All big cities are generally the same. You get large areas, they fill with large crowds, and as things get more cramped and crowded, people stop paying attention to anyone but themselves. People see a lot, but if it doesn't concern them, they don't always say anything. Sure, you might get the occasional individual who still thinks the world is a happy place and wants to help others. But as a whole, people don't run around stopping crimes as they take place. Which is why at 10AM on a Monday on a sidewalk in the middle of New York absolutely filled with people, Elliott had managed to steal 12 wallets. And he hadn't even been pick-pocketing for very long that day. 

Nobody was paying attention to the guy in the black hoodie, even though the weather was hot enough to not need a hood up. And the fact that he had used a big red tongue extending from his hand for at least two of those pockets picked hadn't attracted attention. He'd been careful. He'd been very careful. That's important when you're a green man who looks like an alien. You tend to stick out if you aren't wearing your hood up on a busy city street.

As a runner, one tends to make deliveries for people who aren't always good guys. But when you're new to the city and haven't made a ton of contacts, work comes slow. If he'd had a job, he'd have been happy to work that. Since he didn't, he was pooling money for pizza. It was a sort of crowd-funding that was highly user-motivated. Like the people that say for every mile they run, they'll get X amount of dollars in donations, except here it was every wallet he acquired, and those wallets didn't always have equal amounts. One more, and he'd be good for a while. Elliott scanned the crowd. 

Crowds. Sam hated crowds with a passion, sober or drunk it always made him fee like he was going to run into everyone, like there was no escape. Sam didn’t always feel this way, it might have had something to do with him being attacked a while back when he was walking out of a bar where there were a lot of people. Maybe he was just worried for the well being of others. He blinked then someone bumped into him without apologizing. “Watch it!” a grumpy guy said as he kept walking. Sam sighed no, that wasn’t it. He just hated crowds. The temperature dropped slightly around him and he responded with, ”I have one eye!” the old man turned back to say something else but then saw Sam point at his eye patch covering his left eye. “Oh.. Geez… sorry man!”

It wasn’t everyday he pulled the sympathy card but the guy seemed like an @$$hat and Sam wanted him to feel guilty. Once he turned and walked quicker out of view Sam smirked and turned back around to head in the direction he was going before. It was time for breakfast; a late one but he still couldn’t figure what he wanted. Bagels or pizza. Both were breakfast in his eye and both were the best in the city and originally he wasn’t too far from this area anyways. Sam did just get off a shift with the MRD. He pulled out his phone and kept walking using his heat sense to avoid people as best he could.

Scrolling down his contact list he stopped to look at Sveta’s number. It had been some time sense he had heard from her. Text or call, which was odd seeing as the last time they were really together it, was a little awkward or at least in his eye it was. Sam was about to call her to see if she wanted to meet up for some grub but then decided against it. It wasn’t normally how he operated. He normally didn’t call back at least not in situations like this. Sam always just let them play out.

Another person bumped into him and he rolled his eye still wondering why he didn’t feel like jumping into the air and taking off on an ice slide then he remembered what a stir it caused when he landed anywhere. He didn’t feel like dealing with more people.

Bump bump, some sleight of hand, and he had another wallet. "Oops, sorry," Elliott said carelessly. He kept walking past the guy, wondering idly when he'd lost the eye. When you're a career criminal, you notice things or you die. He'd noticed that. Not one to count money while walking, he'd slipped his hand in the pocket of his hoodie so the wallet wouldn't be visible. One step, two. Three steps casually away from the eyepatch guy, ducking his head. He was going to get away to his alley to empty the cash out from it and toss the rest. He'd done that with all the other wallets. Wasn't carrying around 12 wallets in a hoodie pocket or something stupid. He had his own. Somebody entered the space between him and the other guy.

In a moment of careless curiosity, Elliott pulled out the wallet to take a closer look at it. Something had been bugging him since he'd nabbed it. It didn't feel like a regular wallet. Now he knew why. There was a badge on the wallet. The guy was a cop. He didn't know what MRC was, and frankly, he didn't care. You don't get to be a successful criminal going around stealing from cops. Breaking into a run would be too obvious, so he kept walking. He slid the wallet away again, hopefully before anyone noticed. Ducked his head back down, and just kept moving. With luck, nobody would notice... and then he could get a meat-lover's slice.

Sam stopped and looked at the street signs still not sure which way he was supposed to go to the pizza or bagel place but when he shifted his weight something was off. Having something in your pockets for a while and then suddenly not having something in your pocket was the feeling Sam had. He stopped and looked back to his phone. He had that. He did the three point check and after finding his keys in his left pocket he felt his back right which was now empty. Without hesitation he looked around angry.

