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Challengers. Thousands.
Winners. Few.

Danger. Hell yes.


-- The Wild Card --


Matt tucked his hands into his pockets and tilted forward slightly. He pursed his lips and thought for a long few seconds. His brain sorted through thirty different locations to take the red-head to. He sifted through his usual places, instantly crossing them off the list. Not a place to take a girl. Five places seemed okay, but they were a ways away. Two places... Hmm... Then he motioned in the direction of the park; motioned again to the right; motioned forward; and then motioned to the left. "S'a good place with tasty food that won't eat your wallet," he said, still mentally scanning the route ahead. "Light fare, medium fare, heavy fare. Food fare. Coffee, tea, milk, vodka. Good stuff." He looked at Sylvia with a faint spark in his bronze eyes. "Know it?"

Devoted Friend

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                                  Schoolgirl, just one of a million.
                                  Runner, freer than the birds of the sky.
                                  Spy. Getting there, anyway.

                                  Sylvia LaCroix


                                  "Vodka?" Sylvia echoed, sounding as if she thought the idea of having drinks was ludicrous, and she raised an eyebrow at Matt as she voiced it. "Wow, I never thought I'd see a guy taking me for legal." She chuckled, shaking her head a bit before giving a somewhat helpless shrug. "I'm seventeen, dude. Bit on the early side to go drinking. If it isn't one of those places where you've got to have ID just to get in, then sure; it sounds like a good time."

                                  Even with the feeling that she had just been called old by a measure or two, Sylvia shrugged again and gestured for Matt to take the lead. "Lead the way then, skipper." She offered cheerily.
The bronze eyes looked at the red-head with an unreadable expression. "Most restaurants offer drinks nowadays. S'not like you've got to buy any. Besides, if the place needed an ID, I wouldn't be gettin' in either." He tilted his head side to side to crack the vertebrae. Then he crouched on the ground. "I kind've wanna fly, too. If you're coming... Come."

The last word was barely out of his mouth before he was off, blurring down the street, easily clearing any objects in his path. His hood had been thrown back and his dark hair danced madly behind him. Seeing the red-head move so fast made him want to move faster. His sharp eyes scanned his trajectory; his muscles fired rapidly, body reacting instantaneously to his signals and even to his unconscious guarding of his still partially-injured rib. He was hungry, but there was an uncontrollable feeling of exhilaration as the world flashed indiscernibly past him. He was so caught up in his speed that he almost zipped by the eatery he had wanted to stop at. He managed to skid to a halt and then turned, finally remembering to check if the fireball had followed him or not.
The Eternal Chronicler
Erm... Are you coming back?

Devoted Friend

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                                  Schoolgirl, just one of a million.
                                  Runner, freer than the birds of the sky.
                                  Spy. Getting there, anyway.

                                  Sylvia LaCroix


                                  It took only a moment for Sylvia to realize what happened before Matt was already off and well ahead of her. Not the wisest course of action, she figured, but if she was ever going to learn an impromptu pattern along the way, she might as well learn it now. Though the route analysis left her lacking in her usual speed, she still managed not to leave herself too far behind, and even the cars that if given the smallest fraction of a second more would have reduced her to a pancake on the street were left to their own devices as the redhead countered her own momentum to vault and twist over them seamlessly.

                                  There was, simply speaking, no slowing her down as she kept her eyes on Matt and his immediate surroundings, simply waiting - for what definitions of "waiting" included bolting along at breakneck speed - for him to reach his destination before skidding to a halt just short of impact.


                                  Orbital Original Cannon
                                  I'm sorry! x.x I've been caught up in a lot lately and I forgot to check my subs.. Thank you for bumping me v.v;
Matt's eyes widened slightly as the red-head nearly collided with him again. He smiled crookedly and motioned to the place they were standing in front of. "Here we are. Express to Food Express. Pretty good, huh? Wanna sit outside or inside? There's a cool place inside that has like… Multi-lighted things. Or we could sit outside with the…" He looked around and waved to the traffic. "Carbon monoxide and stuffs." He rubbed his side where it was starting to ache. Shouldn't have run so fast… he thought to himself.

