2514/A bad day to be a thief

A bad day to be a thief
Date of Scene:	18 July 2020
Location:	Washington Square Park
Synopsis:	Logan and Siobhan have a nice talk after a thief is shown the boot.
Cast of Characters:	Siobhan Smythe, Logan Howlett

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Siobhan Smythe has posed:
It was late. Not so late to be crazy to be out but it is getting close. Siobhan had finished up a gig and was quite happy about that very fact. She had picked the park to walk through in order to make her way back home. She holds her guitar over her shoulder in its case. She was actually quite pleased with life at the moment. Even if things are getting weirder. However, all that good was about to be ruined by a shadowy figure standing just behind a cosp of trees near the part of the park she was walking through.

Keith had done this many times before. He wasn't trying to really kill or hurt anyone badly. He just needed money. As Siobhan passes by, he rushes out and does what he's done several times before. One hand grabs for the guitar strap, pulling at it even as he turns and slams his fist right for the side of Siobhan's head. Shock and awe.

Easily she releases the strap and stumbles to the side even as he holds on to it and runs. His plan usually works fine. The person he steals from is left disoriented long enough that he is gone and they are more worried about themselves than their stuff.

However, he miscalculated.

As soon as he is running, those with heightened senses will feel the pressure in the air change and a flare of energy that comes with magic. Then there's the smell. To a normal human nose it'd be missed. To a sensitive nose? Death. Not something dying or dead. No. Not that. Death. Capital D. And even as the man is booking it, Siobhan's looking up, grabbing for that strap and shaking before her eyes begin to glow with the light of another world. A world after. And hten she lets out an ear piercing scream. No power behind it. Not yet. But her natural voice is powerful and it can be heard across the park.

For some strange reason, Keith feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Logan Howlett has posed:
As a random pedestrian, Logan strikes others as short and maybe a bit rough looking. He's wearing a pair of tattered blue jeans, hiking boots, and a white t-shirt. The ensemble is topped off with an outback hat, which only partially conceals his unique hairstyle. The Canadian reaches into a brown paper back and throws a handful of crumbs to a pack of nearby pigeons.

After offering the feast, he leans over and rests his forearms on his denim-clad jeans. "Eat up, fellas. Never know where the next free meal is comin' from."

The scream combs and disrupts the brief moment avian respite. Logan's eyes narrow. He sniffs, offers a patently angry runt growl then slowly rises from his bench. Coiling like a predator, he bursts into a run in the direction of the scream, wincing as the sound assaults his sensitive hearing.

The instincts of a predator lock momentarily on the running man, and suddenly Keith is between a rock and a hard place. Logan looks scary. Siobhan sounds scary.

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
Soon after the scream, Siobhan is off running after Keith only to come to a halt when she spots Logan getting in his path. She comes to a skidding halt, that glow leaving her eyes in surprise at seeing him there and then she looks at Keith.

For his part, Keith comes to a skidding halt at the sight of Logan and nearly falls on his butt. Normally a 5'3" roadblock wouldn't really stop a person but Logan looks like, well, he looks like the kind of person who gets into bar brawls for practice and fun.

Looking back to the approaching Siobhan and then at Logan and Keith does what he believes to be the smart thing. Cut and run. He turns and quickly throws the guitar at Siobhan and then runs in her direction. She could be scary but she seems less phyiscaly imposing so he throws and runs.

Siobhan lets out another surprised sound and flails to grab her guitar, falling on her butt as she catches it and hugs it to herself even as Keith tries to escape.

Logan Howlett has posed:
What has occurred become obvious to Logan as he sees the frightened response and the abrupt toss of the guitar back to Siobhan. Keith may be cutting and running, but he doesn't have speed anywhere on the Canadian's level.

Logan darts, leaps, lands just behind his prey, and front kicks him solidly in the rear. The force is enough to give the thief a few feet of air before he goes tumbling, mostly from his own momentum. There's a low growl and fiercely delivered, "Get a real job, punk. Better ways of gettin' a livin' then stealin' guitars in the park."

He doesn't bother waiting for Keith to acknowledge him or recover frim the literal 'ass whoppin'. He turns and begins to stalk toward Siobhan. "You okay there miss? That was one hell of a scream."

