nostabbing | 007 | Violet City;

Being back in Violet after a successful thieving mission has left Parker...oddly restless. Sure, it was great to be back On The Job With A Team after a long dry spell of personal freelancing — albeit with A Team that surely would've driven Nate to drink even more than he usually did (which is saying something) — but working a job in the first place, and completing it, has put her in something of a Mood. Working (stealing) is something she understands. It's something she's good at. It's one of the few things in the world she could actually confidently say she likes.

The problem is, the long con has never been her game, and while professionally speaking she doesn't actually have a problem with stealing, thieves, or committing crimes in general, there's something that still puts her off about the thought that Team Rocket is the Bad Guys™. The capital letters are significant; even if you are something of a bad guy yourself in the strictest law-abiding sense, the Bad Guys™ are the ones who hurt people and deserve to be crushed into the dirt in flawless Nate Ford fashion, and helping out the Bad Guys™ in their aims — even if it's all part of a plan to situate yourself to be able to take them down in the long run — still doesn't quite sit well with her.

On the other hand, part of what they do (that is, she and her team of bad guys who are not Bad Guys™) is protecting the people who are Actually Good, and there's some of that to her promotion, too. It's always better to have the head of security's ID card than some average grunt's; just the other day, she successfully pulled rank on somebody and it got him to lay off. So this is a good thing, this promotion into the Bad Guys™'s fold. She just...doesn't...like it.

What she does like is stealing, and stealing suggests jewelry stores, and that's how she'd ended up at the little mom-and-pop jewelry store tucked away down a side street in Violet City, where her standard perusal of the modest wares was promptly derailed — the clerk, apparently whiling away a somewhat boring afternoon behind the counter, had been amusing himself with making simple bead sculptures to decorate the window display case, and Parker's ~~creepy~~ rapt fascination with his work had quickly led to the offer of a demonstration.

(Was that flirting? Maybe it was flirting. Giving her the benefit of his employee's discount on an assortment of beads and wire to take with her when she left was probably flirting. ...Maybe.)

Which left her with an armful of boxes, a head full of new information, and a slip of paper with a guy's phone number on it. Did it actually make her feel better? She's honestly not entirely sure. But hey, competently (?) navigating an everyday social interaction? She'll take her successes where she can get them.

~

[This afternoon, ~~Parker~~ "Alice" can be found at an outdoor table belonging to one of the cafes in Violet City, an iced tea condensing and forgotten on the tabletop near her as she concentrates on something that, given her level of fixation and focus, appears to be infinitely more interesting than her drink. Assembled in front of her are a set of tiny clippers, a spool of thin jewelry wire, and a few boxes of beads in bright and cheery colors; at the other end of this operation, a finished cell phone strap lies completed while a second, half-finished one takes shape beneath her careful fingers.

Every so often, she snaps a picture with her Gear, almost absently, like she's momentarily forgotten that it's set to upload those for public consumption to the Gear network when she does.

Bead art. It's serious business, apparently?]

[OOC: The reference picture used in this post was originally found here!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He redials on sheer reflex]

Come on, give me a chance!

You can't just say you're sorry like that fixes it!

[CLICK.

Apparently they may be at this for awhile. >>]

[One more try, he can't give up now]

[though he's not really expecting her to pick up. If she does, he's ready]

I did a stupid goddamn thing, okay? What do you want? A free swing at me? Fine!

Yeah, you did, and you're a jerk!

[...but at least she doesn't hang up? This time. >> ]

[Hey, it's something printable, that's a lot better than most of the things Blake's been called.]

[He makes a concentrated effort to keep himself from being an asshole. He can do this.]

Your gorilla-sized friend already clocked me one, if that makes you feel any better.

[The whole side of his head had been purple for a week.]

[...Her gorilla-sized fri— HEY.]

Don't call Ralph a gorilla!

I didn't!

[He holds his hands up.]

I just said he's the size of one. Or a bear. Maybe a truck.

[Unconsciously, he rubs the side of his face. Now he knows what somebody who had a tree fall on them would feel like.]

His name is Ralph.

[And good on Ralph for decking this jerk, frankly.]

And you better not be a jerk to him, either.

Yeah, that's what he said.

[Insistently. Some people really don't like being called Donkey Kong.]

[Blake shakes his head fervently] No way. I don't need my spine yanked out.

[Ah, now there's a mental image that gets a grin out of her.

...Creepy as that might be.]

So what do you want.

[Blake gets a sour look on his face for how happy she looks at the thought.]

[He takes a deep breath and makes it go away.]

I want to...

[his voice drops to an inaudible mutter.]

...What?

[NOT GIVING AN INCH, NOPE.]

[He snaps back] Apologize, okay?!

[His voice drops, and the edge goes out of it.] I know you don't have my girl.

So what? I know that.

[Her eyes are narrow, but there's oddly little actual anger in it; it's more suspicion than anything else.]

So what. You're sorry? That's just it?

[He bites back a Well I didn't, damn it, and fights down the urge to try to justify himself.]

Yeah, that's it.

[Blake doesn't have any idea how to do this. He has no practice in how to deal with guilt besides denying that he did anything wrong, and that's not cutting it this time.]

[He rubs the back of his neck.] Look, I've never really done this before. I don't know how it's supposed to go.

Well, I don't need your help or your sorry. If you want to be sorry, why don't you go try helping somebody who needs it instead?

[Blake knows from dirty looks, and this one is among the dirtiest he's ever gotten.]

[after a second, he admits] I am. I'm trying.

[Guess how good at it he is.]

...

[Look, the big dumb jerk stupid marks aren't supposed to be repentant and ashamed, okay? She doesn't...this is weird. He's not acting like a big dumb jerk like he's supposed to be.

Sigh.]

You're just going to stay here until I say it's okay that you're sorry, right?

[Surprisingly, there's no sarcasm or standoffishness in that; the way she says it, it actually comes off like an honest question, like she's just checking to make sure she's actually right in her assessment of the situation.]

[It's high time for Blake to be ashamed of something.]

[He shakes his head.]

Nah. You gave me the chance to say it, that's more'n you had to.

In your place I'd be pissed off too. [And hold the grudge until the end of time.]

Well, yeah.

[Nice-behaving guy or not, she is absolutely not letting him off the hook for the shouty punchy thing, nope.]

Violence is supposed to be an appropriate response. Not you just being a tool.

[His voice gets heated] I wasn't--

[He bites it off. Getting in another fight isn't what he's here for.]

[Instead, he huffs a humorless laugh under his breath.] At least you're not one of those "violence is never the answer" pricks.

Violence is definitely an answer. When somebody deserves it.

[NOT WHEN THEY ARE JUST MINDING THEIR OWN BUSINESS and also possibly stealing a little on the side.]

[Blake looks stunned that they agree on anything.]

[His eyes slip aside.]

Well...

What if you think somebody deserves it and it turns out they don't?

Then your intel is crap and you better not ever do that again.

Intel? [Weird word to use for it.] You don't look real military to me.

007 | Violet City; | Video / Action;

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