In the Pocket of a Stranger [Open]

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro Lawson crept down the alleyway, watching passerby ignore him as he kept himself hidden in the shadows. None of the people looked as if they had quite the amount of money he was searching for. More than once a drunken person had been quite a bit richer than most normal people. However, this evening, he was looking for someone who seemed a lot less likely to put up a fight he couldn't win.

Jiro crouched down in the shadows, watching each and every person who strolled, tripped, or crawled by with interest.

[Dillon]

OOC: For RP purposes, this takes place shortly before Dillon meets up (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=35911&perpage=50&pagenumber=3) with his sister.

Hands thrust into his sleeves, Dillon trudged disappointedly out of a bar (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=36121), cap jammed back on his head. His pockets were stuffed, but not with credits; paper scraps, candy, and other trappings of youth filled them, and his knife - a relatively new plaything, a toy he'd never used seriously before - rode comfortably in his back pocket.

Money. He needed money. There was a scrap of paper somewhere in the coat, some sort of job posting or other, though water had blurred half the words into illegibility.

With the too-large jacket, his slow, unsure walk, and the cap hiding his eyes, the teenager looked considerably younger than his sixteen years, and much more vunerable.

[Jiro Lawson]

There he was. The perfect pick pocket material. A young child, looking lonely, and angry. Jiro watched as they walked into his alley way. His territory.

Jiro crept out of the shadows and began to walk behind the child, his hands stuffed in his pockets. His eyes watched the lanky gait of the person and he figured if they started fighting he would win. Despite his fairly scrawny frame, he wasn't helpless by any stretch of the imagination, and he had taken out many teenagers quite a bit bigger than he. Probably because of his knack to avoid things easily.

Jiro tailed the boy for a few steps then began to walk faster and get closer, scoping out a good small outcropping to get the kid to spill it.

[Dillon]

One hand went to his coat pocket and rustled around. Nothing like a shot of sugar for a pick-me-up - now where was that gum? Passerby kept jostling by him as he walked, trying to extricate the candy from his cluttered pocket, so Dillon sidestepped into an alley and leaned back against the wall, fishing through the loose candy wrappers until he found one that wasn't empty. Pleased, he popped the gum into his mouth and whistled a few notes as he shoveled the empty wrappers into the nearby dumpster, his back to the alley entrance.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro stopped momentarily as the boy disappeared from his immidiate vision. He saw the child step into an alley way. Just like clockwork, he thought with a smile as he pulled a small knife from his pocket and flipped out the blade. He doubted he'd have to use it, but it was always reassuring to have it in case the person mutinied.

Jiro walked to the alley and saw the boy standing with his back to him. Jiro watched as he pulled a bit of gum from the deep recesses of his pocket and put it into his mouth with satisfaction.

"Chew quietly and hand over your goods and I'll go in peace," Jiro muttered, putting a hand on the kid's shoulder and pushing him farther back into the alley.

[Dillon]

Dillon stumbled forward, but caught one hand on the dumpster's edge and flung himself back around angrily, lashing out to grab the hand that had clamped itself around his shoulder. It belonged to a larger boy. He yanked the stranger's arm towards himself, turning to ram his shoulder into the boy's gut.

"Well tough dren - " Then he saw what was in the other boy's hand and let go of the arm. "Frell!"

He backed up past the dumpster, reaching into his own back pocket for the knife. The other boy followed. As Dillon hit the alley's dead end, he flipped out the balisong and let the handle swing open into his fingers, pointing the blade out at the newcomer.

"You better just go, unless you want to be resting in peace, if you get my drift." He didn't actually know how to attack someone with a knife, but... hey. Improvisation.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro's scowl deepened as he recovered from the blow in the gut. He watched the small child, who suddenly didn't look so small, back up against the end of the alley and brandish his own weapon. Jiro straightened his back. He looked at his knife, then the other's. His opponent's was slightly smaller, but its wielder was obviously less experienced at using the weapon. Jiro smiled, leveling his knife.

"Look, kid, I don't want too much trouble."

