Amateurs and Professionals


lola_icon.gif daryl_icon.gif koshka_icon.gif

Scene Title Amateurs and Professionals
Synopsis The teens show potential, the twentysomething offers pointers.
Date February 12, 2011


Sweet Home Alabama

Lola is skipping along in a skirt, leggings, flats and a coat. Her red hair is up in a ponytail. Headphones are in her ears, connected to a device in her hand. Few people look closely at it - it's obvious what it is, isn't it? Even if it's too big and hulky to be an ipod, and too square to be a CD player. Some sort of music device to be sure. And she's singing to it.

Where skies are so blue!

What they don't see is how she wiggles past people, how the device always seems to get close to them - purses, pockets, etc. She glances at it, occasionally. And keeps going.

Sweet home Alabama, I'm comin' home ta you!

Meanwhile, a couple of corners down: "She said that, huh?" Daryl says, hands in jacket pockets as he walks side by side with Koshka. "I think I know just how to take care of that. Follow my lead, okay?" He gestures toward a nearby store front, then switches posture, letting his shoulders droop into a put-upon stance.

Just inside the store, a short black-haired woman stands next to a cash register, addressing people cheerfully as they walk by. "You want a purse, yes? We got all brands, genuine article!" Yeah, right— they're as genuine as her accent. The merchandise moves quicker when you sound too ditzy to set good prices on it.

"S'what she said," Koshka confirms with a small shrug. "She's all about names and stuff though." She glances toward Daryl, a single brow lifting a fraction as she takes in his sudden posture change. Another shrug tugs up one shoulder before she adopts something similar, falling in behind while the boy leads the way into the store.

Blue eyes flick toward the shop keeper on entering, then Koshka turns her attention to the various styles and brands of purses. She keeps herself casual, browsing but not touching.

Lola steps past another person, and this time when she looks at the device, she smirks. She steps past some people, past Koshka and Daryl and the shopkeep between the racks in the open store. From her pocket she pulls out a de-mganitized credit card and swipes it in her device. Lights flash. She grins. YEs! Fun. That done, she looks over her shoulder, glancing around. Anything in here she wants to buy with someone else's money?

Keeping up the harried-boyfriend act, Daryl rolls his eyes at Koshka. "Just don't blow all my money, all right? I gotta go take a piss." He heads to the back, opens the bathroom door— good, it's empty. The door swings closed again, and he walks back out into the store - unseen, this time - and heads down the opposite aisle, watching carefully to make sure no one bumps into him. At the sight of Lola's rig, he raises a brow. Shit, I could use one of those things. Probably costs an arm and a leg.

For her part, Koshka rolls her eyes Daryl's scene. "I'll spend what I want," she quips back, then huffs. Men. "Not like he can stop me anyway," she further asides to the clerk, intent in keeping the woman's attention. She lifts a hand, running fingers over several handbags and clutches, reds or blacks with gold cording or silver buckles until she picks up some purple thing with gold and black embossing. "What do you think of this one?"

Lola spies the girl and walks over, peering over her shoulder as she asks some rhetorical question. "Ugly, sugar. Everythin' in here is ugly. Why'd ya wanna spend yer money on somethin' fake? Ah mean, srue it may look real, but it's still cheap, an anyone who'd care 'bout a real one could tell a fake from t'other," Lola says, pulling one of the earbuds out. She tugs the little rig into her jacket pocket, keeping her hand on it still. "Doncha wanna be the belle of the ball with somethin' fine?"

Oh, sure, if they want to spend the extra money for a real one - or someone else's, but they don't have a nifty scanner like Lola does. And the real ones have tougher security. This place, though? While the others do the talking, Daryl reaches over and grabs a little black leather number, slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket, before sneaking back to the bathroom to complete the act.

Treating Lola with a classic look of skepticism, Koshka puts the purple thing back on the shelf. "Nothing wrong with saving money and looking good," she counters. "Who cares if they're fake. You can get three for twenty dollars here. One to go with every outfit." She turns to pick out another one, more sensible than the last with simple white and gray plaid. But as she reaches, she bumps against the display and spills the wares. Which, of course, holds the clerks every patient attention.

"Oops, sorry," Koshka tells the woman, crowding backward and moving into Lola's space. "Gosh, such a clutz."

Lola smirks a little. "Clutz," she responds. "Sorry darlin, just…by the time Ah was yer age Ah was havin' mah share a the real stuff fer no cost." Because, you know. Stealing is no cost. Or daddy paid for her, perchance. With that, Lola stands up a little, looking over Koshka curiously. "Bit younger, though. Still, some of those games could still be run with a young enough looking kid."

