capitalh | you got a way with words, you got away with murder

Who: Ramir and you!
What: Shenanigans with a wanna-be villain, anyone?
Where: Anywhere through LA.
When: any time last month to next month man anything goes
Warnings: probably not!

i:

There's an art to this. You can't look like you're worried about being caught, that just ruins everything. You gotta play it cool. And not just cool, you gotta play it like you've barely even noticed anyone else on the street with you.

And you have to pick your target carefully, too.

Tourists are the best, the ones that haven't caught on yet. Tourists with a backpack hanging obliviously off a shoulder are the very best, but the square of a wallet in a back pocket is doable too. And if you get a golden opportunity with what's probably a local, well, you can't just pass it up.

Ramir has made her choice, and started an ambling walk closer in, hands pocketed. Maybe it's you she's drawing stealthily closer to, or maybe she's being a little less subtle than she'd hoped and is just working in sight of you — either way, she's aiming to be one wallet richer very shortly.

ii:

Okay, now she's got it, and it's genius. Genius, and surprisingly legal. Sort of.

She'd found a box somewhere, a crate, and set it up like a table. It had taken some doing, convincing people to arm wrestle for money. It's not much! Just a $10 entry fee, and if you win, $100 pay out. (Not that she'd had $100 when she started.) But eventually she'd gotten a crowd around her, which is the doing of her spirit of showmanship, and she's been able to keep her strength down to just above the person she's arm wrestling. Give them a show, make it seem real. Like maybe her opponent actually had a chance.

She's earned about $260 so far, and the day is still young. This? This is fun. She should've thought of this way sooner.

"Hey, come on! Check it out, I got an easy $100 for you!" comes her sing-songy tagline, directed at whoever may be headed down the street in her general direction, and her little crowd of amused onlookers provides the perfect backup.

iii:

Legality is fun, and she likes that she's pocketed a neat little $500 or so today, but Ramir never stays amused with any one thing for too long. Which is why she can be found strolling down an evening street now, eying the cars parked along the side. LA never really goes quiet, but evening gives a little cover. A little room to work with.

She won't keep the car, probably. She'll just take it for a little spin, see what it can do, maybe catcall any attractive people she sees... but she'll put it back where she got it.

Probably.

Her hand slides down the hood of a fancy red one as she passes it, and she eyes it speculatively. Yeah. Maybe this one.

iv:

Once in a while, in a great while, Ramir can be found doing something neither illegal nor shady. Sometimes she can be found doing something, like, say... relaxing on a park bench! Oh, the excitement. She sits with both legs folded under her and arms laid out along the back, looking pretty comfortable as she enjoys the breeze that's starting to pick up.

It's just an interlude, she'll be at something shifty again pretty soon... but for now, a quick break.

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He is basically confused by her lackadaisical attitude, but it's hard to get offended when she's being so...whatever this is. He wraps his arms around himself and continues to regard her carefully.

"...I don't know what that is."

"You don't know what a hotdog is?" She sounds amazed (and slightly alarmed) by that, and takes a quick step back. "Oh man, come on! You have to try one. Seriously. You haven't lived til you shoved a hotdog in your mouth."

That sounds like a weird thing to do, considering what the words "hot" and "dog" mean separately, and unless something is explained otherwise Signless is probably going to assume they are eating canine. But that honestly isn't a big deal to an Alternian, anyway.

He's really hungry, actually, considering he's had to wander all the way back from the goddamn northern forests thanks to Starscream, but he's also more than a little paranoid.

"...Why are you talking to me like this?" he asks, his red eyes scrutinizing the woman. She just started talking like they were friends, and he doesn't understand why she would treat him like that.

Those eyes are kinda creepy. But, like, in a cool way. Ramir decides she likes him, and in reflects in her grin.

"I talk to everyone like this, you ain't special." Nah, not really, but it sounds like a good answer. And normally here she'd lunge forward and grab the guy's arm, but considering how skittish he's been so far... she settles for taking another step back and beckoning.

"But seriously, come on. There's a great stand not far off from here -- you wanna try one?"

He probably wouldn't if it weren't for the fact that he can sense her emotions. It suspends some of his suspicion by necessity, when all he feels from her is the same relaxed friendliness that she shows on the outside. He stares at her, silent, for a few more moments.

Then he hesitantly follows her, like an animal finally deciding to follow bait.

Why not, really.

"It's...a dog?" he asks, uncertainly. He is ambivalent about the idea of eating a dog, but he just wants to be clear.

Cool, he actually went for it. Ramir wasn't sure if that would work. She walks half-turned toward him for a few steps, to be sure he really is following along.

"No, it's a... actually, I have no idea what's in it. Sometimes they say it's cow, but half the point of it is you got no idea if it is or not. That's the charm!" She grins over at him again, even when she's facing forward. "What's your name, anyway?"

He hesitates for a long moment, at that. Someone asking his name shouldn't be nearly so hard, and his face falls even father trying to think about it.

"Geshua," he says, faint on his breath.

Not a name she's heard before, though it does sound kinda familiar. Huh. Maybe that goes with the territory of being an alien name.

"Geshua? Cool." She smiles, then looks back ahead again. "I'm Ramir, local hooligan. But you're lucky you ran into me, because I got all the best little corners and stuff around here on lock. I mean — assuming you're new. Are you?"

That question makes him nervous, and it shows. He looks away, wrapping his arms around himself and his increasingly threadbare prison confinement uniform.

"...You haven't seen me before?" he asks slowly, looking up at her. Part of him had assumed that everyone would know about what he had done, but perhaps not.

This guy picks the weirdest stuff to get nervous over. Ramir glances over blankly and offers a shrug. "Nope. Should I have?"

He hesitates. Does he really want to tell her about any of this? He feels like her strange charity may swiftly turn sour if he does.

"I was in prison," he says, flinchingly.

"Yeah?" She doesn't look at all put off -- if anything, she's even more interested, and grins accordingly. "Shit, looks like we got a hardcore alien on our hands. What'd you do?"

"I was trying to kill my descendant," he says, tone vague and expression hazy. He looks down. "...I don't think I actually wanted to. Things are a mess."

you got a way with words, you got away with murder

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