Cafas tossed a wallet down a manhole, giving the still form he'd stripped it from another kick in the head on his way by. He'd wasted more of his reserves than the bastard had been worth. The phone was too easy to trace, so that got a good jolt and tossed into the dumpster. He strolled on, a pitiful eighty dollars richer. Guy hadn't even had the decency to wear a nice watch. Beat up thing looked old. He crushed it underfoot.

He was bored. Really bored. That guy had barely screamed, it was too early to really hit the club, and his supply was dry. He lit a cigarette and vaguely wished Tempest would call. Booty or work, either would do. A long draw did a little to ease his restlessness. He kept strolling down the alley before someone stumbled onto his friend back there.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt like picking up was where he was at. The mugging had been fun, but a hollow fun, because he'd just been using it as a substitute. Still, it was a bit early. Maybe he could set something up. What day was it? He didn't remember, but whatever, every night was a party. Someone would wanna go out. They always did. Who wouldn't?

Whatever, he didn't want to think about those people. He wanted to find his way back to the subway and hop back to Manhattan. The boroughs were fine for finding a quiet alley, not so much for picking marks. He needed the proper crowds for that. It was all a numbers game. The more people, the more likely he'd see someone worth his attention.

He lit his new cigarette from the old, then flicked the smouldering butt into a trash can, or near enough. He was a man with a plan, and the promise of a sordid night ahead. One less than reputable salesman would really seal the whole affair.

Electrical burns around the base of the skull, missing all his valuables, blossoming bruises. He was on the right track. Wick stood straight and walked away, with little regard for the man face down in the grime. He was a plant, after all. A mutant who had seen the error of his lack of cooperation. It was simply a pity Wick's mark hadn't managed to kill the disgusting creature. A bullet wound would be too obviously his work, and despite his lack of clear orders in the matter, he knew the agency liked to keep assets around. He would later pray the creature never recovered.

His brogues made little sound on the concrete as he slipped up the alley, fingers brushing his pistol to confirm its position. You never knew when one of these creatures would have a back up. A lot of them possessed the cunning of their demon fathers. Even the chosen had to be careful when dealing with them. He left his jacket unbuttoned, ready to draw, and continued on. He could smell the cigarette smoke it polluted its body with, still lingering over the smell of the refuse of society. Small surprise it would choose to move in such places, they were perfect dens for the forsaken to commit their sins. It protected them from the view of the world, kept their activities clandestine, kept the population fooled into believing them human.

Their alleys did not save them from him. Warrior of God and America. Their feeling of security was their downfall.

Wick peered up the side alley branching away. Lurking ahead he saw his mark, on the edge of the wan fall sunlight, adjusting its quilted hoodie and brushing off its stupidly ripped jeans. Too close to civilians. No way to take it quietly. As much as he wished to make an example, to take the war of heaven and hell to the public, it was against his orders. Oh but this one deserved it, a creature of lust, pride, gluttony, and too good at hiding its tracks. It was simply not the right time. His superiors knew best. Perhaps that temptation was a demon seeking to influence him into poor strategy? He would ask the father what he thought on Sunday.

For the time, Wick lurked in cover, watching. He knew what it was wearing, he knew what it looked like, it couldn't escape him. He prayed for Saint Michael the Archangel to guide him.

June loved walking the highline. What had once been a dumpy bit of rail and station was now a park elevated above the bustle of a thriving marketplace. The meatpackers borough had some of the highest violent crimes per capita in previous years. Now it was full of yuppies and a trendy nightlife that was just starting to pick up now that the sun was easing down below the horizon. From up here, she got to notice the hum of the streetlamps as they clicked on. She saw the grouping of friends as they met for dinner. And she saw her prey.

She didn't know what to do with herself now that she'd quit her job, but June was sure that this experience would make her stronger. She'd fallen in with an odd crowd and she wasn't sure she was a great fit. For now, picking up the odd job from the odd crowd was something of a relief. June wasn't used to this much free time and this little cashflow.

Her heels clicked on the concrete as she moved for a better shot with her borrowed DSLR camera and way above her pay grade extendo zoom lense. She'd dressed expensively because she'd stolen plenty of clothes before she left the fashion industry and she liked them. It was sheer coincidence that it helped her blend in here at this trendy hub of activity.

"Come to momma." June leaned out, further than she should have, over the highline railing. In her sights was a certain senator with a certain friend of his, something like 20 years separating them. Honeypot? Hooker? Who cared? June would follow them both throughout the evening and look for that final moneyshot that would help make it rain for her.

