Smoking gun in the night

"Uh..huh. Sure. And I’m the fuckin’ pope."

He looked up towards the sky with mock wonder. "Your holiness."

thestingofascorpionn-deactivate

"What can I say, I’ve been awfully deprived whilst in New York." She replied with a shrug. Keeping a low profile meant, missing out on small pleasures like pancakes - Only the finest of New York’s food vendors had been a part of her diet. Although she was willing to break that for pancakes. And loads of syrup. "That it is"

"Well, one of the many ways." She replied, finally deciding to take a seat next to him on the bench. "But I couldn’t possibly reveal all our methods, it may put us out of business, and we can’t afford that." She chuckled, miming keeping her lips sealed. "Ah, you’re smarter than you look."

"So it's a business now. I didn't know that muggers were forming into their own organization." He moved over to make sure she had room on the bench as she joined him. "So do you guys like, have ranks? Mug ten people and you go up from beginner, mug twenty and you're officially part of the club?"

He made a show of looking over his shoulders before giving her a dirty look full of feigned suspicion. "So, is this you distracting me while your lower ranking lackeys sneak up on me? This has been your plan all along since you saw me buy that shitty hot dog."

#c: thestingofascorpian

"What?"

"Nothing nothing."

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? “Hm?”

Jason couldn't help it. Despite trying to hold it in, he snicked at the man confirm his observation. "Sorry."

"…Hm."

#c: jamesbarnes #jason is a okay with that

"Don't talk much huh?" He gave the closest thing to a real smile since the conversation started. He wasn't much of a talker himself.

clint-the-avenging-hawkeye

Escaping from the crowds?

Jason had been hiding out in the empty shell of one of several building under construction that dotted the busy streets. He had needed a breather from the milling crowds of shoppers. After so long alone he still didn't deal the best with crowds and people brushing up against his shoulders.

The sound of steps caught his attention, looking up to see another man stepping into the building.

"Looks like I wasn't the only with with the idea of getting some breathing room today."

#c: clint barton

"Why?"

#c: jamesbarnes #IM BACK YAY

He shrugged. Honestly he never got it himself. The big time asshole he could understand thinking they could take on the city's resident "hero", but the two bit thugs? "Who knows. Some stupid, some desperate."

"Brooklyn. Gotham City… That’s the place with the crime rate, right?"

"Crime rate, to say it can be high is an understatement. For some reason the criminal element never gets the hint."

dick-theflyinggrayson-deactivat

He was the last person Dick had expected to see upon his arrival. Fresh off the train and new to the city Dick had intended to hunt down an apartment and maybe find something to eat…instead he found himself frozen in his tracks as he stared at the one man he had never thought he’d see again.

Jason Todd.

Sitting on a bench.

Feeding a New York Frank to the pigeons.

It was a view he could walk away from, instead approaching the strange phenomenon that was Jason Todd feeding the pigeons with a swell of emotion caught between nostalgia and befuddlement.

“Jason? What are you doing in New York?”

thestingofascorpionn-deactivate

To say he was not expecting to hear his own name in the middle of a city he had never been to before was an understatement. Jason had been watching the pigeons with all the interest a bored man could muster when he heard it. Glancing to the side he froze. Dick Grayson. Of all the people in the world he could run into, it had to be him. At least it wasn't Bruce. Shaking off the shock, Jason automatically adopted a relax pose, leaning against the scarred wood of the bench and stretching out. "Well well well, look who it is. How about you go first and tell me what you're doing here?"

#c: dickgrayson

Carmilla nodded in agreement, she didn’t eat oatmeal often but when she did it was always more sugar than oatmeal.”God it’s been too long since I’ve had maple syrup.” She commented, suddenly getting a craving for pancakes and maple syrup.

"Hmm, maybe not to your average thug but you are still an easy target to the ones that pay attention. You’re new in town, still getting your bearings, still figuring out your street vendors. You may not feel it but you are vulnerable, hence easy target." She explained, a hint of teasing to her voice. She smirked "Your back, your front, your left, your right…I’d keep your eyes peeled if I were you."