”Sara!” Sam yelled as he turned to see his feline friend. He pulled out his phone and called her as his mutation decreased the temperature hoping to find her before the phone picked up. No answer and no feline figure. Odd. Maybe it wasn’t Sara who stole his wallet then.

Sam stopped and turned shifting his good eye looking for the most recent person who bumped into him. Sam was upset now it took him so long to notice what had happened someone pickpocketed him. Seriously? Sam hated this city more an more. He could feel everyone around him and when he turned and brushed past one person he spotted some with a hoods up or hats on. Hats or hoods. Both good indications of a thief, at least only when it was really covering someone.

”Stop thief!” yelled hoping that if the pickpocket was close to him he’d take of running or stop. But this was New York and Sam wouldn’t be surprised if a few people who were trying not to be seen started to run.

So the guy started shouting for someone named Sara. That was new. A good indication the human had noticed something missing, it was. Elliott kept walking at the same pace he had been. His eyes scanned for exit paths from beneath the edge of his hood. He didn't see the guy's reaction. He only heard it. In his mind, he imagined the human scanning the crowd, eyes narrowing on his back.

Had it gotten colder? Perhaps the weather was changing? He dismissed the thought as unimportant.

"Stop, thief!" The person had yelled. Just great. Elliott thought. This wasn't his first rodeo, though. He also apparently wasn't the only one picking pockets in the crowd that day. Someone barreled in to him and sent him whirling to the ground. As he turned, he noticed deft hands snaking in to his hoodie's front pocket. Oh hell no! Was this some sort of flipping irony? Someone yells stop thief and the pickpocket pickpockets the pickpocket on his way out. Elliott landed on his ass.

There was only one course of action the green-skinned mutant could take. He hauled back his hood and joined in. "Stop, thief! That guy took my wallet!!" It wasn't his wallet, really. It was the other guy's wallet. But nobody needed to know that. His wallet was still safe in his front right pants pocket. He definitely would have noticed if someone had reached in and tried to grab his wallet there.

Turning a crowd on another thief wasn't part of his usual MO, but this was new territory and a new city. Getting caught this early on doing something as stupid as this was bad for business. The other guy could take the fall.

Some of the people stopped moving closest to him. Apparently his voice wasn’t as commanding as he thought, if only he was a little taller or could project his voice. Sam felt some movement and then some one fell after. Ice pushed him higher into the air as the person who fell stood up and joined in calling for a thief. The green skin threw him for a second then he turned his attention onto the assailant.

The assailant tried running but was quickly stopped when Sam fired a beam of ice at him. From his elevated position he managed to hit him with some ease. Anyone who was close to the beam of blue would get a nasty chill but the target collapsed with pressure of the beam. He fell forward and was pinned as a bunch of people backed away as soon as they saw what was happening. Some people might get upset at Sam for shooting off some ice in a crowd but he’d deal with that later. He’d probably be chewed out Sam had been chewed out before so he wasn’t too worried.

Turning to the green dude he saw before Sam turned to him and hopped down from his five-foot ice platform, which disintegrated into a lump of snow as soon as Sam touched down on the pavement. ”You alright dude?” Sam asked as he walked closer to the green guy.

He pushed himself to his feet as the crowd reacted.

Ice. The freaking guy he'd stolen used frakking ice. He lifted himself off the ground on some sort of ice platform, and just (if you'll excuse the expression) froze him in his tracks. Well. At least the guy hadn't shouted something like "Freeze" before he'd done it. That would have been too much. The would-be-pickpocket was on the ground now, stuck in ice. Which was great, all things considered. Kept everyone's focus off him. Everyone except Mr. Hero, that was.

Elliott felt the guy's attention before he heard it. Well, gee. If you shout "He stole my wallet," and someone shoots ice at the guy to help you get your wallet back, it only makes sense they'll try and help you out. Idiot. He mentally reprimanded himself. He should have left off the last part to keep the human (scratch that, mutant worm baby) from giving him the time of day.

