Time For A Break

[Gabrielle "Chance" Coleman]

((I decided to start a new thread so I can be occupied while waiting for Wings to post on Flying Under The Radar. Anyone can join))

Whenever I don’t have a job, I go to the subway station. I just buy a ticket, get on a subway, and go wherever it takes me. Sometimes I might stay on for an entire day, or even through the night, just thinking or using what time I have to relax. Other people would go home to get away from work, but because my work is at home, I prefer to go outside. Can’t say it’s quite the lifestyle I want, but you get what you get.

As I walked past the hordes of people, I kept one hand on my messenger bag, keeping close watch for any pickpockets or thieves. I casually glanced left and right, lowering my head slightly when I spotted a cop standing in a far corner, his back straight and his mouth set in an impassive frown. I shifted my bag, before walking up to the automated ticket machines. As I began to purchase a ticket, I noticed a security camera mounted in a far corner, slowly rotating back and forth, scanning the large room. I regarded it with a cool gaze, before returning to my purchase, choosing to buy my ticket with cash. I grabbed a few bucks from my jacket pocket, trying not to look at the camera again. I’ve got to act casual. I inserted the money into the machine, and listened as its gears whirred, processing. Besides, it’s not like I’ll be recognized or anything. Most of my work is done underground, and I always choose a perfect place for hiding when a mission requires fieldwork. But there is always that one kind of feeling, like maybe I was spotted on a job, and the Blues have known who I am all this time.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the ticket machine practically spat out my ticket, the tiny paper landing in the holder. I sighed, before grabbing my ticket and leaving the machines.

After making my way through some people and going down a random escalator, I finally made it to the subway terminal. I looked at the signs hanging from the ceiling, reading each one thoughtfully. Where should I go? Leaning against a pillar, I gazed down at the ticket in my hand. It’s a one way trip, so I’ll be running back home. A subway car screeched as it slowly came to a stop behind me, and I gritted my teeth at the sound, a small shiver running up my spine. I turned to look at the vehicle, reading its next destination. I rolled my eyes, figuring I’d take my chances. I didn’t feel like working out my choices anyways.

I hurried into the subway car and noted how vacant it was, save for a few people. I sat down in one empty set of seats, choosing to be away from the subway’s other occupants. Pulling my laptop out of my bag, I placed it on my lap, ignoring the stares I was getting as I flipped open the monitor. I grabbed my earphones from my jacket pocket, plugged them into my computer, before placing them in my ears. Afterwards, I opened my music program, and played a random song, setting the controls to shuffle. Leaning back into my seat, I let myself relax for once, listening to the music from my earphones. I felt the car shift as it began to leave the station, and I looked out the window, watching as lights and walls melded into one, flashing past as the subway entered a dark tunnel.

My eyelids felt heavy, and my body had the sudden urge to sleep. I refused to close my eyes. A subway is no place for sleep.

[Harland "Swoop" Tomms]

((Thought I might as well jump in. Otherwise those tumbleweeds might just kill me.))

Ok, so the subway was probably not the best idea. I got that just fine. But when the cops are that excited about locking you up, one tends to grab at the first bit of rope they see. So yes, I am very aware that going into the subway, with its close quarters and numerous cameras, was probably not the best way to stay off the radar.

But hey, they shouldn't have my picture up in their database yet, and I needed a quick way to get back to Old Town. It was simple for just about anyone to vanish at the Pier and once I was in my newly claimed stomping grounds, I could find a nice hole to crawl into for a few hours or so until the heat was off.

I sighed as I sat down.

It'd been a hell of a day.

First a botched delivery. Then evading arrest. Then that psycho runner lady in green. Then more evading arrest. And all of it with only a granola bar, a bag on M&Ms and a bottle of water in my stomach.

I was going to be miserably hungry for a little while. At the very least until I could sneak a sandwich from somewhere without too much fear of stepping into one of those Warner Brothers rope around the ankle traps.

