2011 08 07 Pickpocket Picked The Wrong Pocket

Log Title: Pickpocket picked the wrong pocket

Characters: Gomi, Mike

IC Date: 19 August 2011

Location: 21 Club, Theater District

Brief Log Summary: Gomi chooses the wrong guy to pick pocket.

Rating: PG

There is no TS in the log: Yes
8/19/2011

09:29 PM
Logfile from Marvel Untold Mux.

-==[ 21 Club - New York ]==---------

Low lit, and always having someone on stage singing, this club offers social as well as an isolation demeaner. People from all walks of life come here to relax, and get away from it all. The club itself is only open after dark until just before daybreak so it offers a darker feel. High walled booths line the far walls, a small dance floor is normally occupied with the slow dancer who sway to the soft music, and the bar is lined with stools and offers anything the customer can dream up.

Places used.

Contents:

Gomi

Obvious Exits:

[O] - Theater District - New York

On a Friday night, 21 Club is not suffering from a lack of people. It is hosting plenty tonight, to the point where the bouncer outside has severely upped his standards of who to allow in next. Despite that, with the dark lighting of the room, it does not seem that crowded from sight alone. There is enough visibility to allow for dancing and the floor consists of quite a number of dancers and if the lighting were up any more, they would be visibly packed. The air conditioning blows directly to the center of the club where the largest mass of humanity collects.

The booths are somewhat less crowded, with a couple spare booths surrounding one of the occupied once being left vacant. Judging from the gruff and older appearances of those seated there. The vacancies around their booth may be quite intentional. They pay little heed to the groupings around them, leaned in, fully intent on their own conversations.

As for Mik- err, Mick, he is situated upon the stage, hair down, stage makeup on, and attire, although toned down from his usual concert outfits, still very much a Drago-ish thing to wear. The house band is set up with him offering their services as he croons one of his mellower songs. How rare they may be, they do exist.

You paged Ares with 'Heaven help me I actually posed Mike on stage to open.'

Ares pages: hah

You paged Ares with 'Guess it was bound to happen'

You paged Ares with 'Anywho it's more to get Gomi to interact with the NPCs first'

Gomi has managed to slip in behind a couple of people and enters the club, a satchel slung over one shoulder. He shields his eyes from the flashing lights, looking around at his targets. He looks incredibly out of place here, being so young and scrawny, and wearing a blue jogging suit, but that makes him more or less ignored by the 'cool' kids. Deft hands slip in and out of back pockets, grabbing credit cards and cash, then dropping the discarded wallet on the floor and stuffing his bounty into his bag.

With the music playing and dancing occuring, there are some bumps here and there but it is to be expected in such close proximity with other dancers. There's little more than a half assed glance, a mutter of how Gomi must have come in early and not much more as they continue enjoying themselves.

Mike blissfully unaware nor within reach of Gomi's wandering pickpocketing hands continues with his song, the rhythm starting to pick up a bit more which to some dancers seems code to swinging their arms around. One of these flailing limbs comes towards the direction of Gomi's face.

As for the men in their island of a booth, cut off from the occupied boots, one of the well dressed older men breaks from the table, moving towards the bar. In what little lighting there is, there is a glimmer of reflection coming off of some of the rings on his fingers.

Gomi is smacked in the face by the back of someone's hand, causing his glasses to go askew. "Yikes!" he exclaims, stumbling back into someone as he tries ot fix them and make sure his nose isn't bleeding. "Such perils are to be expected in a profession such as ours, Bill. There is no need for offensive maneuvers." the shiny rings capture his attention, and he decides to set his sights a bit higher.

It is likely a good thing that the dancers are not all that attentive to their surroundings. Surely a couple lobsters would be attention grabbing, wouldn't they? They continue to dance away, blissfully unaware.

During a portion of the song where there's an instrumental feature, Mike's eyes catch a glimpse of the out of place pick pocket. Curious and feeling the slightest bit of recollection, he finds himself glancing towards Gomi trying to place him.

As for the man with the rings, his approach to the bar is hindered by a couple of club goers who step in his way. Giving a gruff sound, he glares at the two before closing the gap between him and the bar.

Gomi has Bill and Don in the satchel, but occasionally they poke their heads out to look around. "Stay down, we don't want to be too conspicuous." his hand dips into the back pocket of a jock, slipping the wallet into his own pocket, then backs toward the bar, ducking between the club goers and behind the man with the rings, reaching for his suit jacket pocket.

Placing the person but with the singing break coming to an end, Mike's attention turns back to the microphone, picking up where he needs to. Gomi and what surrounds him is ignored for now.

Alas poor Gomi, he has used up his good fortune for the day it seems as one of his earlier victim emerges to move towards the bar already reaching to his back pocket to retrieve his w-. The dancer pauses, in essence feeling up his own cheek to confirm his fear before voicing them. "Someone took my wallet!"

