Juniper was feeling pretty great. Although the bank she had hit a few days ago hadn't had as much stocked within the vault as she wanted, but it was enough for at least a month or two. She had food, she had her bills paid, she was set for a bit. Plenty of time to plan for the next heist.

As it was, she had decided to celebrate a little. A night on the town with a few drinks, and maybe looking for a bed warmer at some point, if she felt like it. There was always a little bit of a slump after a job, coming down off of the adrenaline from the actual crime, but also the immediate paranoid of getting caught. It was habit to try and lay low for a bit after.

Tonight was her first excursion out, and she'd already visited one bar and a club, but the club had been a little lackluster. She was on her way to the next place, following a map on her phone. It was rated well, for what she couldn't gather. The reviews didn't point to anything specific other than there being good alcohol and an attractive bartender or two.

It was getting late by the time she was on her way to the next place. The sun hadn't fully set yet, but it was certainly getting darker. Juniper avoided most of the crowds mulling about, phasing through people where needed to keep from any unwanted touching. It was a weekend and that meant more people than normal were out and about, which was just fine with her. She didn't want a repeat of what had happened the last time she'd braved the wilds of New York on her own.

Still, she tried to keep a bit more of an eye out for her surroundings than usual, using her habit of constantly being mostly intangible to her advantage as an early warning sign in case any more of those types Were around.

The 19 year slowed as she passed a gathered crowd, attempting to peer around people to see what everyone was ogling at. Due to her smaller frame it was damn near impossible, and if she wanted to know she was going to have to elbow her way through the crowd. What she spotted when she made it to the front was a street dance, she guessed. She had seen a few from afar, but never up close. The small towns she was used to didn't often have any of the theatrics big towns did.

From what she saw of it what with her brief appearance, she liked it. She could dance a little herself, but... not like that. She felt and probably looked like a stalk of wheat flopping around in a windstorm compared to that.

Smiling ruefully, she dug her wallet out and pulled a rather large bill from it, stooping to drop it wherever the performer collected donations, before shoving the wallet back where it had come from and turning to leave. It didn't take much effort to get back through the crowd and on her merry way, with her hands tucked in the front pocket of the large red and black Illinois state sweatshirt she was wearing.

It was easy to steal. Honestly, for him, it was the easiest thing in the world for him to steal. However for as much fun as it could be, he needed other ways to fill his time. He wasn’t just going to be a thief for the rest of his life, ya know? And though he had a minor setback stealing from that director of that stage show he managed to be cast in (he’d get back at them eventually), his heart was still set on being a famous dancer.

One day. Meanwhile, he had to make a living somehow. He was good at stealing, but every now and again, he needed to do things the old fashioned way. It helped to keep him limber and sharpen his skills. Besides, the tourists and the already buzzed partiers often had loose wallets.

It was a simple set up: Find an empty patch of concrete, lay out a cardboard box, set up a music player, and dance your heart out. New York was a place built around creatives and allowing people to express themselves however they wanted in order to scrap by on the kindness (and gullibility) of strangers.

Charles was in his prime right now. Dressed down to just a pair of baggy jeans and a white tank top, he kept his music player (a Zune, because who would steal a Zune?) on a nearby table that belted out a high energy song for him to dance to. He moved in perfect rhythm with it, twisting and turning as he combined his capoeira skills with the high precision movements of his dance style. It was quite the show to behold.

After a particularly physics defying move, Charles kicked his legs up, twisted his body and landed with a thud on his feet. Straightening up at the end of the song, he grinned as he turned his gaze onto the crowd, all of whom were clapping, smiling, and completely enamoured with his performance. He gave a small bow and watched as a particularly pretty blond set some money in an upturned hat of his.

She was pretty, but there was something more interesting about her...the money she flashed. Hell, it looked almost as if she had just had a payday. Well, hello gorgeous. Grinning wide, he gave her a particular broad smile then turned and started to collect his things.

