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[arsiento]

[ The feed turns on shakily and abruptly, showing at first a view of mostly sky, but then it catches more blurry glimpses of scenery -- what might be recognizable as downtown Nonah, if someone were to squint or was just very familiar with the area by now -- as it moves again, as if being wrestled from someone. Voices can be heard above the fainter sounds of traffic, although there's the steady pulse of a nearby car stereo playing loudly and, occasionally, an engine revving.

Then the communicator steadies, being held at its owner's side; the camera now gives an un-aimed view the street, though at a somewhat diagonal, catching about half of the car in question in the shot. A guy's voice, about a foot away, says: "--the sickest shit I ever seen, man! Orale, show the guy, Angie!" And then the communicator moves again, the man holding it taking a step back as Angie breathes fire about five feet into the air. Only the fire and not Angie herself is visible on the screen, although within moments the speaker is stepping close again.

"You see that? It's legit, right? Just one selfie, man! Just one, come on!" ]

Then what, you'll finally beat it? [ Diablo's not speaking into the communicator, obviously, so his voice is muted, though still audible. ] I got nothing to say about no heroes, kid. Whatever you want? It ain't got nothing to do with me.

[ "Yeah, yeah, whatever! Damn, why you got to be such a bummer, dude?" The communicator raises again, rotating around to show two people: #1, a heavily tattooed man in a letterman-style jacket, "Diablo" embroidered on it like a nametag, looking impatiently at #2, who appears to be a teenager with slicked back hair ("AA" shaved into the sides), a lightning bolt tattoo on his neck, and large mirrored sunglasses. ]

Okay, how--

[ But, smiling delightedly, the boy waves into the camera, declaring: "Heeeey, imPorts! Que onda, stay crazy, guys -- we still believe in you! We got your backs now, so take it easy! Ride or die, man!" before he laughs and runs out of frame to join his off-screen friends; the car motor revs again. Diablo, still holding the communicator, does nothing for a moment except flick his eyes irritably and skeptically in that direction, then turns the camera around to capture the kids driving away. The car's plate reads "DOUBLE A". ]

Man, the hell was that. [ And now the camera once again rotates, his skeptical gaze gracing the screen. ] If that's what you all got around here, then no wonder they be importing in heroes like furniture.

[ Well... "heroes," as the still-dubious expression on his face may go on to suggest. He shrugs, then shakes his head. ]

But hey, y'know-- it's whatever. Anyone know where's a good shoe place around here?

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[restingstitchface]

[He fires off the address of a place that specializes in good Italian shoes. Because one can look like a thug but there's no excuse for poor footwear.

But hey! It's this guy from the bar again.]

Prone to burglary though, so I hear.

[He isn't responsible, all right? Robbery's more your business.]

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[arsiento]

[ Diablo squints, tilting his head. ]

So where's that supposed to leave me, then, if people jacking all the merchandise?

[restingstitchface]

[He might notice Crane's new Italian shoes.]

In the middle of a considerable problem. What will you do about it?

[arsiento]

Hey, man, I got enough problems. Why the hell would I want more?

[ True that they are nice shoes, though, if different than what Diablo had in mind. ]

Whatever you thinking, I don't do that.

[restingstitchface]

Oh? What do you do, then?

[He tilts his head, birdlike. A profession shines a good light on an individual's behavior and personality. Don't get hot under the collar, now.]

[arsiento]

Nothing. I don't do nothing, homie.

[ His brow tenses warily. Like, he gets it, he's covered in prison tats, but he knows how to recognize and sidestep easy bait when he sees it, too. Well, hears it. ]

What's it matter?

[restingstitchface]

[He pauses, examining and analysing every part of that answer. He knows when somebody's being evasive and doesn't appreciate the disrespect to his intelligence. All he wants is information: and he wants more than body language. He shrugs. Is that too much to ask?]

Nothing much.

Though the devil makes work for idle hands, you know.

[arsiento]

[ Yes. Yes it is.

Though, that gets a scoff-like exhalation. ]

And you believe that?

[restingstitchface]

[Granny said it often enough.]

No. Though I do believe superstition is one of our most fascinating behaviors. Did you know B.F. Skinner in 1947 published a study of pigeons that showed even animals are subject to this behavior? It's quite fascinating.

[Nerd talk ahoy.]

[arsiento]

Well, the devil works through all kinds of people, in all kinds of different ways. Ain't got nothing to do with no idle hands, homie, trust me.

[ Then... a pause. ]

Why the hell would I know that?

[restingstitchface]

[Touchy. But he's right; he's not the intelligent sort who would know that. He offers a shrug.]

Because it's fascinating? But I digress. You were asking about affordable shoes, weren't you?

[Not the good sort, obviously.]

[arsiento]

Yeah. Fascinating maybe if you ain't got nothing better to think about.

[ It's a rather narrow interpretation of intelligence at any rate, but... a bird enthusiast he's never been. A tragic fact made all the more tragic by how unlikely it is to change, but he's always had to pay more attention to the beliefs of people. ]

You think I can't afford good shoes? [ Well, right at this second he can't, mostly because they don't usually give you money back when they pull you out of prison. But-- it's fine. He'll handle it. ] Let me worry about affordable, that part don't concern you. I'm just asking where the stores at -- you know, weigh my options.

[restingstitchface]

Of course you are.

[It's said in that calm, patient tone people have learned to associate with therapists. Not that he's always been the gentle sort of doctor.]

I imagine you can find affordable shoes in the shopping mall. Any one of them, really. [Like he visits a mall if he doesn't have to. Ugh.] I wouldn't think finding one is too difficult for you?

[arsiento]

The way you love hearing yourself talk like that, you gonna go deaf, homie. Seems like you already on the way.

[ Diablo's tone is calm too, soft, though not in a necessarily patient way. ]

A mall's still better than some place that ain't got no security, or the business sense to hire them some so they ain't always getting knocked over all the time. Ain't no sense in that.

[restingstitchface]

[Excuse you. Yes, he loves hearing himself talk, but he doesn't need you to point it out!]

Plenty of sense in it, I'd say - if you're the type who finds advantage in learning whether places have security-

[His eyes skim over Diablo briefly.]

- or not.

[arsiento]

[ Of course. ]

Well, I ain't no burglar. [ Stated flatly. ] And I ain't stupid, either.

[ Because even if he was a burglar, that just sounds so much like a set-up. ]