With the raised voice combining with the general acoustics of the club, the announcement carries over to the bar to the man with the rings. Unlike the dancers, this man is attentive and his arm swings back quickly, not going to check for his wallet but to check to see if anyone's behind him. The head also turns, eyes narrowed, and expression full on with the intent to cause whoever has the misfortune to be discovered behind him much harm. Due process? What's that?

Gomi looks up at the man, trying to look as innocent as possible. "Greetings, sir, it appeared that you had a string on your coat attached via static cling. Perhaps you would like it removed for you?" he asks, swallowing hard.

The man looks down at Gomi, eyes narrowing as he looks to the kid, the pickpocket's age and appearance not working very well in this instance as the man reaches for his collar quickly. "Com'ere!" He snaps. The nearer patrons look to the two in a surprised manner but due to indifference or for others, after a quick assessment, the general consensus comes out to be the same. You're on your own, kid. If to add a bit more tension to the scene, the song finishes.

Gomi doesn't back up fast enough and is grabbed by the front of his collar, forcing him to look up at the man with a now startled expression. Bill and Don move around in his bag, but it's secured, so they can't get out at the moment. "I assure you, kind sir, that my intentions were not ill-willed." he says, trying to loosen his grip by placing his small hands on the man's larger ones. "I think I hear my oven on, perhaps I shall relocate home now and leave you fine folks to your…whatever is going on here."

The larger man tugs the boy closer, the grip on the collar tightening, "Not so fast kid." He glances down towards the satchel and then towards Gomi's pants before reaching his free hand down to the pants pocket, "What've you been up to?"

The trio left at the booth lean a bit forward towards the center of their table, garnering a better view of the situation, but none of them do much more than watch quietly. After all. It's just a kid.

Music starts up once more but the style is different and purely instrumental as the house band takes over the sound of the club, doing their best to encourage people to start dancing again and to pay no attention to the man without a curtain. The singer is, oddly absent from the stage.

Gomi doesn't really feel comfortable with some strange man's hands in his pants, so he clamps his eyes shut and says, "My apologies for this, sir, but I cannot allow you to proceed." then BLAM, the telekinetic blast would separate them. Falling back, he scrambles to his feet and looks at all the people staring at him, hefting his satchel over his shoulder. "I believe the show is over, you may now continue with your regularly scheduled…dancing." and he tries to head for the door, ducking beneath elbows and even skidding between legs. Being a shrimp has its advantages, sometimes.

Gomi has reconnected.

With the one well dressed man down, two of the others from the booth gets up and start moving, leaving the fourth remaining seated. Perhaps he's making sure no one takes their booth or judging from the expression on his face, he is hardly interested in doing more than watching. Instead, he rests his arm on the table, raising up a hand to act as a perch for his angular yet strong features.

The other two, who Gomi is likely going to be more concerned about run past their fallen acquaintance and proceed to make good distance pursuing Gomi as they shove through people. Alerted by the shouts of the men in suits, the bouncer steps in the doorway to block Gomi's exit. It is quite an intimidating sight indeed for all of a few seconds before the bouncer falls to the floor, seemingly hit by some unseen attacker.

Gomi slips when he gets to the exit, falling flat on his duff. Sliding backwards, he looks over his shoulder to see the other two men and scrambles to his feet, grabbing his bag and climbing over the fallen bouncer to try and escape. "How oddly convenient."

As Gomi crawls over, the bouncer starts to move but seems to get hit again, the force of the hit likely vibrating to the crawling Gomi reminicent of what one may feel when holding a punching bag.

The man at the booth is watching a bit more intently now before he brings his voice up. "Leave him!" One of them halts, while the other, quite possibly not hearing, or quite possibly not caring continues towards the doorway to grab at Gomi.

Gomi turns to try and blast the man chasing him, frowning as he tries to figure out what happened to the bouncer. How did the man just drop like that? Gomi's TK blast is a cone straight ahead, which might take out some tables and knock people down in its path. "I think we should make a hasty retreat."

With the blast, the final pursuer does get blown back. Feet leaving the ground he ends up being caught by those with the misfortune of standing in the path he got pushed, leading to an awkward pile of club people. There are a few cries from the line waiting to come in along with the one, non-impressed query as to who is next to go in the club.

Gomi stumbles back a couple of steps, his head throbbing. "I believe it is time for a hasty retreat." he says, sprinting for the exit, this time making it outside. "That was not the best laid plan, I am afraid. At least we got enough for a few cans of tuna!"

Gomi's exit is not much further hindered as no one continues pursuit, leaving Gomi to go purchase his tuna. Oh hey, he had some luck leftover after all!

~Fin~

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