The subway car was fairly empty, save a few odd folks here and there; a guy reading the paper, some kids with what I guessed was their grandmother, an exhausted looking brunette girl messing with her laptop, and a few other commuters. It was in between rush hours so there wouldn't be much traffic down here for another hour or two. I'd bought a ticket for some random place a good ten miles away from where I really wanted to go. Couldn't hurt to be paranoid in this city, and anything that put the blues away from me was alright in my book. Hell, I'd throw doughnuts at them if it came to that.

But what was really on my mind was the little nugget I'd found in the pill bottle; my new reason for being glad I hadn't made my delivery. After I'd gotten away from the runner lady -who I may not have mentioned was absolutely out of her freaking mind- I'd decided to do a little Dick Tracey impression and investigate the item that had caused my day to go from "kinda ok" to "shit, I'm a felon". Turned out, my detective instincts, which I wasn't aware I had, proved handy as a little jump drive fell into my hands amid a small flood of blue triangular pills.

Somebody had used me as a patsy. Data trafficking of any kind was about ten different kinds of illegal in this town, and people caught doing it were in for a very long chat with the local law enforcement. So you can probably imagine my feelings at finding this doo-dad in what I had thought was an innocent delivery job.

The fact that the little blue pills happened to be those little blue pills really didn't help.

I made a mental list of things I now needed to do.

Number one: Lay low for a little while.

Number two: Get something decent to eat after laying low.

Number three: find out what the hell was on this jump drive.

Number four: be weirded out for next few days by the fact
the runner lady in green had taken my over shirt as her own.

All in all, that sounded like a good game plan.

And if I was being honest, the day hadn't been a complete wash. I was now the proud owner of a recently gone missing black leather jacket. It was a well worn thing that had obviously seen a few better days, but I didn't mind. There was a homey sort of feeling to it which made it a much better fit to me than something new. I almost felt bad that I'd lifted it out of somebody's locker at the mall.

I leaned back into the faux-leather seat of the subway car as it pulled away from the station. Hopefully I could at least round off the night without any more interruptions.

[Gabrielle "Chance" Coleman]

I watched as a young man entered the car, moving over to a seat not too far away from me. He sighed as he sat down, and then he was completely gone, deep in thought. He seemed tired, exhausted even. Must have gone through a lot today, I mused, looking the man up and down. I guess we both had a bad day. He looked like your average person. Short, golden brown hair, and green eyes, wearing a black leather jacket and grey jeans. I turned my head to look at him fully, smiling weakly.

“Busy day?” I asked, removing my earphones, and I would’ve slapped myself then and there. I didn’t know why I did that. Maybe because I could also feel his exhaustion? But, starting a conversation with a complete stranger who’s probably too tired to even feel like dealing with other people asking about his day? Great first impression.

It’s none of my business anyways, I thought, scolding myself. Talking to someone I don’t know...way to go, Chance. I closed my laptop, waiting to see if the man would reply or not. You can’t get too friendly with strangers nowadays...He could be a cop for all you know, or just the kind of guy who would turn and tell the authorities if he found out about my...occupation. I raised a hand to massage my forehead. I think I just made a huge mistake...

[Harland "Swoop" Tomms]

"Busy day?" A soft female voice asked.

I looked up and was surprised to see the exhausted looking brunette who'd been messing with her computer was looking at me. Apparently I must have still had a irritated look on my face -hey the day had sucked so far- because she suddenly looked nervous. Poor thing looked like she expected me to leap out of my seat and attack her with a bit of wood; in a way it reminded me of my younger brother when he'd broken our grandma's favorite lamp.

Then again, after the day I'd had, I probably looked a little less than welcoming of conversation. I could empathize with being a little neurotic in this city. Or she might have just had her own brand of crappy day.

"Yeah, in my own special sorta way," I replied. Then gave her a weak smile to hopefully show her I wasn't about to come at her with that bit of wood; no reason to be snippy. "I don't think I like the mall anymore. Or blond women either."