It was fairly quick to grab everything. His Black and red, button-up shirt was slipped over his tank top, he folded and tossed the cardboard into a nearby trashcan, and, after collecting his money, slipped his hat back onto his head. With a smile and a bow, he bid the crowd a farewell before stepping off after the blonde.

He only made it a few steps before he caught sight of her. But instead of approaching, he hung back, simply following as nonchalantly as possible to figure out where she was going. It didn’t take long. The club wasn’t far from his location and she seemed to be steering herself there. Good. Dark space. Loud music. Lots of close dancing. Honestly, she made stealing from her as easy as possible.

All he needed was an opportunity.

Getting inside the place was easy-peazy, according to the reviews. All she had to do was march to the front of the line and lift her sweater. Boom. Velvet rope lifted and she was in. Patrick really was that much of a perv.

Those waiting in line behind her audibly groaned. She stuck her tongue out at them as she went inside.

Just past the doors wasn't anything special, really. She could hear and feel pounding bass, and the further she went down past a desk where you could drop off coats and purses (excellent way to get your #%$@ stolen), and through a dark hallway, the more and more lights flashed about, and the heavier the smell of sweat and musk was.

Ah, it was one of those clubs.

She stopped just before hitting the crowd, debating if this was really where she wanted to spent any time. She typically didn't mind bars with dancing, not that she often partook, but this was next level dancing. People gyrating and grinding. She hovered for a moment before spying a very well stocked bar, and that made up her mind for her. Yay booze!

Phasing all of the bits of herself she didn't want people trying to touch, she headed on into the mass of bodies like she was wading through a bog. Or, at least the expression on her face said as much.

She probably should have just done to one of the rainbow bars again. They had less touchy feeling going on than this.

Considering that everyone was trying out there trying to grind their clothes off, she was happy to find a few seats available. Juniper plopped herself in one and spun in a circle for a moment, until the alcohol dispensing god behind the counter came over.

"Can I have a Gin and tonic, please?" She flashed him her fake ID and a million watt smile, which was pointedly ignored. S'all good though, bartenders did get hit on a lot. She couldn't blame him.

It also didn't stop her from flirting with his female coworker, though.

When she had her drink, she spun back around slightly to watch the dancing.

... Could it really be called dancing though? Like.. really? That guy out on the street had been dancing better than a lot of these people. Most of them were just haphazardly throwing their hips around.

She'd never missed a good old fashioned line dance so much until right then.

Charles knew a prime target when he saw one and he certainly saw one with the blonde who dropped a hefty bill into his hat. He could have let her go, fished the waters for easier prey without having to put in the extra work. But this seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up. If she were willing to give her money freely to a street performer, then surely she wouldn’t have any problem giving a little more. It was for a good cause, after all -- his comfort.

It was pretty easy to trail her from behind. The jacket she wore flashed like a signal fire amongst the dredges of the crowd. Even better was the fact that she was walking into a club that he was increasingly familiar with. The bouncer was a perv, so much so that he was too busy oogly chests that Charles hardly needed to use his powers.

After the blonde entered, Charles waited until the next lady walked up. He pressed against a wall, just on the other side of the line. When a smaller, quiet, mousy girl stepped before him, she quickly lifted her shirt to give both the bouncer and, inadvertently, Charles, an eyeful. Not bad. He’d definitely have to find this little “Mouse” later. Maybe she had a warm burrow he could partake in after he was done robbing Ms. Illinois.

Speaking of…

It was simple enough for him to slip inside. The bouncer was too distracted and the appropriately nicknamed “Mouse” was too flush with embarrassment to notice him. Creeping in through the door, Charles follow the flashing of the lights and the scent of “grind sweat” that hung like a heavy fragrance in the air. Admittedly Charles didn’t occupy this place often but enough that some of the staff recognized him; it did make for an amazing hunting ground. People were close, everyone wanted to be touched, it was dark and heavily scented, the perfect picking grounds for the right kind of pickpocket.

And Charles was the perfection pickpocket.

