@nessusaryevil <3′d that rp ad! (wouldn’t let me tag you? Most likely gonna IM it.)
Blending in with crowds proved difficult in this world, having been filled with just about every misfit possible. This included Jack Morrison. Of course, he looked…normal on the outside - your average man, blonde hair with slight muscle. However, what was hidden was that strangeness, perhaps his superhuman abilities - ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˡᵃᶜᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᶦᵐᵐᵉⁿˢᵉˡʸ - or his overwhelming desire to overwork and never take a god damn nap. That isn’t even beginning to cover his monumental history.
He hadn’t exactly bothered to strip himself of his coat - after all, the piece of large fabric was trademark, without it, he was no longer Strike Commander Morrison.
After a previous interaction, the man knew there was a possibility of recruits stepping in by fate, and again, looking average meant that his presence might just slip under their nose.
On top of that he felt naked without like. Like he would ever admit such, though.
Engulfed in a large group of passerbys, he walks among them, heavy tapping of his boots drowned out by the various chatter and noises those around him made. Jack didn’t particularly mind, even if his social anxiety existed - much to his dismay. As long as he made no effort to speak, and thing went his way, a problem might not persist.
Which is why luck didn’t seem to stay by his side today.
A hand shuffled around in his pocket. One that wasn’t his. Of course, this struck a rapid sensation of alertness in his mind - oh it had to be him! No one else, what could he expect! Things just wouldn’t go his way, would they?
Hands jump to clasp down on where the intruder’s limb had been sneaking as his steps come to an immediate stop, head darting into a direction so fast, that if he were quicker he might just snap his neck. However, his reflexes proved to fail on him, unable to apprehend the stranger as they slink away into the crowd. A hand pats his coat pocket.
His wallet! Oh, there wasn’t much in there at the moment but- god dammit, he just bought that thing!
Jack escapes the crowd he was seemingly trapped in, jumping off the sidewalk as blue orbs tracked a hooded figure. Cars pass by the tar road, but he doesn’t care too much, not bothering to mention even a sorry to the cars he practically jumps over. There were more important matters at hand, like getting his only means of currency back.
The soldier steps onto the sidewalk he’d been opposite of merely minutes ago. A gloved hand is cupped to the side of his mouth, and he quickly yells out - “Hey! Get the hell back here! Didn’t even ask if you could have it!”
Nessus had never been a thief for petty reasons. Theivery had come to him as had breathing, eating, and drinking. It was necessary for him to survive in Correllan, and it was necessary for him to survive in Spirale. It wasn’t like he had any other skills anyway.
Today was no different. He’d accidentally spent literally all of his money on some raw fish with Blake, and he knew that if he was going to survive for however long he was going to be here, he’d have to make more money.
And there was only one way to do that.
Pickpocketing was easy, once you got the hang of it. You just had to slip into a crowd, make yourself as unnoticeable as possible--which was very difficult when everyone seemed to find cat ears and a tail odd--slide your hand into someone’s pocket when they were distracted, and you were done.
Sometimes there were issues. Sometimes a mark realized what you were doing. Sometimes that happened during the pickpocketing, which was always awkward.
Sometimes that happened after, which is why Nessus could run so quickly now.
It had taken about 15 seconds from when he grabbed the wallet for his mark to notice that he had been riffling around in his pocket. Plenty of time to make an escape.
Oh, he hears the commotion--he hears the man’s footsteps and he hears the man shouting at him. Everything in his head is telling him not to say anything, to just keep going with his ill-gotten gains, but...
“Maybe you should keep a closer eye on your stuff if you don’t want someone to take it off your hands!” he says, immediately kicking himself for it. Now he had to move even faster.