She gave me an odd look and I shrugged.

"They're both trouble on their own. Put 'em together? You get a clusterfuck of a day. Right now, I'm just going to head home, sleep until my back is sore all over again, and try to forget today's crap."

I shifted in my seat, damn zipper head on the jacket was poking me. I glanced at her.

"How bout you? Look like somebody woke you up at two in the morning on a Saturday for their SATs."

[Gabrielle "Chance" Coleman]

Surprisingly, the man replied, “Yeah, in my own special sorta way.” He then smiled weakly, and I relaxed somewhat. So I wasn’t bothering him. Good. The man continued, “I don’t think I like the mall anymore. Or blond women either.”

Okay... I arched an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. “They’re both trouble on their own. Put ‘em together? You get a clusterfuck of a day. Right now, I’m just going to head home, sleep until my back is sore all over again, and try to forget today’s crap.” I nodded my head in understanding. So he had a bad day after all...involving the mall, and a blond woman. Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.

“How bout you?” the man asked. “Looks like somebody woke you up at two in the morning on a Saturday for their SATs.”

I gave a small laugh, shaking my head. “Something like that. I did a few all-nighters in the last two or three days.” I gave a glance at my laptop. “I should probably stay away from the computer for a while.” I returned my gaze to the man, and held my hand out to him. “My name’s Chance,” I told him, smiling. I knew I was crossing the borderline of safety by telling him my runner name, but I’d rather not spend my time thinking of an alias. Plus, he looked nice enough. I’d doubt he’d turn me in.

[Harland "Swoop" Tomms]

The brunette chuckled at my question. It was nice to see my humor can be appreciated every once in a while.

"Something like that. I did a few all-nighters in the last two or three days." She replied, then glanced at her laptop with a thoughtful expression. “I should probably stay away from the computer for a while.”

She turned her gaze back to me and held her hand out with a small smile. It was quiet and shy; the kind of smile that a cute girl-next-door sort of person would give and she seemed to fit the bill well enough.

"My name's Chance."

She seemed harmless enough. Not to mention that it was nice to have at least one decent, nobody is immediately trying to kill us, conversation today.

I gave her hand a quick shake and nodded. "Harland. And no, I don't make chicken. But if you want to call me 'colonel', that's fine."

[Gabrielle "Chance" Coleman]

"Harland," the man said as we shook hands. When we withdrew from each other, Harland continued, "And no, I don't make chicken. But if you want to call me 'colonel,' that's fine." I understood the joke, and my smile widened as I tried to stifle my laugh, with one hand covering my mouth. A few passengers in the car gave me some odd looks, but I chose to ignore them, thinking, nothing like some good old humour to brighten your day. I'll have to thank him for that later.

"I think I'll just go with Harland," I finally told him, leaning back in my seat. "I have to admit though," I paused, arching a brow in curiousity, "that name is kinda uncommon in these parts. Are you from out-of-town?" Noticing my rudeness, I quickly added, "That is, if you don't mind me asking..."

[Harland "Swoop" Tomms]

Chance grinned and resisted a little giggle at my very poor attempt at a joke.

"I think I'll just got with Harland. I have to admit though, "that name is kinda uncommon in these parts. Are you from out-of-town?" She seemed to stiffen for a moment, like she'd done something wrong and hastily added, "That is, if you don't mind me asking."

I shrugged. "Nah it's alright. Yeah, I'm from outta town. And it's uncommon in 'those parts' as well. Folks were tickled with the name and had it for me before I could have any sort of say in the matter. Don't feel too bad, people've been saying the same thing ever since I got here."

The thought of home and exactly how I got here darkened my expression a little. Nothing like talking about it to really remind you how bad of a spot you're in.

"Kinda got duped into coming out here actually. I ever find the guy that put that college scam site up, I'll whoop the unholy Christ out of 'em."