But it was as his eyes drifted across the scene, picking out loose jewelry and the indentation of wallets, he soon spotted his quarry hanging out by the bar. She was alone, but with a bright smile. Her wandering eye was easily spotted, shifting between bartenders and seemingly ignoring a few of the other patrons who were trying to get her attention. Aside from that, the bar was mostly empty so it would be easy enough for him to get in close.

With swagger he carried himself over to the bar, ignoring those who catcalled or groped. He knew how much others wanted him but he wouldn’t be distracted from his current course of action. When he finally made it to the bar, he didn’t speak to the blonde, but instead faced forward, reached over the edge, and grabbed a bottle and a shot glass. The bartender, turned and shot him a dirty look. Charles just grinned.

“Come on, Charles, we’re busy,” the bartender said. “No helping yourself.”

”Oh come on, Benny,” Charles said, glancing to the blonde out of the corner of his eye, but smiling his brightest to the man. ”Some of the best things in life are seized from the grasps of others.” After a second he produced some of his freshly earned money and set it on the counter. ”See?” Charles said as the bartender took the money from him. ”I didn’t want to give you money and yet you took it. Feels nice, right?”

The bartender flipped him the bird, to which Charles placed his hand over his heart, feigning injury as he glanced to the blonde next to him.

”See that?” he asked her. ”I feel like I could sue for harassment.”

She got shot down *twice*, but that was alright. She could have done without the comment about her height and the insinuation that she was too young, but whatever.

By the time the new character had appeared she had already lazily waved away at least three people looking to try and get her to dance with them. That was as likely to happen as her spontaneously learning how to fly.

"No thanks." She flapped a hand at a fourth, before they could even get their mouth open enough for words to fit out. They made a face and grumbled about what she was even going in a place like this if she was just going to sit at a bad the whole time.

Just as the commotion was striking up from somewhere beside her, she had decided to lean her head back on the bar and pull her phone out to tap her way through another level of Slappy Cat. She'd gotten pretty far last time, but with time to spare until something interesting happened she could try and beat her latest score.

She glanced over at the 'Seized from the grip of others' comment.

Hey... wasn't that the dude from the street? Huh. What a small world.

She hadn't bothered to listen to the conversation before that, and was mildly amused by the hot bartender flipping off the mystery dancer. She shrugged slightly at his banter, grinning despite herself.

"I dunno, man. You could probably take it as an invitation, too." She wasn't familiar with their banter by a long shot, but spotting the slight pink creep into the bartender's cheeks was a sign if she ever saw one. Maybe that was why she'd been shot down so easily?

The distraction caused her cat character to slam into a wall, and when she looked back at her screen it was flashing the oh so terrible 'YOU DIED' notification at her. "Damnit."

Juniper pocketed the device again, spinning her chair back around so she could grab her cup again. "You had some pretty nice moves out there, dude." She drained her cup and munched on a piece of ice for a moment.

"Is that a pretty lucrative businesses here?"

Wow. She wasn’t paying attention. That was almost sacrilege. He was talking near her. That alone should have made her doubly pay attention to him. But...whatever. As she finally came out of whatever stupor her phone game put her in, he still shared with her that winning smile of his. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to casually gesture to the bartender that there was more there than just his annoyance at Charles helping himself to the alcohol.

Turning back to the man, Charles watched the blush color his cheeks before he turned away and tried to focus on a new customer. Interesting. Secretly he filed that away into his memory. Maybe he could use that to his advantage at another time. He wasn’t really interested in the bartender but he would lower his standards if it meant a warm bed and a hot meal for a couple days. Of course, eventually Charles would grow board and head off again, thus making this place uninhabitable in the future.

Bother. Oh well. He’d save that for a last resort kind of decision. Meanwhile, he was going to keep up his ruse of getting closer to the loaded blonde. If she were so free with flashing so many bills, clearly she wouldn’t mind floating a little more his way.

He snickered in reply. ”Maybe another day...when I’m not particularly enchanted by someone else.”