Thunderclap ran his fingers through his hair, trying to neaten it up, so to speak. A thin stream of smoke escaped his lips and he stepped directly into the flow of humanity, attracting angry muttering from a man he'd cut off. The mutant might have given him something to really be upset about somewhere quieter.

While the flow of people wasn't ideal for what he had in mind, it was almost perfect for some light fingered wealth acquisition. He stumbled by a suited man, sweating despite the mild weather. He'd seemed likely, too ugly by far for the arm candy he was walking with. He seemed nervous. She held Cafas' gaze as he regained his footing with a mumbled apology. He ran his eyes over her and countered her gaze with a none too subtle wink. The mutant picked up the pace as the older man started to bluster at him.

He saw it from the corner of his eye. A camera poking over the High Line rail. On its own hardly interesting, but he was an old hand at covert photography, and that was a covert photographer if he'd ever seen one. He watched them from under his eyebrows, seemingly paying attention to "his" phone. When the camera moved, he caught a glimpse of the photographer, and his interest increased still more. Who was she? Who was she stalking? Did she have plans for the night? The questions burned in him. His Cigarette burned out. He spat the butt onto the pavement.

A horn blared as Thunderclap stepped off the sidewalk, holding proud his middle finger at the car, and the woman yelling out the window at him. He barely spared her a glance. Too old for him. He tried once more to guess the stupid swipe pattern on his brand new phone as he crossed the other lane of traffic to similar fanfare. Was it ten before they wiped it? Some of them did that, which was good and bad. Wallets were simpler, he'd been trying for the wallet. Giving up, he tucked the device into his pocket, taking stairs two at a time. He had to pause at the top to cough and catch his breath for a moment. In just a few seconds he was moving again.

Dark hair, pretty face, camera. Where was she? Stupid damn trees. Well, it wasn't like she could lose him completely, there was only one path. He started down it back towards where he'd seen her. His face was set for the game, a smirk just short of smug, eyes up and confident. Best foot forward. Cigarette unlit in his lips.

Cafas spotted his mark. She looked like a smoker to him. Arty photography girls always were. Without the slightest hesitation he hopped up and sat on the rail, heedless of the twenty or more feet of empty air behind him.

"Hey, you have a lighter? Cos you. Are. Smokin'."

She wouldn't normally have noticed, but there was a chorus of long-winded honks as some jerk flipped the bird all the way across the street.

He was nothing to write home about in a muscle shirt and tight jeans. Here in the city there were thousands like him, but June did snap his photo. His lack of f*cks and the way he dangled that cigarette was truly impressive. After that it was back to the job.

She moved a bit further down for a better angle on her target as they settled onto the patio of bistro. The Frenchwoman was jealous of the food, all small and plated fancy. It appealed to her sense of art, but would not appeal, she assumed, to her wallet. June zoomed in on the man's hand lying over the younger woman's and snapped the shot before zooming back out to get that in context. His wedding ring was still on his finger. Whatever did that mean?

June wished she could have seen the woman's face. Why was she there? Money? Lust? Surely she wanted something. surely it wasn't love. Since her pay day was tied up on Mister U.S. Lawmaker, she didn't bother moving. This was her best angle for his face and to keep herself hidden from them. He certainly seemed... radiant. June's mouth puckered with disgust.

He was old. And gross. What would any man or woman see in a turkey neck that got paid to do nothing but campaign to do it again? She was following the waiter with her lense when a butt landed next to her elbow. Good or bad, it was hard to judge planted so close to a twenty foot drop.

> "Hey, you have a lighter? Cos you. Are. Smokin'."

Her camera lowered and she was caught between disgust and amusement. It was best not to encourage such behaviour like talking to her or looking at her.

"You reek." Tempting as it was to dump his ass over, that would be murder. June simply turned away with all the disgust in her heart for the situation below and it wasn't her fault if her hips swayed with the triumph that came from flat out refusal. It was the heels. Really.

A jolt of anger shot through Cafas, darkening his eyes if not his face. It passed in a moment, leaving a space for determination to force its way in. People didn't just say no to him. Especially people that he'd picked for an easy target. The subconscious hip swing gave away her feigned disinterest anyway. Yeah, that was it, she was trying to game him back, but her body gave her away, brushing up against him.