I waved the that train of thinking away. "But that's neither here nor there. How 'bout you? This home sweet irritating home for you or just some city ya wandered into?"

[Gabrielle "Chance" Coleman]

Harland shrugged, replying, “Nah, it's alright. Yeah, I'm from outta town. And it's uncommon in 'those parts' as well.” I listened patiently, watching as Harland continued, “Folks were tickled with the name and had it for me before I could have any sort of say in the matter. Don't feel too bad, people've been saying the same thing ever since I got here.” Sometime while he was talking, I noticed that his tone had changed slightly, but I had no intention to ask about it. Like I said before, it’s none of my business.

“Kinda got duped into coming out here actually. I ever find the guy that put that college scam site up, I'll whoop the unholy Christ out of 'em." I regarded Harland once more, hoping I wasn’t looking too curious. Scam sites, huh? I looked straight ahead, raising a hand to rest my chin on. Those are quite frequent around here. Poor guy didn’t know what hit him.

“But that’s neither here nor there.” I returned my attention back to Harland, just as he asked, “How ‘bout you? This home sweet irritating home for you or just some city ya wandered into?"

“Oh, I came here about two years ago,” I told him, and with a sheepish expression, I explained, “I ran away from my parents and needed a place to stay, so I guess you can call this hectic city a home.”

[Harland "Swoop" Tomms]

I winced a little.

Good going Harl. Remind the lady about that sorta crap. Real smooth.

"Ah, sorry about that. Didn't mean to dredge up bad memories."

Suddenly the idea home and the family seemed a lot more inviting; after all, I'd just been reminded that some folks out there didn't have either. It's the sort of realization that makes all those petty differences seem real unimportant.

[Gabrielle "Chance" Coleman]

"Ah, sorry about that. Didn't mean to dredge up bad memories." I looked at Harland, blinking for a moment, before shaking my head.

"No, that's okay," I replied, facing forward again. "You didn't know about it, so it's not your fault." After a short pause, I added softly, "Two years is a long time anyway. Talking about them doesn't..." I stopped, searching for the right word, "upset me anymore."

I didn't know if that was a lie or if it was the truth. Sure, I sometimes think back to the life I had with my family, but that doesn't mean anything...right?

[Andrew "Bullet" Stewart]

((Mind if I join? :3))
I thought about the incident with Spirit in this subway, the shriek of the bloodied man that was killed by Blues. I needed to find out more. Was it plague? a virus? These are the questions I wanted answered.

I was wearing my blue hoodie and underneath it my yellow tank-top with red lines going down the right band. I wore my Black Cargo pants as well.

As I got to the station, it was more crowded then usual but nothing changed much. the ticket machines to the far right, vending machines opposite and finally, the neatest trains you could ever find in Verril City. Hell maybe even the world. I decided I needed a break from the rooftops and decided to take the train.

I hopped on the nearest one as quickly as I could, except that one happened to be the most full. I sighed in thought of the long trip that was to come before me. I kept looking for an empty seat on every car. 'Nope, nope, nope, nope, not there, uh-uh, and nope' I said with disbelief.
"Where is this train going anyway?" I muttered under my own breath. I checked the timetable then the clock inside the train.
'6:40 pm, okay....' I checked the timetable again.
The 6:40 train led from Verril trade building to the north subway. I sighed. 'that explains everything'.

Still searching for a seat, I found one, right opposite this woman who was trying to cover-up a laugh. before sitting down I put my hood up as to not allow my face to be shown. Who knows, Blues could be after me too.

I started listening to their conversation.
I was listening about the females parents. I sighed, quite loudly she looked at me.

[Gabrielle "Chance" Coleman]

((sorry for not replying in a while. I was wondering if Swoop was going to reply next, so I just waited))

After a small silence fell between Harland and I, I heard the next stop announced over the subway cart's PA system. I considered whether or not I should get off there, but I was starting to like talking to Harland. It felt nice to have a conversation with someone, especially since I was holed up in my apartment for a few days, working on a delivery and living only on pizza delivery. I turned to ask Harland where he was getting off, but I stopped myself when I heard a loud sigh.