Wide smile pulled at his lips. Such words had been used before on many similar women. They were often too brainwashed by movies and books and TV shows where love proclamations were made within an hour of meeting a handsome guy. Often it resulted in these women becoming puddy in his hands. Made thieving from them much easier.

Sadly it seemed that his familiar tactics weren’t fully working on the girl. She had turned back to her game, muttered a curse under her breath, then turned to face him again. The topic had apparently shifted. She remembered him. Good. That was something he could build off of. Good conversation starter.

”Thank you. I do what I can,” he said and flagged down the bartender for another shot. The bartender returned, refilled his glass. Charles ignored it and instead watched the woman in front of him as she inquired as to his business practices.

He sighed and made a wavering gesture with his hand towards her question. Honestly it wasn’t as easy as all that. It depended on the day, the weather, and what was going on during the season. And he imparted that much onto her.

”Depends on the day,” he said. ”Fridays and weekends are usually the best. Usually tourist or weekend visitors who want to get drunk as early as possible. They usually tip the best because they rarely know how much they are dropping,” he snickered. ”Sometimes it just depends. Kind of a crap shoot when I decide to dance on the corner.” He gave her a nod. ”You just visiting New York or just an Illinois fan?” he asked, gesturing to the Illinois patch on her sweatshirt.

Enchanted! Hah!

"I bet that line works on a lot of people here." She grinned wolfishly at him, and let another chunk of ice slip into her mouth. At least he hadn't dropped one of the old cliche ones on her. 'Did it hurt when you fell from heaven~?'

Though, she always loved being able to use the classic 'Did you just call me Satan' response back. Thank you, internet!

With her face plopped in one hand and an elbow on the table, she chewed on her ice as he explained more about what he did and busy times and such. It made sense. Some places in the city were sure to be busier than others. Tourists certainly would drop more than others, seeing as they usually came to see unusual things and waste a bunch of money. "You ever try one of those areas where the tourist buses drop them all off for lunch and stuff? I'd bet you'd make a pretty penny setting up close to one of those."

She glanced down at her sweater and plucked at it. "Neither. I stole it from some guy at a frat party while I was traveling through the state... What was his name...?" She spaced out for a second, before shrugging. "Meh, doesn't matter. It's mine now."

Juniper eyed her empty glass, contemplating if she wanted to bounce and try and find a less noisy bar, or stay and have another drink.

In the end laziness won. "Could I get another, please?"

A few moments later a new, full glass was set down and her old one taken back.

Yeah. Charles knew he was failing in his attempts to woe. Most of the ladies he came across in these types of establishments were purring like kittens, ready for any stranger to show them just a little bit of tenderness before spilling everything. Unfortunately it seemed that this was not one of those cases. Far from it, actually. With that snarky laugh and the lazy look, he inwardly groaned. He knew the type of person this was: the Sarcastic Nihilist.

They were a growing breed of person that made his game difficult to play. They didn’t fall for the old tropes because they were too bitter against the world to feel any of his words. A tragic thing, of course, especially for one as pretty as her, but Charles knew when he was at the disadvantage. Looked like he wasn’t really going to get anywhere with her the old fashioned way. May as well get as close as he could before stealing what he could.

He snickered, visibly growing more relaxed after understanding he wouldn’t get anywhere with her (at least on the surface). ”You’d be surprised,” he chuckled, turning to face the bar and taking another shot of his drink. He partially hissed at the burning but shook it off and set the glass upside down.

She at least seemed somewhat interested in his process concerning his dance routine and choices of venues. The idea she offered wasn’t a bad one and happened to be one that he had thought of more often than once. He nodded in agreement.

”Yup. Done those. Establishments are cracking down on shooing us performers out of the way, though,” he lamented with a sigh. ”A surprising amount of thefts at those locations, you know?” he smirked and flagged down the bartender for another drink.