"What? Not even on waffles or pancakes?" He himself used to overload both with the stuff. Then again it was the only thing that would over power the taste of the infamous waffles of the Wayne family butler. Alfreds heart was in the right place and he was for the most part a kick ass cook, but that was one place where his cooking skills had been left wanting. "That's the only way to eat them." "I see." He gave a chuckle. "That's how the real thugs figure out who to rob blind, watch to see who buys the crappy hot dogs from the questionable vendors." He pointed to her before finishing. "And that's the real reason you're standing here talking to me, waiting for me to let my guard down then bam!"

#c: thestingofascorpian

"It’s whatever. So where you from?"

"Gotham, it's a bit of a shit pit. S'why I made my way to New York. What about you buddy?"

"Drop it, pal."

#c: jamesbarnes #jason tries to be nice sometimes #not always the best at it though

"Okay okay whatever. Never knew someone could get touchy over a quarter." He sighed, his first day in New York and he was already stepping on people toes. Was he just going to be the asshole everywhere he went? "...sorry." He knew it sounded lame, but he thought he should say it.

"This comin’ from you."

#c: jamesbarnes #but this is nice #back to the fun junk

"Touche. But seriously, twenty-five cents?"

Part of a smirk touched her lips as she shook her head slightly. She hadn’t tasted a hotdog in ages and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. The vendors were hit and miss around here, every New Yorker knew that, which was why from the get-go she figured he wasn’t from around here. If he had been he would have known where the best place to get a dog was. After a few seconds of quiet chuckling she looked over to him, raising an eyebrow as she did. Mary-Jane wasn’t usually one for serious advice but when it came to food, then it was a different story.

”Alright… Never get one from a place that isn’t crowded. If there’s not people around it, it’s probably crap. Second, if you don’t smell that grilling smell, you know the one that’s like a football tailgate, then don’t buy it. Finally, don’t just get a plain dog either, get a New Yorker because that’s just how it’s done. There you go, a little knowledge to live on.”

Once she finished speaking she looked to him with a smile on her face. She didn’t know much but she knew her food, which made her feel pretty accomplished. Her back straightened a little, as if she was more proud than before, which was not far from the truth.

He laughed at that, raising his hand in surrender as he shook his head listening to her lay down the rules of New York dogs. "Well now, sounds like you know your hot dog carts, or at least the ins and outs of grabbing a quick bite to eat in New York City." He bent slightly, giving a mock of a bow before continuing. "I should be honored that you deigned to impart your knowledge of grilled meats on an ignorant fool such as myself."

All in all, it actually was good advice and made sense when he thought about it. The streets were crowded with people who walked up and down them every day, it would only make sense that they would know where it was worth stopping or where to avoid. He watch for crowds next time, maybe wait to see how many people visit a cart in a span of five minutes before deciding whether or not he'd risk it. All else failing he could actually go to a diner or something sensible like that.

#c: maryjane

"I think you have to be over 65 to enjoy oatmeal." She chuckled, shaking her head slightly. The image of some unsuspecting New Yorker getting to their car only to discover it covered in bird crap made her chuckle more. "Man that is a moment I would love to see."

"You would think but it’s more about an easy target than anything else, tourists just always wind up being one." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I can’t promise you, that you won’t skip the whole mugging thing but I can promise that I have no intentions of mugging you…at least not right this second."

"Over 65 or under 10 if you load enough brown sugar in the shit." He shot back, remembering the disgustingly sweet oatmeal he ate sometimes as a kid. The memory alone was almost enough to make him shudder, now he wouldn't touch the stuff if he was starving to death. "Or maple syrup." "Well not to blow my own horn, but I don't think I look like an easy target." Yeah he was skinny, but in the good way as far as he was considered. He grinned then, an almost challenging look. "Not right this second? Does that mean I should watch my back when walking alone tonight?"

#c: thestingofascorpian #gah sorry for the wait

"A hot dog used to cost twenty-five cents…" he grumbled in undertones, folding his arms. "Can’t believe this shit."

#c: jamesbarnes #sorry for the wait #killer weekend

"Wait, twenty-five cents?" Jason quirked a brow at the low cost. Nothing was that cheap in this decade, at least not in the States. "Never seen 'em that cheap. You from around here?"

"…I don’t know if that’s good or bad." That was enough for a whole fuckin’ Christmas dinner back in his day…

"What? Don't buy fast food?" He leaned back against the bench. "It depends on who you ask, but it's pretty cheap." Not that he was the best judge as he could count how many times he's bought food from a street vendor.