"All good darlin', I have my own." He fished the monogrammed zippo out and lit the cigarette. There was a pause while he took a drag. "Sorry, manners, you want one?" Cafas offered the open pack to his mark, "All the French models smoke, their photographers must too." He was a little proud of that one actually. It had enough possible implications to really throw her off, but it wasn't a direct insult. Unlikely to ring alarms as negging, still doing the trick. Plus, it implied he knew french models. Which he did. But the implication was more important. He blew a smoke ring that floated around the pack, more or less, before being swept away.

Waiting for her to make a move, Thunderclap scanned the street below casually, making sure she knew she couldn't hold his full attention. Perhaps it was only coincidence that his eyes swept the general area she was photographing rather frequently. He figured that's all it would be taken as, but he knew a damn stalker when he saw one, and the sooner he spotted her mark, the sooner he could leverage his knowledge.

There were a few people it could have been really, including ol' sweaty swipe password. A few attractive or rich looking guys, a few important looking people, some shady looking ones. He'd keep an eye on the photo previews as they came up, he was having no luck guessing, and it would open up so many avenues. Or alleys. He'd see where the night took him.

The creature was moving, no doubt off on its next mission for Lucifer. Wick made the sign of the Holy Trinity and followed. The creature moved into the flow of unwitting humanity without an ounce of subtlety. Wick was not so brash. That he was the one that needed to be covert rankled him. That filth drew attention to himself as if he had no reason to fear it. Soon he would learn, for all the good it would do him. This one Wick would not take in. He didn't care how useful it might be, it would be destroyed with extreme prejudice just as soon as it offered him the opportunity. They would never be able to prove the crimes it had committed. The threads had been hard enough to trace back to it in the first place. From what they understood, no chip would survive contact. It was the only option.

Perhaps the scientists. Harness the devil's own evil for the glory of God, and the good of the greatest nation on Earth. It seemed sinful to him, like the devil tempting them. The forbidden fruit. His superiors knew what they were doing though. The Lord had set Wick a path, who was he to question it?

The devil spawn continued to draw attention, and if Wick was not mistaken, and he was not, break the seventh commandment. From a Senator of the United States of America no less. A Senator with a woman the was certainly not his wife. He had always had suspicions about the man. He needed to be led back to God. Wick would pray for him. He always prayed for those in office to follow The Lord. He would beg the lord to forgive this one, and lead him back.

There the hellion went again, in a chorus of horns that was one good solid thud from satisfying. He seemed to be bee-lining for the High Line stairs. That posed issues. It was far too open for Wick's liking, and he would stand out. Well, he was a trained agent of an alphabet agency. It was time to earn that title once more. He crossed the road at the nearest crossing and looped back to the stairs perhaps a minute behind his quarry. The Agent climbed the stairs calmly, checking his watch in a casual manner as a group descended. By the time he stepped out onto the walkway, the creature was harassing some poor woman, one stiff breeze from his death.

What was his interest in her? Debauchery? Or did he know her? She certainly treated him as one that had met him before, all closed body language. Well, if he knew anything of the disgusting creature, he would be following that woman for some time at the least. The lens would make them easy to pick at a distance. The agent walked a short way beyond them at a meandering pace, and stopped to examine a flower bed, trying to feign a relaxed attitude.

Her heart sank.

He was still here. Stinking up her air. Souring her already dubious mood. She was supposed to be focusing on the mark. Instead she was very seriously considering what it would take to make this individual to leave. Ignoring him didn't seem to have much of an effect. He was quite capable of yammering on about nothing all by himself.

To make matters worse, the couple she was snooping on was doing absolutely nothing of note. They were just... sitting. Making googly eyes at each other. And talking. She got more artful photos of the spider in the web that had woven its trap between two branches of the nearest tree.

God. She was going to be here forever. And this human bit of scum was stuck on her metaphorical shoe.

Manners? Manners? Manners would be leaving when he was not wanted.

"Perhaps I was not clear." She snatched his cigarette from his mouth and maintained eye contact as she stubbed it on the railing between them. It was true, she was around it enough that it didn't make her gag beyond the smell, but the smell was enough of a deterrent as far as June was concerned. He and his kind made that doubly true. "You disgust me. I am busy. Cut your losses and find someone else." She did her best to not give him a chance to reply. She turned away, again, but this time kept walking. There were other spots. She would just find a seat at a cafe or something and get off her feet. Maybe she would order one of those perfect little tarts.

Her heart was galloping from just that much confrontation. She was glad that she did not have telepathy. The urge to check his mind would have been too great. What she did have was strength of conviction. There was no way in hell.