A flush and a quick stop at the sink for good measure, and the once-again-visible Daryl stalks back out, looking to Koshka. "Yeah, and how many outfits you got, like a hundred? Three for ten and they'd still be a rip-off. Geez, let's go already." The act's not perfect, though; his lips curl up a bit as he gives Lola another quick once-over. This? Could hold real promise.

"Yeah, I could do that if I wanted." Koshka shrugs, like it totally did not matter. But she doesn't make good that statement, because right now she doesn't want to. Daryl, when he reappers is treated with a withering smile. "Please, you know you like it when I look good." Which seems very out of place, considering she's in her usual worn jeans and jacket.

"Let's go," Koshka sighs at Daryl. She turns for the door, shouldering against Lola. Cramped confines and all, and she doesn't want to step on those fabulously fake purses. Oh, but the woman might have something nifty in her pockets. "Whoop, sorry lady," she hastens to say, one hand slipping in and hopefully out again, without fully pausing her movement toward the exit.

Koshka isn't going so far as she thought! While she was able to grab a few wiped credit cards from Lola's pocket, Lola is a pro - she's been doing this since she was younger than the girl before her. With a thumb and index finger, Lola grabs Koshka's wrist, not intending to hurt, but intending to keep her hand still long enough to snatch the cards away. "Tsk tsk, little one. You have some skill but you haven't practiced enough." She smiles.

Turning in place, Daryl's expression grows hard— well, it already was, but this time there's less in the way of acting involved. "I said let's go," he repeats, shooting a glance toward the proprietor. Before Little Kim over there pulls her thumb outta her ass, he thinks to himself. He'd be happy to continue this conversation once they're safely outside.

She does need more practice. Koshka's face shadows with a scowl as her fingers wrap more tightly around those cards she's caught hold of. She directs a tiny look toward the little Asian woman, then up to Lola. Again, she turns for the door, giving a jerk on her wrist while she tries again for the exit. So not making a scene inside here.

"Hey, sugar," Lola scolds Daryl a little bit. "Doncha go yellin' at her. She kin talk ta who she wants. Swear ta hell, there ain' nothin' more annoyin' than a mouthy male." But then Koshka starts heading for the exit, and Lola just laughs. She shakes her head. Ah, children with attidutes! How like her they are! Turning, hands in her pockets and whistling the same tune, she saunters out after them, nodding her head to the Asian lady."

Sure enough, as soon as they're out of earshot, Daryl's outward mood picks right back up. "See? Told you they were too expensive," he says to Koshka, leaning closer as he takes out the black purse and presses it into her hands. "C'mon, we gotta go talk to what's-her-name before she thinks I was being an asshole 'cause of her."

Koshka takes the purse with one hand, the other quickly pushing into her pocket. She got away with one of the cards she'd snatched, time to look at it will be later. She turns the purse over, the mostly failed pickpocket attempt forgotten for the moment. "Nice. It's not Gucci, but it doesn't look… bad… Shit." The girl catches sight of Lola coming out of the store not too far behind, and quickly hides the swiped merchendise behind her back.

Lola steps outside, tilting her head to light a cigarette with a cheap bic lighter. Not a day goes by when she doesn't regret that twang of pain that cuased her to give up Kain Zarek's lighter. Zarek you S.O.B. who brought her into this life…well, nothing to be done for it now. She inhales, exhales, and motions with the cigarette as she comes up to the kids. "Oh relax," she says as Koshka goes to hide the bag. "Not like Ah'mma turn ya'll in or nothin'. Ya stole stuff from a thief anyway - s'basically what folks what knock off bags are anyway."

"Exactly. Fuck her." Not just for the low security bar did Daryl pick out that target. "Nice to meetcha," he says, slipping an arm round Koshka's waist as she accepts the newly acquired gift. "And yeah, we're not big-time like some people we know." His eyes flicker meaningfully down toward where he last saw Lola holding the credit card rig.

"Yeah well…" Koshka shrugs, trying to play casual. Lola may have said she's not turning them in, but it doesn't hurt to be a little cautious. After all, she'd told her guardian that she wasn't going to try pickpocketing again, and here she is going and doing just that. Ah well. Easier to ask forgiveness than permission, right?

"Watch your language," Lola says off-handedly to the boy. She inhales her cigarette again and then exhales it, looking over the pair of them. Considering. "Why are ya stealin' from theieves, then? There's usually a general mutual respect fer folks in the underworld. Besides, that there's worth 'bout 40 bucks. With the pair a ya, runnin' the right kinda scam, ya could be pickin' up fer real. Shit, Ah was takin' shit off the backs a trucks when Ah was younger'n you. Ya ain' runnin' a bad little thing here, though. Just…it ain' worth yer time."

