the headache? Nothing compared to what I can do."

"You sonofa--"

"Dude, now's the part in every movie ever where you agree to turn your life around, give me a hug, and walk away into the distance."

The guy stared him down. "You really gunna make my head explode?" He tried to sound threatening, but Ty was on top here, and it was obvious. However, just in case, he had his right hand close to his side, near the stiletto he kept concealed under his shirt.

"You're the gambler. Am I bluffing?"

The guy swallowed a moment, then turned and cut his losses. And Ty turned back to the girl in question.

"Sorry about that. Where were we?" He smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

The man - Ty - turned down her pack. This was completely alright with Magnum, seeing as one less cigarette shared was one more she could smoke in the future. At his comment of the big leagues, she had to laugh. “Aww, babe… you think this is the big leagues? Nah, the men in there just carry bigger guns. They don’t have any real power, especially if you can keep them distracted.” However, as if to contradict her previous comment, when she bent back into her baby to stash her box a deep voice rumbled over the parking lot. It carried an ominous threat with it: "Well, you made it, punk." The very first thing that crossed her mind? Oh sh*t, I don’t have time to deal with another fight. This was made worse by his jab at her - the one that assumed she was Ty’s girlfriend. Yeah, that one pissed her off more than anything.

Magnum reached under her dash, clicking a round into the chamber as the two boys started their fight. Whoever this objectifying bastard was, he’d selected the wrong person to stereotype. She stepped out, expecting to find the scrawny man on the losing side. Instead, speed seemingly won this fight, as he was pressing whoever had instigated this into the asphalt. What came next unsettled her.

“What's the matter, Jim? Sad a little runt like me just took you down? Or is it finally getting to you that the drinking and gambling habit finally drove your wife to leaving you?” Magnum would’ve usually assumed this was a bluff and allowed it to fall under the table, but his words seemed to catch the attacker’s ears. For some reason, at least part of this was accurate. Either Ty was an epic stalker or there was something mutant going on here. The latina wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

Luckily, she didn’t have to: in a few more short exchanges, Ty had the man running for his life. Or, rather, shuffling quickly. Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned back to her. “Sorry about that. Where were we?” Magnum looked amused, if anything. “Hang on a second,” she mumbled, aiming to the guy’s left and pulling down on the trigger. It sent him from a brisk shuffle of wounded pride into a run. “Don’t call me someone’s b****, ever,” she growled under her breath.

With a smile, she slid the gun back into its holster and tossed it into her baby. “Alright, now that he’s handled… I believe we were discussing your career.”

Well, damn. Ty was more than a little surprised when she pulled out a gun and shot in the attacker's direction as he was leaving. He then noted that it would be a good idea not to insinuate things like that when it came to his new...er...friend? He chuckled, full aware that this could take care of herself. He wasn't too big on the idea of guns, but it honestly wasn't any of his business if anyone else used one.

"Well," he said after a moment, "This is the big leagues compared to my usual bit of roaming the park or the streets to pay rent. So in that sense, it's big league pay." He gave a mild shrug as he got more comfortable, relaxing now that the rush of adrenaline was easing off.

She wasn't saying anything about his method of running off the attacker, and he figured it was for the best. He just made it a point not to use his abilities on her(unless the situation specifically called for that.) But as far as getting to know her, or seeing her without a shirt on...well, that, he'd have to try to do the old fashioned way.

"So," he said, shattering the silence, "I never got your name. Or would you settle for Darlin'?" he asked, a sly grin forming on his lips.

The Latina couldn’t help it - she scoffed at Ty’s flirtations. His methods were enough to cause a rare occurrence on her lips: Magnum smiled.It wasn’t very often some could make her smile, and anyone who could do that (even using idiotic come-ons) was a step ahead of everyone else. This lasted only a moment before she was moving along in the conversation again, hitting back: “Only if you settle for Babe.” Seeing Ty’s posture shift, she felt it was relatively safe to relax her own, if just slightly. In truth, Mag missed playful banter between partners that she’d held with Blaze before…. her mind trailed off, refusing to visit that in public.

Rolling her eyes, she slid into the smooth leather the Jag offered. Then, she lifted her eyes to meet his. Her gaze was relatively deadpan, save for the small glint hiding behind the facade. “Look, if you swear not to jack up my car, you should come.” It was an offer, but it was much more than she usually made. Half of Magnum thought she was crazy, the other half didn’t know why she’d offered but was along for the ride.

"Well, Babe is a step up from what I usually get called," he answered with a soft smile. For some reason, it really didn't bother him that she was witholding her name. Hell, the air of mystery made her that much more attractive.

"Oh, you've got nothin' to worry about, there. I've got a strict policy when it comes to cars." But he gladly accepted the offer, walking around to the other side of the car and climbing in, carefully shutting the door behind him. Then, as always, he buckled his seat belt.

By now, he was quite relaxed. It'd been too long since he'd had this kind of playful interaction. Granted, part of him thought this seemed a little too easy. Meanwhile the other part told him he should just enjoy it while he could, and whatever happened, happened.

And a third part of him wondered why the rest of him couldn't avcept the fact that maybe, just maybe, his Southern charm was actually working for him.

It was definitely not the accent - she fell for bad boys more often than hicks. However, the classy charm and playful banter gathered her trust quicker than Mag liked.

That settled it then, every time Ty insisted on calling her Darlin’ she could call him Babe. This showed the promising beginnings of every dysfunctional relationship. “Goodie two shoes,” she mumbled teasingly after he buckled, slipping her own belt into its lock for the sake of appearances. Her fingers slipped over the ignition, then found their way down to the shifting stick. Deciding to take it easy on the poor guy - he’d buckled up for heaven’s sake - the Jag never broke first on its way to the stop sign.

“My name’s Mag,” the truth came out smoothly, rolling over the edge of her tongue like every other lie she’d fed gamblers tonight. There was no need to lie here, when she was still certain he was harmless. “I would take you to the races and show you what a real underground looks like, but they’re closed tonight. So, where would you like to go?” It was an open offer, but one that would tell a lot about the person sitting in the seat beside her. Wherever Ty chose, Magnum would know more about him.

Ty wasnt exactly a hick; he was southern enough to be charming, polite, and gentlemanly, but at the same time, he lived more by his own code than any legislation's laws.

"Oh, it's just a personal rule of mine," he explained, leaving the subject at that for now. After all, most times he was in a car, cops were in pursuit. And the car was stolen. Maybe if she stuck around long enough, she'd learn about Ty's moral code. But for now, he was only showing his hand one card at a time.

And then she put control in his lap. "I know a place not far from here. The Jade Tiger. Food, drinks, dancing, something for everyone," His answer was simple enough, and yet unless she'd been there before, she wouldn't know much until she got there.

It wasn't the most popular joint, but it was a decent atmosphere, and played more rock and metal as opposed to electronic and dance-beats.

He looked out the window, occasionally stealing a glance at her as he awaited a response.