[Dillon]

"You're wasting your time. All I got is gum. Not that you'd want it now." The boy cracked the gum in his mouth and waved his free right hand in the direction of the dumpster. "Frell, you can have the wrappers, I threw them out already. Or this." He reached his right hand into the coat pocket and flung a scrap of paper at the larger boy. The letters "ELP WANT" were barely visible before it fluttered to the ground.

"You want money, go there, get a job or just rob them, whatever - either way you'll get more from them than you will from me."

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro was nonplussed. He was admiring the knife in the other boy's hand. He wasn't sure if the kid was aware of the fact that that knife could very well get him close to twenty or thirty credits. Not much, but enough to do something with. Jiro was looking at the handle. It was worn, but the odd inscriptions were still fairly obvious. He bent over to look under his hand onto the handle more. He nodded to it.

"I'll take that."

[Dillon]

The knife had taken him two pool games and a bar bet involving eleven shots of whiskey to earn, and if that kid thought Dillon was going to let him pawn it off for a few lousy credits-

Dillon's arm shot out, the butt of the knife handle whacking his bent-over opponent hard on the side of the head. While the other kid was stunned, Dillon shoved off the wall to his right, pushing past the larger boy.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro snapped out of the pain quickly as he felt the boy push past. His hand stretched out to grab him, but his fingers just barely brushed his shirt. Jiro chased him. He lengthened his pace and gained on him. He jumped tackling the other boy and wrenching his opponents hand away that weilded the knife. He tried to pull it from the boy's hand but his grip was strong.

"Look, kid. It's as simple as opening your hand and letting it go. Come on, kid, I don't want to hurt you."

[Dillon]

"I'd like.... to avoid that too... as much as possible..." Dillon muttered from between clenched teeth. An armbar wasn't the most comfortable of positions to be in, though, and his grip loosened as the other boy pried the knife from his fingers. He lunged for it with his free hand, but couldn't reach without doing something very painful to his left shoulder, which was still pinned. Dillon was strong for his size, but on the ground, being small and light was a decided disadvantage.

He brought his knee up and kicked, knocking the other boy's knife out of his hand. It clattered on the ground; he twisted his neck and scrabbled for it with his right hand, wrestling the larger youth back with his left elbow and shoulder. Two fingers touched the handle - fumbled - and grasped, as the other boy sprawled on top and drove the wind out of Dillon. It was a larger knife, easier to clutch, and its blade was still swung open.

Face pressed to the ground, Dillon grinned. There wasn't much air left in him. "Trade ya," he gasped.

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro scrabbled for the other boy's hand. He grabbed his wrist and jerked it upward, bending it behind his opponent's back. He pulled at the smaller boy's fingers, trying to get the knife.

"C'mon kid, just let it go. Have my knife if you must, but this'll get me several credits..." he muttered.

[Dillon]

Dillon let go of his own knife and jerked away, crashing mostly free of the larger boy's grip and completely into the wall. Ow. Pain. Shoulder.

"Two pool games and a bar bet," he said, "and it's a fair trade." Dillon was now holding the other boy's knife, and the other boy was holding Dillon's. "That's what this one cost me."

Something hot and thin splashed from Dillon's face onto the ground. He brought a coat sleeve up to his nose to stop the trickle of bleeding. It wasn't bad.

"Or we can swap back and I'll get you some dinner - that's worth 'several credits,' I'd think."

[Jiro Lawson]

Jiro watched the drop of blood slip off the boy's lip and hit the ground. Jiro wiped blood off his own cheek from a small cut under his eye. He looked at the knife in his hand. He sucked at pool, and had never won any bet he'd ever taken part in. This knife could possibly get him several credits. Losing two pool games and a bet could lose him both knives and his pride. Jiro scowled, rubbing more blood from his jaw as it dripped down his cheek.

Jiro could take his chance at the pool games. He could definately have a go at the bet. He could also turn now and attempt to run away with the knife. However, the boy in front of him was not small by any stretch of the imagination, but he was not as tall as Jiro either. And Jiro knew that he had only caught the boy earlier because of his opponent's apparent inexperiance at being stolen from. The other boy was much faster, and Jiro knew that. He rubbed his temple, letting the knife swing foward until he was holding blade, the handle towards the other boy.

"Fine. Just give me my knife and I'll find somebody else who has less of a will."