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
Keith thinks for a moment he has gotten away and then he hears sound getting closer and looks back in time to almost get out a full curse only getting out, "Oh fu-ACK!" before he is sent up into the air and flails, lands on his shoulder, rolls into a bench and smacks his nose right into it. He flops back from the strike and blood leaks out his nose as he falls back. He hears what Logan says, sorta but he also hears what the nice birds say and they are saying 'You done F***ed up son!'

Siobhan, after the intial shock, quickly lays out the guitar and starts opening it up, staring at it as she does, looking it over. It's a nice one. Old but well taken care of. She continues to investigate before she lets out a breath and looks up, "Oh, tank ya for dat." Her heavy Irish accent flowing through naturally as she nods to Logan, "And...yeah, I'm..." She pauses, "A singer." She gestures to the guitar, "Got strong lungs." She nods again.

Strangely, that smell still lingers in the air around Siobhan. Death and fear. She is busy zipping up the case though and looks up toward Logan, "Ya really saved me dere." She looks back at the poor man on the ground and smirks before she spits at him and gives him the ol' backwards peace symbol, "Serves ya right, ya damned tief!"

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan rolls his shoulders into a broad shrug. Despite his act of heroism, the intimidating demeanor isn't entirely gone. There's something just a touch feral about this one. Heavily muscled and evidently when a good front kick, he's rare for good first impressions. However, his half-grin offers some warmth. He nods, "Don't mention it. Punks like that really piss me off, and someone needed to get a few licks for ruin' my peaceful sit in the park."

His eyes narrow, his nostrils flaring as he takes in the scent of death and fear. He steps closer to her and then kneels until he's resting on his heels. He sniffs again. "Eh, then again.. maybe I saved him. You've got somethin' special about you, don'tcha kid? Somethin' that..." He gazes over his shoulder at the laid out Keith. "Might not have gone well for him, I'm guessin."

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A blink as Logan comes in closer and she grabs up her guitar case. She stares at him as he starts sniffing and she scoots back a bit. She eyes him carefully even as she pushes up to her feet and shifts her feet as she puts her guitar over her shoulder, "And just what do ya mean by dat?" She asks even as she watches how he is acting and she adjusts the strap, "I'm a singer." She nods her head, "And good with languages." She nods her head.

She looks over at the guy on the ground and then around the area before stepping back a few steps away from Logan, "Who are you?" She quickly changes the subject.

Logan Howlett has posed:
He answers her questions in reverse, "Logan.. and well, I've got a really good nose for trouble."

He taps the side of his nose then shrugs again. "Eh, I've probably already said enough to make ya uncomfortable. Most people these days rather not have their... um... differences pointed out."

He rises to his feet as she stands, offering his not so intimidating 5 feet and a handful of inches of height in comparison. "What's your name?"

He fishes around in his jean pocket and produces a stogie. He tucks it in the corner of his mouth and produces a lighter from the opposite pocket. He's just about to light up when his eyebrows raise. He looks at his surroundings, frowns at the sight of children and other pedestrians then puts his lighter away. The cigar wiggles around between his lips as he considers his prospects, then slowly, its plucked from his mouth and slipped back into his pocket.

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
"Siobhan." Pronounced Shih-von. She offers it back easily enough and looks at his nose for a moment before taking in the rest of him. She takes another step back and shifts the guitar on to her shoulder and then she looks down a moment, "De guitar was given to me by me mahther." She nods her head as she looks to the side, "My whole family is gone now. I ain't got much of dem left." She looks back at him and nods her haed even as she smiles slightly, "Other dan what me father gave me." She nods her head. She looks to the kdis nearby before looking forward and taking a step, "Sorry. I don't talk much about what makes me different because what makes me different is..." She looks to Logan, "Horrible."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan frowns gently then gazes over his shoulder toward Keith. Another low growl rumbles in his chest. He calls out in anger, "Did ya here that, you bum? Ever occur to'ya that you might take something special from someone?"

He raises a fist and a set of terrifying metal claws launch from the back of his hand. "Ten seconds to get out of my sight!"

There's a gasp from a nearby pedestrian, a mother clutching her kid. Logan draws the claws back and waves his hands toward them, palms up. "Just scarin' off a punk, ma'am. Don't mean anything by it."

A sigh escapes his lips, he reaches up and scratches at one of his sideburns as he looks Siobhan up and down. "Eh, believe it or not. I know how that feels, Siobhan."

His voice is full gravel and sympathy. "And I know what its like to lose somethin' precious. Take care of that guitar. Connections to the past.. even if they are painful... Well, there are somethin' worth protectin'. But, I think you know about that."