Charles’ been in New York for about a year now and he was fairly well versed in where the good money could be made. The problem was that he wasn’t here in an honest capacity. Not totally. He wanted to make his living the way he wanted to, at least until fame and his dreams plopped in his lap or his bought his way into it. Because of that he knew the underhanded and best ways to achieve what he wanted.

When asked about her sweater, she shrugged and admitted that it wasn’t hers. It was stolen. Interesting. So it seemed that he wasn’t the only thief here. If anything she was so blatant and uncaring about it that he wondered just exactly what was her deal. Seeing as his prospects were running dry, it was probably better to keep his interaction short.

He chuckled as he waited for his refill. ”You know what they say,” he said. ”If you can’t remember their names, their probably not important enough to remember.” He sighed, seeing his refill wasn’t coming and shrugged it off before turning to her. ”Well, Ms. Illinois, seeing as you are thus far immune to my best charms, I guess I’ll see myself off to other distant corners.” Standing up from the bar, he slipped one hand in his pocket, and held the other one out to her. ”A goodbye shake of good luck for the both of us?”

She snorted at his joke.

"Considering the surprising number of times banks around here get robbed, i'm surprised they bother at all with street theft."

Like... seriously. All of the property damage and chaos she had seen in her short time in the city and they want to focus on keeping the sidewalks clear? There was probably with money somewhere who had complained loudly enough to get someone to do something about it. "@#$%in stupid, if you ask me. There are more important things to worry about out there."

He earned himself another laugh with his comment about remembering names. Oh, if he only knew the half of it.

She watched as he stood, held out a hand, and seemed to offer her a farewell. "I wouldn't say i'm immune to them, so far." She eyeballed his hand for a moment before deciding that no hard could come from it, and reached out to shake it with her own.

She offered a lazy grin. "If anything, I think I may just be warming up to them... but, i'll let you go to seek out easier conversations if you want."

It was a different tactic. Things were not going initially as planned but she wasn’t flat out ignoring him either. He guessed that that was progress of some kind. After all, if she were to completely ignore him then this whole endeavour could be far more difficult. No she at least engaged somewhat in communicating with him and that was good enough to allow for some distraction. But he knew better than to push his luck. She was onto most of his more charming tricks, it was better to cut his losses and take what he could.

So he bowed out. His comment didn’t seem to faze her. Instead she merely passed it off like everything else he was saving, with a conversative chuckle. It grew a little more honest every time but by the time he got her where he really wanted her, it would probably wouldn’t be worth it. A handshake and a well-wish of good luck. That was big of him, wasn’t it?

Her hand snaked out, offered to him. Graciously he took it and offered her a warm smile, his eyes darting to the watch that she wore for only the briefest, imperceptible of moments before meeting her eyes again.

”Oh I’m certainly up for the challenge,” he smiled. ”But maybe another night when I haven’t spent all afternoon dancing for change.” Shake. Shake. Shake (plus subtle unlatching). ”Whether you believe me or not, it was an absolute pleasure meeting you.” As soon as the watch was in his hand, he quickly made it invisible, making the strap wind around his fingers so it couldn’t be seen without his permission. ”My name is Charles, by the way. Charles the Danc--” THUD!!

Charles moved in an attempt to add a bit of a flourish to his step and bow. However, in doing so he nudged the bar pretty hard with his foot, causing it to quiver just enough to cause the remains of his drink to tip over and spill the contents down the length of the bar. Charles, deeply apologetic, quickly snagged up so napkins and knelt down in front of her.

”Shit! Sorry. I’m normally better aware of my space than that…” he said.

He mimed his two shots having a slight effect on him and shook his head. Charles grumbled, offering her a wad of napkins while he tried to clean up whatever was on the ground. Standing, his hand, which was invisible, very subtle moved to the front pocket of her sweater. He had seen the wallet in there, the same one he saw her flash before when she dropped money into his hat. Luckily it was an easy mark.