Daryl rolls his eyes at Lola. "Mutual respect, huh? Well, that explains all the drive-bys. And if she wasn't too cheap to buy a camcorder, then I wouldn't be bugging her." Or at least he would have had to be a little more sneaky about it. "What do you think," he adds, looking to Koshka, "you were telling me just the other day we had to think about the future, right?" Going big-time crook would be a future, to be sure.

"Heard of honor amongst thieves," Koshka says, watching Lola. "But… things're also give and take. Sometimes people give, and other times you got to take." It's how she survived her brief time on the streets." Daryl's question earns a glance and a nod. "Need to start looking forward and figuring out how we're going to make ends meet, get jobs and stuff."

"Real thievin' is an art," Lola tells Daryl, who seems to be the one really apt to listen. The girl, it appears, will follow along. Some are like that. "It's…somethin' ya do because ya love it. Ya know folks say 'Do what ya love an ye'll never work a day in yer life? S'what theivin' should be. It ain' fer a lotta folks, but it ought ta be." Lola takes another hit off her cigarette. "And ya should love what yer doin' as much as ya should love what yer takin'. Even if it's just wallets. It should be somethin' ya relish." She smiles again. "But Ah'm old-fashioned that way. Learned it from a real old-fashioned kinda fellah, Mah daddy was."

A smirk. "Must've been a hell of a family." Daryl doesn't offer much of a reaction past that— he's slow to place any faith in this whole Standards thing, but he'll play along if it'll keep them in touch. "Anyway, I think I'm gonna take my girl here out to dinner and a movie, celebrate a little. Only so many hours in the day." Especially with the cops sweeping the streets at night, even if you aren't actually doing anything but hanging out.

Koshka frowns slightly at Lola, but remains quiet. Daryl might have the brains for planning and making things happen, but she's usually been one to observe and act when the time was right. He'd scene it during that nearly botched lift just past a streetside card game. The card she'd swiped off Lola is produced and shown briefly, then returned to her pocket. Together they'd make a worthwhile team. Giving herself a small shake, Koshka looks up at Daryl, unspoken question etched into her features. Possible, they could pursue a venture like that.

"Oh we're…an eclectic bunch, my folks is. But that ain' here nor there. Ya kin go out an celebrate yer fourty dollar lift - proper date'll cost ya more than ya earned though. Still, could use a few little runners a mah own." How else does one start an underground business? "With proper skills a course. Would take some trainin' but at the least yer sweet-faced nuff fer it," Lola says, looking at Koshka. "An yer ballsy enough fer it - maybe too much so, but still. A little team like ya could do 'nuff damage."

Daryl starts to open his mouth… then pauses. This is just what he was hoping might come out of the encounter - not just leaving each other alone, but working together on bigger and better heists - but he wasn't expecting Lola to be the first one to suggest it out loud. Honor among thieves and yadda yadda, but is she planning to give them the short end of the stick? "I figure we can work something out," he says, keeping his enthusiasm in check.

Turning her attention back to Lola, Koshka seems to voice like concerns, without actually speaking. She slips her hands into her pockets, regarding the woman in silence.

"Good, keep in touch," Lola says, flipping a hand-written number at the pair before turning to make her way off.

Once the older woman has departed, Daryl turns back, studying Koshka's expression. "Thought you said we needed to knock this stuff off at some point. You change your mind?" Not that he's about to do a whole lot of objecting if it turns out she has.

"We do," Koshka says quietly, directing a sheepish look up at Daryl and tucking the number into a pocket. "Just… kinda… we need something. For a while." She tucks the lifted purse into her jacket as she lowers her gaze, glancing sidelong in the direction Lola had gone off in.

"Yeah." Daryl stares off into the distance, falling into quiet thought for a second. Eventually, one or the other of them is going to have to budge on this issue— or they'll have to part ways, which in the teenager's mind is just flat-out unthinkable. But they should have some time to work it all out. "So… you hungry? Or you want to check out the movies first?" And will that card she yoinked be able to cover the tab?

Pickpocketing has a certain allure, a thrill that makes it harder to give up than Koshka'd thought it would be. But she doesn't want to lose Brian's respect, either. He'd given her a place to live and had seen her through some tough times besides. There's got to be a happy medium somewhere, or a way to keep the more exciting things she enjoys seperate from the more normal ones she longs for. "Let's… just go to the movies. They've got food there." Popcorn and hotdogs, but it's still edible.

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