He grunts and slips his hands into his pockets, giving Siobhan another eyeball. "You.. uh.. need someone to talk to about who really understands horrible? I doubt you hold a candle to me, and I live with it.. I.. manage it. Hell, I even do good with it."

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A blink at those claws And Siobhan whistles, "Wow." She states and while she is doing that. Keith ccughs and rolls and starts scrambling away, blood dripping down his nose as he turned to rush away. He stumbles a few times, falling into bushes and then just pushing through them while shaking his head. He won't be stealing again. At least not here anyway.

A smirk as she watches him, Siobhan shakes her head a little before looking back to Logan, "Ya do that often?" She asks and then chuckles before she adjusts the guitar, "And yeah, I know." She states simply before looking up and then over at him, "Ya know horrible, huh?" She asks and then she shakes her haed, "Not sure how I feel about dat or if ya know what I have but...sure. Want to go grab a coffee or somethin'?"

Logan Howlett has posed:
He huffs a laugh and then nods to her, "Some friends would say I do that too often. But, when you've got a rage inside of you've got to channel it somewhere. You have to control it, or... it will control you."

He nods gravely, mind already trying to drift back to every regret he has regarding his instinctual anger. He shakes his head and nods again, this time in the affirmative. "Sure, let's have a chat. Been awhile since I've talked with someone from the Emerald Isle. Though its usually over whiskey instead of coffee."

He turns and starts walking off in a direction that likely leads to a coffee shop. "I'm buyin'. Sounds like you could use some good fortune, even if its free bean water."

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
"Sure, I appreciate it. And I'd drink whiskey wit' ya if this country didn't have backwards laws." She states and Siobhan shrugs before she walks with him to the coffee place, "As for channeling?" She shakes her head, "I'd rather not channel it anywhere." She states, "Not really." She then walks into the coffee shop he chose. THe little place not being all that busy or exciting but it does the job. She looks around it carefully, walking with him to pick out coffee before picking out a table and setting down her guitar. She makes sure it is behind her chair, strap over the chair like she usually does.

She looks to Logan when he joins her and states, "I don't know what kind of anger ye got but what I got, it isn't anger." She shakes her head.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan eyes her over his shoulder, "I ain't a yank. I'm a canuck, thank you very much." He offers in response to the crack about backwards drinking laws.

Once inside, he'll order a couple of house coffees then head over to Siobhan's table. He'll set a mug in front of her along with the sugar and creamer he pilfered from the communal station where everyone doctors their coffee.

Logan passes on the dairy and sugar himself though preferring to sip the hot brew black. "You said horrible... Anger is.. most of what my horrible is about. What are you dealin' with kid?"

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A chuckle and she nods, "Got ya." She grins a little as she starts to put creamer and sugar into her cup. She shifts in her seat and states, "I came 'ere to be a singer." She looks at him, "And get away." She nods her head and looks at her coffee, "I figured if I put enough distance between me and me past, I'd be fine." She sips the coffee, "But I knew I was wrong." She looks up at him, "Sorry that doesn't answer your question but I wanted to put dat dere first."

She shifts uncomfortably and hmms, "Ya said you'd talked with someone from Ireland before?" She looks at him< "Ye ever 'eard the legend of the Banshee?"

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan sips from his mug a little more than nods in her direction. A free hand drums upon the glossy surface of the table. "Hard lesson... learnin' you can't really run from your past. You can get ahead of it sometimes, but it always catches up."

He shrugs at her apology then answers, "Actually knew a guy who went by the moniker, Banshee. He was Irish. Also a hell of a singer. Looked up the legend at one point, so I am a bit familiar. "

His head leans to the side, "Hmm.. good pipes and a scent of... death. Well, that puts two and two together."

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A nod to him and tehn she tilts her head, "Went by it, eh?" She nods her head, "Well, this isn't somethin' I go by." She shakes her head and smirks, "And I don't mean a banshee either." She nods her had, "Pretty sure mine is Banshee. Big B." She nods her head and then looks down at her coffee with a shrug and nods to him, "She's pretty...terrifying."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan grunts and sips his coffee. "Right, think I'm.. gettin' it. You've got somethin' inside of you. Something terrifying. I've got something inside me too.. but I guess its different. Mine isn't else, it's just a part of me that shouldn't get out."