His unseen hand slipped towards her pocket, still trying to mop up the mess and shouting at the bartender to bring her another drink as an apology. He could get it. He knew he could. And once he did, he would make a quick exit and vanish into the crowd. Literally. Others would say he should be happy with just the watch, but no. What was one more prize for the evening?

She wasn't really sad that he was about to go... she didn't tend to get attached like that to many things, or people. It was a little disappointing, maybe, because once she got past the cheesy lines he wasn't all that bad. Not like the rest of the troglodytes swarming around behind them.

He also had warm hands; not super rough either. What a pity.

She listened to him silently, waiting for the moment she could give her own half-assed goodbye, when he bumped the bar and sent the cup on its side and spilling everywhere. She didn't even flinch, simply choosing to phase any portion of herself that could possibly end up betting spilled on.

"Haha... Nah, no worries. I'm fine." She accepted the napkins and started pushing around liquid carefully, aware that she might have been pushing more onto the floor through her, for him to clean up as well. Maybe she didn't care though, as having someone bent over that close to her butt while cleaning up the floor was... eh, not the most welcome thing at the moment?

Of course she didn't notice his invisible hand, but he was sure to notice that when he crept right into her pocket his hand was just going to flail around in the air where nothing currently existed.

Her eyebrows damn near shot up into her hairline at him ordering her another drink, since that sort of implied that he would be buying it for her. Unless he was trying to pull a page from one of her books and take off leaving her with the bill?

...Heh. That would be humerus at least.

"Really, it's fine. You don't have to do that. I'm probably not going to be here much longer anyway. This isn't exactly my type of bar."

She shot an apologetic grin at the cute bartender. "Er... no offense."

It was always too easy. He felt the watch slip into his hand and immediately slipped it into his pocket with a subtle movement. All he had left to do was reach her wallet and this evening would be a total success! But something odd had happened. Charles knew that he had a light touch. A very light touch. He was able to slip a badge off an officer’s uniform without so much as a glance. But there was something odd about this time. When he reached for the pocket that he was sure was there...he felt nothing.

Charles had experience. He lifted wallets all of the time. Far easier than the likes of the watch he just took off of her. But in the dim lights of the darkness of the club, especially while down on his knee, something was off. When he glanced he could see the pocket there. But as his fingers casually slipped through, he could feel nothing. It felt as it he was grasping at air.

That was certainly unexpected. He wanted to try for a bit longer, at first wondering if maybe he had just mistakenly seen the wallet. But no. As he mopped up the drink, waving off her insistence that everything was okay, he glanced again and saw it. It was there. But he just couldn’t touch it? Even as his invisible hand moved closer to it, his finger grazing where the edge of the wallet should be, there was nothing. Just empty air as it finger passed through it.

What in the world?

It was confusing. This should have been an easy mark but for some reason he couldn’t lift the wallet from her. Before he lingered too long, he retracted his hand, making it visible again just out of her line of sight as he straightened up and crumpled the soiled napkins that were now soaked through with the drink.

He handed them off to the bartender who seemingly tried to not be offended by the woman’s words. She wasn’t going to stay, at least not for very much longer as this place wasn’t her type of joint.

He smirked and pulled a few bills from his own wallet and set them on the counter. A small price for the watch he had been able to get. ”I may seem like that type of scoundrel, but I wasn’t going to leave you with the bill.” He slid the bills over to the bartender and gave him a grin.

The bartender blushed and slipped away.

With that, Charles turned back to the blonde and smirked. ”You know, if you really don’t want to stay here, I get it. I...happen to know some of the better clubs around the city,” he flashed her his winning smile. ”Who knows, maybe I’ll have a chance at a different one?”

It was a joke, though he did mean it in more ways than one. He still wondered about that wallet and he wasn’t quite willing to give up that prize just yet. Maybe if they continued on together he could discover that secret. He was a fast learner, after all.

Well... apparently he was a decently observant one. Her cheeks darkened slightly due to him catching onto what she had been thinking, but she waved it off quickly. There was no use trying to deny it, since that would just make it all the more obvious. She simply grinned innocently in response.