Devoted Friend

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                                  Schoolgirl, just one of a million.
                                  Runner, freer than the birds of the sky.
                                  Spy. Getting there, anyway.

                                  Sylvia LaCroix


                                  "Multi-lighted things?" Sylvia echoed with a raised eyebrow, half-wondering just what that could entail and half chuckling at the use of exactly those words. "Well, I was going to say I'd prefer out here with the sun and the fresh air, but I can tell you're not a fan of the idea, so inside it is." She shrugged, walking up to the door and pulling it open before pivoting on a heel to slip around it and inside.
Matt followed her in and waved to the host to let him know they were there.

The host came over quickly and seated them near the back with the beautiful arrangement of different-colored mini-lights that changed to a different image every few minutes. The host told them what the specials were, what drinks were available, and gave them their menus in the most languishingly bored manner before vanishing back up to the front.

The bronze-eyed youth scanned the menu just as lazily, looking for something appealing, but his rib was aching and distracted him. So he decided on a salad and a soda; that was the easiest thing to eat. He looked up at Sylvia. "See anything interesting? They've got some pretty good food here." His sharp eyes spotted a pair of narrow orbs glaring at him from somewhere on the other side of the small restaurant. Glory, there's an ugly one for you he thought to himself. I hope he stays on his side of the - nope, here he comes.

"Fancy seein' you in here, boy," said a gruff, low-toned voice as a hulking male with a shooting star-dragon tattoo up his shoulder stalked over to their table. "Who's yer girlfriend?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "What d'you want?"

The tattooed monster leaned in close to Matt, causing the youth to cringe away slightly at the smell. "I wanna hire you."

The youth's eyes narrowed.

Devoted Friend

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                                  Schoolgirl, just one of a million.
                                  Runner, freer than the birds of the sky.
                                  Spy. Getting there, anyway.

                                  Sylvia LaCroix


                                  Sylvia took a moment to regard the menu, and another as she overheard Matt's conversation with... someone he knew, apparently. Good news? Bad news? Sylvia settled on the latter and consequently feigned continued interest in the contents of the menu - though not undeservedly; she wanted to know what everything was before she made a pre-emptive decision and wound up with regrets.

                                  At the mention of employment however, her inner instincts flared wildly. This sounded already like something her dad would take interest in - and whatever he would be interested in that he didn't know about, she desperately wanted to be a part of. Of course, that held its own restrictions. Still, it brought a fair number of lights onto the manner of things - let alone what manner of person Matt was. Or, of course she could be reading too far into things, but as she set down her menu, she gave a little chuckle. "Actually we just met." She stated honestly, looking up to the stranger. "But usually it's impolite to ask someone's name to someone else right in front of them, as it is to not give your name first. So maybe you'll indulge me?" She snickered, but a tension in her left arm gave way to realizing that even in saying so, she had readied herself for trouble.

                                  Oh yes, this was certainly an interesting day.
The tattooed monster stared at Sylvia as though completely shocked she was speaking. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, causing Matt to cringe again at the foul scent. "Nice t'know." He turned back to the blue-banged youth. "You've been off the beat for too long, kid. When're you comin' back?"

Matt sighed. He set his menu down and turned to face the monster properly. "Look, Carson. You want to talk business, we'll talk business. But not here. And not now."

Carson leaned close again, his terrifying facial expression barely an inch from Matt's nose. "So you can disappear for another few months? I don't think so. We're gonna talk now."

The blue-banged youth reached up and took hold of Carson's collar and pulled the man forward so that he could talk directly into his ear. "You have ten seconds to clear out." He released Carson's collar and picked up his menu again.

Devoted Friend

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                                  Schoolgirl, just one of a million.
                                  Runner, freer than the birds of the sky.
                                  Spy. Getting there, anyway.

                                  Sylvia LaCroix


                                  That could have gone much, much worse - in fact Sylvia nearly snickered at her fortune. She had the name, and she knew he was aware of virtually nothing - and if Matt could put him in his place, she was all the more curious. Still, the boundary between thrill and discomfort had been crossed, and Sylvia reached behind the hem of her shorts to pull out a concealed switchblade just in case things got ugly. She didn't have any real intention of hurting anyone, but a good threat did wonders in public.