He leans back in his chair and sighs, "But I bet there are parallels. You mentioned somethin' about channeling it. That means you control it.. and I'd bet if that control was perfect, then you wouldn't be bothered by it."

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A smirk at him and then she shrugs and nods, "Sorta. It's like..." She looks to the side and looks back at him a moment before she looks down, "Ever ride a horse? A wild one? I have rode a horse before but never a wild one. I imagine what it is like." She nods her head, "And I'd imagine it is somethin' like this. Only difference is, if I get thrown off...it might mean that the horse starts murderi' people." She nods her head, "I don't really like talkin' about it. Like I had said." She sighs and shakes her head, "So, I just kinda keep it bottled up and do my ting." She laughs a little, "Tryin' to just live a life, ya know?"

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Yup. Parallels alright. I know -exactly- what that's like, Siobhan. When I lose control, people die... Have died." He points a finger out from around his mug at her. "The first step though... is knowin' you need to control it. That means you are doin' good."

He drains his coffee cup, "Some days, it'll feel like people are dragin' you off that horse. Even if you warn'em they won't like what happens if they do. You've got a rough lot... but you know, the horse is a good metaphor. Even if you do get knocked off it and something bad happens, you've got to get back on. Every time. In the end, you get better at not falling off."

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A look at him and then she looks down, "Well, for now, that was the first real incident since I came to America." She nods her head, "I have gotten real good at keeping it bottled." She shifts some and shakes her head, "My worry is...not that I'm having trouble bottling it. That the pressure is building." She looks up at him as she sips her coffee and then slowly brings it down, "And eventually it's gonna burst." She shakes her head and then sighs.

"Other times I wonder if I'm leaving people to die all so I am not the one that kills dem." She shrugs and takes another sip of coffee.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Seems like you've got a tough life ahead full of tough choices, Sioban. Assumin' you want to keep living it, you need to 'embrace the suck'." He takes a deep breath and gazes up towards the ceiling. "You'll always be the best judge if you are gonna.. 'pop'. Listen to your instincts, and find a way to release the pressure that you can live with."

He's silent for a moment and gazes down. "You'll make mistakes either way, but you'll make bigger ones if you don't acknowledge the problem. Maybe you are different, but I bet you aren't. These things can't be ignored."

He leans forward and points a finger, "But they don't define you. What defines you is your choices, and in this case, how you choose to deal with it. Do you run and avoid it until it bursts? Or do you try t'save a life every now and then.. accepting the risk you might fail or mess up."

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A blink at him as he speaks and shen listens. Genuinely she does but...that part of her that is all punk starts to crack up and laugh after a moment and then she sips her coffee and she shakes her haed, "And dis is the part where de music plays for the after school special." She smirks and nods her had, "And den I find out dat I'm really a beautiful butterfly after all." She shakes her had and sips her coffee and then looks to the side. SHe takes a breath and nods to Logan, "Appreciate it, old man." She states, "I don't know why but I'm bettin' you are a lot older dan you look." She nods her head, "Am I wrong?"

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan waggles his eyebrow a little bit, "What did I just say about trusting you instincts, kid? Seems like you've got a good set. So just take the wisdom and do somethin' with it."

He grunts a little and mutters, "And watch who you call old.. Rather it's true or not. Didn't I just say I had a temper?"

He chuckles lowly and rolls his coffee mug in his calloused hands. He gazes into it. "School special or not... I'm just sharin' my own life experience, and honestly, I've got a lot of experience helpin' people with their control. Its kind of a penance, for my uh... lack of it in the past. Rather people not walk down the dark roads I have, ya?"

Siobhan Smythe has posed:
A nod and she sighs, "Yeah, I'd rather not go down dat path, too. I've seen it." She shakes her head, "Trust me...not so pretty." She then looks over at him briefly before she smirks and slowly she downs the last of her coffee, "Honestly, not worried much about your temper. You seem like ya have it under control." She winks before she nods to him, "Anyway, thanks Logan." She nods her head, "It was a good talk. I can at least say I got it off me chest to someone."

Logan Howlett has posed:
The wise allegedly old grump will abruptly call out a phone number. "Call it, if you get into trouble or need to get more off your chest."

He rises and sets his cup on the table. He nods back to her and then starts heading toward the exit. "Good days and bad days, kid. Today's a good day. Hope you never see one of my bad ones. Stay safe out there."

With that, Logan steps back out onto the street, adjusting his hat before he disappears from view.