"Hey, if you know any places better than this i'm down for it. I only ended up here because the reviews were pretty good."

She tossed back her drink like a veteran alcoholic, because she was one, and set the empty glass back on the counter with a content sigh. Maybe the night was heading in a good direction now?

"I'm Juniper, by the way. I gathered your name already, and as funny as it would have been to have you calling me Ms. Illinois all night I figured it'd be kind to return the favor."

She gave him another once over while she waited to hear his grand idea for the next bar. He was attractive and built well, and tall.. but not too tall. The last few guys had given her neck aches from having to crane her head back in order to see them. At least this one was a few inches shy of being a sky scraper.

"Know of any places where there is more space to move around in? Or like.... where people aren't trying to merge together on a molecular level?"

Charles didn’t read a lot of books. If he had, he may have made some vague connection between himself and this girl with the pocket full of cash to Captain Ahab and the white whale in “Moby Dick”. He could have separated away from her, wandered off and gone after a multitude of other targets. But no, he wanted her cash. He wanted that money. He wanted to steal from her. He already had her watch and spending more time around her could make its disappearance more and more likely to be noticed.

But he was arrogant. He felt like he could get away with it. It was a challenge at this point and Charles didn’t walk away from challenges. So while he had his opportunity, he didn’t budge. Rather he gave her an invitation: if she were bored, then they could go somewhere else. He knew a number of places in New York, surely one of them would be preferable to this place.

And, if not, well, he had more chances to get her alone and separate her from her money. It was as simple as that.

She agreed. They could go elsewhere if it was better than here. Casually he waved his hand off at the idea of reviews. ”Yeah, never trust the reviews. A good number of those are paid for. I wrote a couple for $50 once.” He looked up to the bartender who seemed to be fuming. Charles merely shrugged at him. ”Tell me I’m wrong.”

He did not.

Shaking his head, chuckling, he turned to head out of the bar, the young woman following behind him. Juniper, as she introduced herself, followed, feeling it appropriate since she now knew his name. She had a nice name. Original. He hadn’t met a Juniper before and wondered if they were all nihilist chicks like her. But he didn’t ask. No he had to be more charming yet not in his usual way. If he wanted her money, he definitely needed to be more subtle.

”Well, nice to have to name to go with the face, Illinois,” he smirked devilishly. He then marched off towards the door, pulling out his phone to order a rideshare for the night. ”And let’s face it, it’s hard to find a place where molecular combination is not on the menu. But, I think I know a place where it’s at least more subtle.” With a grinned he turned back around and held up his phone, showing their ride had been ordered. ”Puck M. is on his way.”

Her smile widened a bit in a predatory fashion. Illinois, huh? She'd add that as the newest nickname to the pile of ones she didn't mind terribly.

"I mean, I don't generally mind bumping uglies, I just don't tend to want to walk into a room and have eighteen people flock to me like seagulls on a plate of french fries." It made her skin itch having that many people breathing down her neck in hopes for a partner for the night. At least she tried to be more selective about who she ended up choosing most of the time. She didn't just flail around at everyone until someone caved.

Heck, even Charles had been on a better game than the others. He'd unfortunately stepped in a bit too late while her nerves were already frazzled.

Of course, being alone and outside with him was a step in the right direction. She felt like she could actually breath out there, and he was certainly attractive enough to snag her attention the second time around.

He angled his phone around to face her and she snorted at the picture. Whoever Puck M. was had the fluffiest, sassiest giant pug face she had ever seen. She'd never been driven around by a dog headed mutant before.

"I'll have to trust you on it." She winked at him, rocking on her feet slightly while lifting a wrist to check the time.

Only, her watch was gone.

She paused for a moment, blinking at the empty space on her wrist, before clicking her tongue against her teeth. "Dang. I liked that one a little too. Oh well." And the her hand went back into the pocket of her hoodie and she seemed right as rain. Like she hadn't just lost a $900 watch somewhere.