That. Little.

Who in the hell did she think she was, stubbing out his cigarette? Slinging insults like he wasn't batting well below his league with her. She should have been happy for the damn attention! He whipped a hand out to grab her and have a chat about respect. He missed as she moved purposefully away, tiny plasma arcs playing across his skin ineffectually. The hand balled into a fist, but loosened a few heartbeats later.

Nope, this was beyond hard to get, this was flat out just the wrong angle. He took a breath of air. It just wasn't the place to do something more satisfying about the situation, and there was still some room for recovery. Plus, he wanted to confirm what he thought he'd seen on the screen of her camera. He waited a flustered beat longer and set off after her, dodging around in front and falling into step backwards. He left her a little more breathing room, it fit the plan of attack. Apologetic expression, sheepishly downcast eyes, yeah that was the way to go. He'd pulled this recovery dozens of time. He'd pulled from it dozens of times too.

"Okay okay, look, sorry, I uh, I'm not real good at talking to girls, and the cool guys in movies are always like that." He shrugged and stumbled, quite by accident, over his own feet. His hand whipped out and grabbed the rail for balance; The rail he hit with an uncomfortable amount of weight a second later. The reddening around his cheeks and ears was very real after that. "C- Can I get a do over? Hi, I'm Teddy, I saw you, and you seemed cool. Your camera is neat, is it like, a professional one?" He kept his eyes down mostly, flicking up with an awkward, and pained, smile. He was hunting for another glimpse of the camera display while he could. It was such a perfect excuse, though it gave his game away a little.

She hadn't noticed it before, but after she turned away, June's power reached back toward where she'd been.

He was a mutant. She'd just insulted a mutant creepazoid that didn't have two ****s to rub together. Who knew what he could do? Did he have range? Would he dare using it in broad dusklight?
June picked up the pace. She was here for a job and all of this was wasting her time. There was no shame in running from a time waste. No shame in wanting to live her best life.

And then there he was. Again. June didn't break pace, but he didn't try to stop her, or crowd her, or even slow her down. He wanted to be cool. Like the guys in the movies.

Ew.

He stumbled back, but that had to be an act, right? He didn't falter in walking out in front of cars. There was no way a French brunette could bring him almost to his knees.

June paused. She should have blown past him, the stairs down to the other side of the street were just there, a handy exit just waiting. June's eyes flicked back to Teddy, unmerciful as flint. Whatever his power was, she let hers coil like snake around it until she, too, held that same power. The string of his power held tight and she watched him as she pulled that metaphorical string out of his body.

June let out a puff of air, part irritation and part relief.

Now they could talk.

"Yes, it's a very expensive camera, Teddy. I have expensive tastes." Her tone implied that he did not fit those tastes. Not. one. bit. But, as a concession to his feelings and to hopefully get him off her back, she turned the preview screen around and showed him the pretty spider she'd caught in its web where the background was all blurred out and the spider stood in crisp perfection. She also made sure that she and the camera were out of reach. He'd have to pull some serious tomfoolery if he wanted it. "Lovely night. You enjoy yours."

Now she could walk off again, but then he might get too far away for her to guarantee that he wouldn't use his power on her. It was better to attempt a stare down.

Why Teddy. What a stupid name. Picking on the fly screwed him so often. He needed to think about it before hand. That's how he got all the good ones. He just sounded like someone's kid with Teddy. It took effort not to cringe when she used it. Less than it took to not just hit her in the mouth for condescending to him. What the hell did she know? Expensive taste. His shirt alone was worth two hundred bucks, don't even start him with the jeans.

Just when he'd given the whole thing up as a failure, there she went turning the camera so he could look clearly. It was a pretty good shot actually, at least at that resolution. It was all he could do not to laugh. Now that was good luck. The electric mutant turned his eyes to meet the French woman's cold stare. She looked like she was waiting for him to go. He stood up off the railing and brushed his shirt down without breaking eye contact. The confidence was blooming back into those electric blues.

"Keep trying to," He offered wryly, " 'T's'so special 'bout him? Must be something if you're using that to stalk him." His face was unmasked amusement at having caught her out. She wasn't just taking people watching photos. He had not doubt she was stalking Sweaty, and he wasn't about to pretend he didn't know. Covert photography was one of his favourite hobbies. Not usually old dudes though. Actually, she'd have been a prime candidate if she hadn't decided to act all superior.