I turned to see a teenage boy seated opposite of me, wearing a blue hoodie and black pants. He had black hair, bangs combed to the side, with the rest spiked at the back. Interesting hairstyle, I mused with an inward smile. He wasn't facing me, and his hood was up, so I couldn't really identify him. Still, why did he sigh? Bad day, just like me and Harland here? Or maybe he was eavesdropping?

At first, I felt like asking him if he was doing such an action, but I didn't want to seem accusing. So instead, I returned my gaze forwards, trying not to feel at least a bit uncomfortable if the boy really had heard what I said.

[Harland "Swoop" Tomms]

(Hey sorry about the wait. I got home about two weeks ago and found that my modem had literally exploded cause of the storms going on down here in Florida. Gotta say, that was an interesting thing to come home too. I finally got the replacement in the mail yesterday, a fact that will forever make me irritated with FedEx as I ordered it the day after the storm, and I'm ready to jump back on in. Hopefully it won't happen to be off a building but who knows, this is a Runner RP.)

"Talking about them doesn't," she paused here looking pensive and troubled, " upset me anymore."

Well, there wasn't much to say to that. I guess the gentlemanly thing to do would be to apologize again for bringing it up, but I got the feeling both of us would find the gesture unnecessary. So, smooth talker that I am, I decided to shut my bad memory bringing up mouth.

The PA pleasantly announced that the next stop was coming up.

I was about to try and start over -- the girl was looking a little sulky now, not to mention I still felt a bit bad about bringing stuff up-- when somebody decided to join us. A guy, either younger than me or just really thin, sat down next to Chance. Loose black pants and a hoodie were about all there was to the kid, and the hood was up so I couldn't get more than a general idea of what he looked like.

Had let out this big sigh too, like his girlfriend had just left him.

Welp, I guess hosting a support group on the subway ain't the worst way to spend an afternoon. God, I wish I had a smoke.

I considered saying somethin to the kid, but he looked like the type that would start talking when he damn well felt like it so I turned back to Chance. She was the prettier anyway, so no big loss.

"But enough'a that sad sack sorta stuff. You seem like the type of girl who knows her way around. And to be perfectly honest, I'm all kinds a lost in this town. Know anybody who's hiring? Getting a little short on cash and I'd rather not have ta learn how to dance on one'a them poles, ya know? Knees wouldn't stand for it."

It was stupid, I knew. I'd literally just dodged my way outta the mall with a bunch of cops and that crazy green lady after me, but that didn't change the fact I was starting to find holes in my pockets instead of money. And I didn't fancy the idea of being hungry and sleeping in a gutter. So, I decided to, heh heh, take a chance.

If I was gonna live in this town, I'd have to be a little more daring anyhow.

[Gabrielle "Chance" Coleman]

((no worries, Swoop. Even though I've never actually experienced that problem myself, I understand))

"But enough'a that sad sack sorta stuff," I heard Harland say, and I looked at him. "You seem like the type of girl who knows her way around. And to be perfectly honest, I'm all kinds a lost in this town." Interested, I watched as he asked, "Know anybody who's hiring? Getting a little short on cash and I'd rather not have ta learn how to dance on one'a them poles, ya know? Knees wouldn't stand for it." I smiled. He sure knows how to cheer someone up with that humour of his. I was glad that the mood had changed. It made me a bit uncomfortable, sure, but that aside, at least we weren't talking about my parents anymore.

I looked down in thought, and shrugged as I returned my gaze to Harland. "I do know a few places, but it depends on what kind of job you're looking for." I paused. "Do you want to discuss this somewhere else? Over some lunch perhaps?" Sheepishly, I added, "If you're hungry, that is."