                                  Still, she gave a shrug and with her one unoccupied hand, returned to her menu, occasionally glancing up to double-check her peripheral awareness of the two men being - well, men.
Carson's expression went through a range of emotions in varying degrees of frustration, fury, and outright shock at the youth's treatment. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as his brain tried to supply him with some form of coherent thoughts to combat the open threat that hung in the air between them.

Matt looked over his menu at Sylvia briefly, his bronze eyes narrowing. Then he let the orbs slide to the side to stare at Carson. "Hungry?"

Carson blinked. "What?"

"Are you. Hungry."

"No."

"Then get out."

Carson bristled, but before he could say anything, Matt continued talking.

"Meet me behind the training docks tonight at nine-thirty. Don't be late. Don't bring friends. Don't be an a**. Now get lost."

The man seemed satisfied with that and turned immediately to leave. Then he thought of something to else say and turned back around.

This time, Matt stood up. He bowed slightly towards Sylvia. "Please excuse me a moment." He walked over to Carson, took hold of the man's wrist, and the two of them left the restaurant. He returned less than a minute later and sat back down; The only sign that he and Carson may have had it out with each other being the messy state of the youth's bangs. "Sorry about that. S'kind've unpleasant, right?" He smoothed down his bangs and rubbed the back of his neck. "You can put your wep away. He won't be bothering us again. Are you all right?"

Devoted Friend

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                                  Schoolgirl, just one of a million.
                                  Runner, freer than the birds of the sky.
                                  Spy. Getting there, anyway.

                                  Sylvia LaCroix


                                  Sylvia wasn't entirely sure whether to be more curious or amused at Matt's evident display of manner, but as she slid her knife back into the pocket she had drawn it from, the mention of the unpleasantness of the meeting threw her over the edge and she couldn't help but snicker. "It's not that bad." She offered, leaning back slightly. "And I'm fine, really. Just a few things to keep track of when big and burly walks up to you."

                                  Of course, that was hardly the extent of it, but something was going on, and if she were to judge by Matt's reactions, she would have to guess it was both something not good, and something he would follow up on - that, if anything, had left her equal parts uncomfortable and curious. "What was all that about anyway?" She decided to question, keeping her tone casual as she glanced over her shoulder to the door for a moment.
The waiter came over to take their orders and quickly scurried away afterwards, anxious to keep a distance from the oddly colored youths.

Matt fiddled with the spoon at his table setting. "To put it simply, I do hired work in a wide-range of fields. A lot of them under the table, if you know what I mean." He sighed and stared over Sylvia's shoulder. "I'm good at what I do. Means a lot of folks come to me. Good, bad, sketchy… Strangest person who's ever asked me was some grandma lady." He set his spoon down and leaned on his left elbow, resting the palm of his hand against the side of his chin. "Not exactly a great impression, huh? Sorry about that. You're more than welcome to leave, if you feel uncomfortable."

Devoted Friend

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                                  Schoolgirl, just one of a million.
                                  Runner, freer than the birds of the sky.
                                  Spy. Getting there, anyway.

                                  Sylvia LaCroix


                                  Uneasy? Sure, but uncomfortable? Sylvia had to stifle another laugh at that before she shook her head. "Maybe not the best first impression in the world." She shrugged, turning back to look Matt right in the eyes. "But if I were to tell you I'd rather be in on it, what would you make of it, eh?" Already she was piecing together exactly what it was that Matt could have been referring to with his allegedly varied jobs. If his description was anything to go by, and his skills in mobility demonstrated enough to claim for it, he was a thief, but judging from how he handled Carson, she couldn't help but guess violence was not outside of that range of fields.

                                  Suddenly, this went from trying to be more like her dad in the spywork field, to it probably being a good idea to let him know. As she would have it though, Sylvia wasn't about to risk her chance, and she wanted to see for herself. "What about this Carson guy?" she asked, allowing her tone to drift entirely back to conversational. "Sounds like you two go back a bit. Care to share?"

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