He had so many questions running around about the situation. What was her angle? Who were the photos for? What was under those threads? He intended to get some answers. He needed to play his card now. "Probably some interesting **** on his phone if he's that important. Shame you don't have it." He pulled the device from his pocket casually, turning it over in his hands as if it might just reveal some secrets on the outside. "If you give me your number, I'll let you know." He brought his eyes back to hers and winked. Being out of arms reach worked both ways.

Stalk? What was he talking about?

June turned the camera back around and was beyond irritated to see that the spider she'd meant to show off had been clicked past. She must have hit the button when she'd turned it around and now the man had seen her stalker photos. Grrrr. She couldn't really afford to botch this job, but apparently this moron was going to do his best to help that along.

Or to make an absolute fool of her.

June rolled her eyes at his ploy to get her number. How stupid did he think she was? There was no way in hell that was his phone. Her head snapped up from wishing the worst death and taxes on whoever made the display buttons so sensitive.

Was it...?

It didn't matter if it was, she decided. She was hired for photos not theft.

"As if his phone just fell into your lap." June flipped through a few photos, more than she expected to have to page through, in order to get to the photo of him. June turned the camera around once more to show Teddy himself: this gorgeous man with a heart of s*** and 2 middle fingers.

"Besides, who says I'm following him?"

"Teddy" cocked an eyebrow at the photo, and flashed a smile that was just a little too much teeth. That was a good photo. Maybe he'd use it on MyFace, if he ended up with the camera. Might trace her disappearance back to him though. Seemed a pity to lose it, but there wasn't exactly a shortage of good photos of him. Hell, it was the bad one's you'd be hard pressed to find. It was just a consequence of looking so good.

"I know I look good sweetheart, but you ain't following me." She was way too calm for that. If she had been stalking him, she wouldn't be taunting him about it. Not if she had half a brain anyway. She'd be running, in one way or another. Now it was far too late for that. She'd find out just how good he was at stalking, just as soon as she was alone. If all the angry words ended in her taking him home, all the easier. The less energy it took him to teach this stupid girl a lesson, the more he had to dispose of evidence. Then maybe grab some drinks.

"An' no, this didn' fall in me lap. You feel free to though." The same edge in his smile rang through his wink. "I j'st happen t' be good with me fingers," The mutant wiggled said digits in a less than subtle manner. "and he had big pockets." Cafas shrugged, clicking the screen to life to show the background. "Besides, why the **** would I have some old, ugly, fat ***** on my lock screen?" He kept himself ready to flinch the phone away in a heartbeat. He didn't really think she'd try to snatch it. Besides, how far would she even get in those shoes?

"Now, I have somethin' you want, you got somethin' I want, I'm pre''y sure there's a deal t' cut here babe." My how big his teeth were in that grin. How predatory his wandering eyes.

He was gum on the underside of her shoe. She didn't want him there. He would not even be scraped off.

He didn't think she was stalking him? She didn't have to. He had plenty of his life's details displayed to June's keen eye.

"I know your game. You're a mutant and you think that gives you the might to make your actions right. This year's fashion, last year's attitude. Didn't know know sexual harassment is a little cliche these days? You drink too much, smoke too much, f*ck juuuuuust enough in your opinion." She held up her hand like a chef's okay. Just enough for June was none at all. She'd considered getting rid of her virginity just to have it done with. This man so clearly wanted to take it, but he was so disgusting that his prettiness didn't outweigh the grimey, gross vibe he oozed from every pore. "But your taste is not so discerning in that regard. You don't give two sh*ts about who with and so it's no compliment to me to have your attention."

All crude innuendo aside, it didn't look like a phone he would have. The man standing unironically in front of the US Flag as a lock screen was double the confirmation that it wasn't Teddy's phone. She didn't know what to do about it, though. He was trying to use it as leverage and she wasn't about to let him. June wrangled her power on a tighter leash to make extra sure his power was on lockdown. This confrontation was making her more anxious the longer it continued.

> "Now, I have somethin' you want, you got somethin' I want, I'm pre''y sure there's a deal t' cut here babe."

"Ew." That was her involuntary answer. Her voluntary one wasn't much better. She made sure to say it loud enough for all to hear because she didn't doubt that he would let this go. "Go f*ck yourself."

She'd tried to be nice before, but he'd exhausted every last bit of patience she had. Ew. So for the second time, June walked away. She would have to get rid of the camera if he did attack her. Would smashing it be enough? June worked to pop out the memory card as she clacked herself over toward the stairs.