He made a short show of dusting himself off. "Yeah," Elliott muttered. "Just great. Nothing broken." There were several ways he could play this, and he was thinking over them quickly. Option 1: Let the guy get him his wallet back. With any luck, other guy had stolen several and his could be any one he desired. Option 2: Acting. Say he still had it, and was mistaken. And option 3: He never got to option three, and missed his window on option 2 because the guy was watching him too closely for him to make some big show. He stopped patting off the dust on his posterior, and looked towards the thief. Said thief was struggling against the ice, barely. Intense cold really takes the fight out of some people. Elliott's voice dropped a notch. "I'm lucky he didn't try and mug me in an alley or something. Must have had a guilty conscience to bolt like he did. Probably an amateur." His lips quirked in mild disdain as he spoke. The way he said amateur was scathing.

Sam watched the green guy and nodded his head with a shrug. ”Might be.” Sam said not really reading into anything he was saying. He seemed to be taking the mugging well but then again he was probably born and raised in the city. Not that NYC was really that bad but it wasn’t unheard of to be mugged or pickpocketed even if Sam and a bunch of others did everything they could to prevent that from happening.

”Not surprised he ran really.” Sam said as he turned away to look back at the guy struggling in the ice calling for someone to help him. No one did. ”Most think they can out run the police in the city. Thing is we got a lot of guys that are good at running or tracking.” Sam didn’t really think much of what he said. More like he was just speaking his thoughts. ”Crime doesn’t pay?” Sam said allowed giving a slight smirk wanting to ask Shin if that was an appropriate one liner at some point.

”Why don’t we go get back your wallet. You want to press charges?” Sam asked as he waved the guy in green to follow. Sam didn’t keep his eye focused on the green guy who was obviously a mutant. He didn’t need to. He could feel his heat behind Sam. ”What’s your name dude?” Sam asked as he walked over to the guy in ice as the crowd parted for them.

This guy was like a walking stereotype. Elliott grunted at what he was saying, without really committing to any of it. Crime doesn't pay? Seriously. Next, he'd be cramming a donut into his cake donuthole, and taking his stale coffee black.

Did he want to press charges? "Nah," Elliott said. He followed ice dude to the guy on the ground. He kept talking as he followed in the mutant's wake. "No need. Getting my wallet back. Didn't get hurt. Get him some help, though. Next time, he might run into someone who doesn't set his phasers to stun." Amateur hour was looking miserable, and Elliott wasn't impressed. As they approached him, Ice Cop asked him his name. "Friends call me October," he said. It was true. Some had. It was one of his many aliases, and he wasn't really lying. "Because I look like I'm in some sort of Halloween costume." He added wryly.

”October huh?” Sam asked debating make a Hunt for Red October joke but not coming up with anything than a bad imitation of Sean Connery. Sam didn’t bother with it though as he nodded his head in response to October reasoning for not pressing charges. It made sense he would get arrested anyways without pressing charges, at least he’d be taken in questioned and searched for anything that might be stolen and if he did have anything stolen he’d most likely be charged.

”Halloween?” Sam asked as he looked back to the guy who had red eyes and green skin and some kind of feelers bugs had. He couldn’t remember what they were called but recalled that was how they could smell. ”Don’t look like Halloween to me, a mutant maybe but not really Halloween.” Sam could see the resemblance to a few aliens from all the Area 51 stories/movies/photos but didn’t say that. He knew some people were sensitive about their looks so out of respect he kept his mouth shut.

As they approached the guy face first and pinned to the ground Sam read the guy his Miranda rights before he unthawed most of the ice except for some that stuck to his hands. Sam pulled them together and fused the ice behind his back. ”You have a weapon on you?” Sam asked the guy didn’t respond. ”You have this guys wallet?” Sam asked as he started to frisk the guy. He always hated the act of frisking it always felt awkward to him mainly because he never knew what someone was hiding. He found a gun on the guys person and then pulled the clip and made sure it wasn’t loaded. His hands were iced over at this point so he wouldn’t leave any prints. No telling what the police would find on it.

Sam then found his wallet and three others. He looked at them all and then looked to October. ”Gonna need your real name to determine which one is you.” Sam said deciding not to say they weren’t friends. That would be far harsher than he’d want and why he had no problem getting chewed out he didn’t like being the angry cop who was always grumpy with the people he was helping. Sides even if October didn’t want to give his real name he was going to get wallet back. Sam looked at the ID’s of the wallets and determined none of them were green skinned.

>>”Don’t look like Halloween to me, a mutant maybe but not really Halloween.”

"Alien, actually." Elliott smirked. He hadn't said it, but he was certainly thinking it. It was fine out in the fresh air. It didn't need to hide.

