An Atypical night on the town (CLOSED)

[VolgSKG]

Asher wanst one for much sleep, not these days anyway. He actually didn't require the same amount of rest as 'normal' people anymore. Which gave him a chance to do various other things with the remainder of his newly found free time, in this instance, stalk the streets of  Happy Harbor into the wee hours of the morning.

Asher had no real objective tonight, just clearing his own thoughts from the events of the day. He had met some interesting people, and chances were, he would meet more if he decided to stay involved with his new found friends, at least before he decided to move on as he had always done.

The cigarette in his mouth lit his way, his hands in his pockets as he took a leisurely stroll through the empty streets of Happy Harbor. The cool night air might chill some, but it was hardly noticed by Asher, his attentions, while focused on his own thoughts, were at best scattered between the sights and sounds of a city that seemingly transformed over night.

During the day, Happy Harbor had its own veneer of a quiet town, at night, things changed. Gang activity was more prevalent, crimes would be committed, and those that chanced being out invited unwelcome company. Asher knew this was a possibility, but nothing truly worried him in that regard. He had seen the evil within people before, and came away changed. What else could it do now?

The Red haired youth stopped at an intersection, taking his cigarette and tapping it against the top of an ashtray conveniently placed atop a trashcan near the light. The glow illuminated him in a dull yellow pallor, his size now fully revealed in the lone light of the street. He wore a green hoodie with dark blue jeans.

Lingering a moment, Asher checked for cars before crossing the street and continuing his midnight stroll.

[Morgan Landry]

The night breeze was cold and salty, like a faint sting on Chiara's skin. She pulled the hems of her black jacket closer over her neck and waited, her back against the cold beton wall. A siren wailed somewhere, wheels rattled in a nearby street -- probably the cart of a hobo.
Chiara crossed her arms over her chest and clicked her nails against the fabric of her jacket, looking from left to right. She was dressed in olive cargo pants, combat boots, red shirt and the jacket, whose sleeves she had pushed up to her elbows. Fingerless black gloves and an equally black bandanna identified her as a member of one of the several turf gangs roaming the city, making streets unsafe with their guns and breaking into houses for the thrill of crimes. It did give a sense of power, Chiara had to agree. She herself was carrying two guns and a knife -- not that she needed much more anyway.

Finally footsteps could be heard and she turned her head to the left, seeing a couple of kids coming her way. She counted four. Pushing her hand into the side pocket of her jacket, she kept her eyes on them, recognizing three. Handshakes were exchanged with a bit of established chitchat while small plastic bags and banknotes discretely made their way from pocket to pocket. Finally the kids broke away and everyone went their separate ways; Chiara dug her hands into her pockets and left the street, kicking an empty glass bottle out of her way. Cursing and shouting came form a nearby club as two bouncers kicked a guy out. Some dude with a cigarette crossed the street. Which reminded her, she was herself in need of a cigarette.

Stop right there, you know you should not, she thought. It wasn't about her condition, it wasn't even about her health; it was about a family member. Her fingers stopped over the place in her jacket where she kept her cigs and her lighter, she lingered, then dropped her hand. Later.

[VolgSKG]

Conscious control over his own powers was something Asher was fairly capable of, however, making sure his eyes didnt wander was something he hadnt accomplished yet. It took little more than an errant thought to trigger some of his gifts, such as the x-ray vision that showcased a minimum of five armed men and women on the current street he wandered. Four were dealing some sort of drugs, while the nearest one seemed to be disinterested in the goings on. The ability could be activated with just a thought, and thinking something was awry was simply enough to trigger his vision change this day.

A grin appeared momentarily, disappearing as fast as it had occurred. It was a handy power to have, even if he didn't like using them.

He stopped next to the woman closets to him. She was armed with two guns and a knife, and was reaching for her own pack of cigs in her pocket, though she hesitated after a moment.

Exhaling, Asher knocked the glowing embers from his own cigarette with a quick motion from his knuckles. In truth, he was evaluating his options, this part of town was a bit more crowded than he had anticipated, and he didn't want any trouble.

"Need one?" Asher asked, assessing the red clad girl in front of him, she was about a good foot shorter than him, freckled, seemed to be fairly athletic from what he could tell through her clothing, and perhaps even a gang member by the show of her colors. Turning around probably wasn't an option now, and neither did he want to make himself a target by running away from anyone on this particular street.

"Might as well try to be friendly." Asher thought, if something happened it wouldn't be because he wasn't polite.

[Morgan Landry]

Chiara looked up at the guy; he was tall and young, about her age, with vivid red hair and dark eyes. He seemed rather friendly but "friendly" was off her list.

"Piss off, I got my own," she told him, crossing the street. She didn't need more temptation tonight, all she needed were a pizza, a movie and her bed.

OOC: Sorry short, I'm on mobile.

[VolgSKG]

The girl walked off away from him, both short on words and from the looks of things, manners.

Sighing, Asher wandered over to a nearby bench, located at the corner of a building and the intersection he had just crossed. Taking another deep breath, while watching the last bit of his cigarette disappear with it. Exhaling, and watching the cloud of smoke disperse after a few long moments. He picked the butt out of his mouth and flicked it into the gutter, a few sparks flying, as it hit the pavement.

He needed to quit, smoking didnt do much for him anyway, not anymore. Asher did it more out of habit than anything. He had about half a semi-old pack left, and perhaps it may be his last.

The situation on the street hadn't changed much, the group was still lingering after buisness had concluded, the bouncer from the club was peeking out at a man that had collapsed next to the garbage near the exit. He was still on alert, but seeing as a bit of time had passed, he figured he wouldn't be molested by gangs tonight.

[VolgSKG]

<CLOSED.>

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