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Hunting Season || Open

"Okay, but there'a cubone across the street. An'down the block is a PokeSpot wit'a lure on it. So I'm gonna go get me some Pokemon."

#{ sh.starter }#open #Pokemon go

Kinda Like a Legit Cat Burglar || Open

It was easier than he thought. He guessed that's why he had the big coat. These toy sizes so easily fit in his inside pockets. They didn't even bark. He walked out with ease. Now outside, he pulled the chihuahua puppy out of his pocket. He scratched behind the dog's ears and tummy. He had looked so malnourished in that stupid pet shop. He wondered about how he would act with the cats and frowned. They might not get along. "Hey, wanna puppy?"

#{ sh.starter }#{ c:open }

"C'mon! Try ya'luck! The worse that can happen is ya lose~!"

#{ sh.starter }#{ c:open }

Child's Play || Kid Loki && Scout

Loki swung his feet, watching the children play. There was something calming about this form. It was small and lithe and full of energy. It was only an illusion - another shapeshifted - but Loki always lived the part. He stood out, that he knew. He crossed his ankles and swung them beneath him. His boots went to his knees, his coat was a green and gold splendor meeting in the middle to showcase the horns on his chest. He flipped the hood up and brought it down just so it was above his eyes. He felt someone sit next to him, face scrunching up. "What?" { @mulliganiisms }

#{ sh.starter }#{ c:scout }

〜☆

"You managed to make this breakfast sandwich to excellence."

#{ sh.starter }#someone bug Loki from his breakfast

Playing God || Remy&&Loki

Remy stretched out his legs. His little party drained the funds of his last victim and he needed a refill. He relaxed against the cafe table, sipping a delicious hot chocolate, scoping out the next poor schmuck. Suits and watches and walking dogs that cost more than rent in Brooklyn; some people loved to flash their money. But they were too easy. The businessman talking on an eight hundred dollar cellphone was child's play. The woman in Vera Wang with the open Michael Khors bag was too. No, Remy needed a challenge that required more than circumstance. Oh look at Posh Spice walking. Remy was making a mental bet that this one even had the accent to go with it. English or at least Rockaway. So he moved slowly. New York City was perfect for pick pockets. So crowded, everyone is shoving. Rude tourists acting as if stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to take a photo of an advertisement is a totally acceptable thing. It was perfect. The actual action of picking someone's wallet is quiet boring. It requires strong, nimble fingers and quick reflexes. So it was Remy's surprised when he found no wallet on tall, dark, and cheekbones. { @the-fire-that-burns }

#{ sh.starter }#thefirethatburns #closed

It's In the Cards || Open

One. Two. Three. Two of cups, four of swords. The fool. Remy watched them crumble up in flames. He flung another card against the ground. He needed a break. He needed like two pots of coffee and half a pack of cigarettes. At least he had a steady break to look forward to. The smaller sects could handle the next few jobs. Maybe that's why he called Ari up. Sure, he'd be the first to admit he had a soft spot for the shapeshifter. He wanted to spend some time with her, plus maybe have her infiltrate the school. Be his inside eye. He chuckled to himself, kicking his heels against the brick wall he was sitting on. But then he heard footsteps. "Hello? Wanna seat? The view is pretty good up here."

#{ sh.starter }#open

Stretch Your Legs to Coffin Length || Open

Ah. The good old 2016. The 70lies was a trip Ashton Kutcher couldn't even prepare him for. But now he was back home in the proper timeline where Wi-Fi, Game of Thrones, and Harry Potter existed. Of course many of the people still acted as if they were in the 70ies. Case in point, the guy in front of him at Starbucks looked exactly like Sonny Bono. He texted just that to one of his thieves - he knew she'd get a kick out of it. He sleep knew she missed him. But he was still in New York City still and she was back home in New Orleans. He wasn't done here yet. There was a job to be done. Remy scratched his chin as he drank his butterbeer - Starbucks secret menu for the win - and left the building. He scrolled through his phone for directions, not looking up. He needed to stretch his legs for a bit.

#{ sh.starter }#excuse the emo band title #c:

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