He wasn't smirking when the guy got pinned and read his rights. Classic cop move. He frisked him and found a gun. Why the guy hadn't used it was certainly clear. In the crowd, there was no guarantee he'd have hit his target, and missing and killing some innocent bystander is bad for business. Even for amateurs. Maybe even especially. The guy wasn't talking, though. At least he had brains enough for that.

Ice cop had three wallets. Elliott had known the mugger was an amateur, but three? Newb. Ice cop asked for his real name... and started flipping through wallets, no doubt looking for identification. That was a problem he'd anticipated... and even worried about when he'd gone the route he'd chosen to go. It was garbage, but suffice it to say, he had a plan.

Elliott stared at ice cop blankly for a second. Then, he scratched his leg, right by his right front pants pocket. Paused awkwardly. One of his eyes got bigger as his facial expression changed from blankness to surprise. "Hold on a second... damn. I'm an idiot." A hand went into his pants pocket and whipped out a lightly bulging brown wallet, leather cracked lightly from age. Elliott grimaced and let out an embarrassed grunt. Male for "I'm so sorry." "Ugh. I guess he didn't take it after all. Just bowled me over. With how you were shouting 'thief', I guess I just assumed..." What was it they say about people who assume?

Sam looked to October and raised an eyebrow slightly. Normally people check for something before yelling out thief. It was a little suspicious but Sam didn’t really think much on it at the moment. ”You heard thief and instead of checking you called it out as well?” Sam asked looking back to the pickpocket as he pulled out a communication device.

Sam held a finger up to signal to October it would be a second before he could get back to him. Sam kept his sixth sense on both October and the thief. Even if October didn’t get picked he could at least confirm Sam’s story ensuring this guy does some kind of time if not community service. ”Yeah, it’s me. Got a pickpocket with a gun. Not sure if it is registered or not but he isn’t saying anything after the rights were read so. I’m guessing it isn’t the first run in.” Sam nodded his head then read the street intersection from his memory before turning back to October.

”I’d like you to stick around. At least till the cops show. I know you don’t want to get involved but even if we can’t get your name you can at least back the story.” not that he needed backing when telling a story it’s just Sam wanted to make sure it wouldn’t come down to ‘he said he said’. It was annoying when it came down to that. Some lawyers were better than others.

He nodded sheepishly when Ice cop asked for confirmation on his stupidity. He was shocked to not hear any further admonishment. A real blush touched his cheeks as he thought about how stupid he'd been to even get close to this situation. Now THAT was embarrassing.

"Yeah," he said. "Sorry."

He waited while icy phoned a friend. He had no reputation in this city so far, and had not racked up a record as far as he knew. He avoided that at all costs. Best they might find would be a missing persons report, and only if he gave them a real name. As far as he knew, nobody had ever described him for a crime report. He wasn't omniscient or omnipotent. It was possible he was mistaken. That would be bad. He felt a tinge uneasy.

"Yeah. Okay." He could stay. Running now would look guilty as hell. Staying might even give him a backstory if one of the cops ran into him again.

If the green guy could read his eye movement he’d see Sam rolling his eye. Sam continued to talk on the com. ”Right. I got a witness as well.” Sam stopped talking and then looked back to October. ”Okay we got a minute or two before they get here.” Sam said with a shrug as he looked around as a few people were staring.

Rolling his eye again Sam held up his badge to anyone who was a little too nosey. Clearly annoyed with everyone Sam asked October, ”Where you from dude?” Maybe this was Sam’s way of getting to know his collaborator a bit more.

A minute or two was about how long he figured they'd be waiting. Actually, it was probably a little less. In New York, with traffic as it is... but then, cops always seem to have ways of getting around traffic. Mostly by driving like maniacs with their lights on and forcing people to barrel out of the way. Super safe. He gave a single bob of his head to confirm that he'd heard the man. Then, he looked away.

Yeah, people were staring. They'd made a scene. It only made sense people were staring. The ridiculous human compulsion to clutter the area around a crime scene was a constant. People always seemed to want to be as close as possible to a car wreck in order to see it. Humans didn't like to wait, either. It was all "Me, me, me! Now, now, now!" Like Violet in the Chocolate Factory. Which probably made Ice Cop Wonka. Elliott glanced at him. Hopefully the tool wouldn't break into song. Pure imagination gave him a great mental image of that. It was an image he really didn't want to dwell on, so he moved on.

He'd tuned back in to Ice Cop right in time for another personal question. Hooray! Where was he from? The right corner of his mouth turned up slightly as Elliott answered the man. "Roswell, New Mexico." He said. And surprisingly, he was telling the truth. "You?"