Insolence From A Punk


baz_icon.gif luke_icon.gif

Scene Title Insolence From a Punk
Synopsis Luke and Baz randomly bump into each other, and Luke trash talks at Baz with not much in the way of results. But he feels better afterwards.
Date March 23, 2010

Canal Street Market

Day or night, Canal Street is busy in Chinatown. Perfumes, purses, produce, pork, and poultry are all sold side by side in busy open storefronts. One entire portion of the street is dedicated to nothing but jewelry stores catering to various price ranges. Box vendors sell all manner of sizzling foodstuffs to passing pedestrians, some of it identifiable, some of it better left unexplained. The ambiance is one of business and pleasure.

Full dark has fallen, although you can't tell due to the fact that the street is lit up as bright as day, the stereotypical chinese lanterns strung up everywhere. There's even somewhat of a crowd present despite the frigid cold and warnings, proving that NYC is indeed the City That Never Sleeps and that New Yorkers are stubborn SOBs. One of these stubborn people is Luke, dressed in a coat and likely several layers, wandering from store window to store window.

Another member who's out and about is perhaps one of the more stubborn creatures to be found in NYC, though it's not entirely by upbringing. Genetically, Sebastian St. George is Irish and grew up in New York around a lot of other Irish immigrants and those who had settled here before. There's a whole different kind of stubborn in that type of life and bloodline, and the man has proven it more than once. Thus currently dressed in a long duster with a little metal to it, just enough for the look of it, the auburn haired guy is walking with his hands stuffed down into his pockets to keep them warm. Even gloves tend to not help him, given he's prone to getting chilled first in his extremities. He looks more frustrated than anything, occasionally pausing to look into a window now and then.

Luke doesn't have that problem, heheheh. His hands can be nice and toasty whenever he wants! This is likely the main reason he's out and about, and without looking he sort've… bumps into him. "Hey, watch it." Luke eyes Baz, then snorts. Seriously, who wears dusters these days? "Matrix wannabe." he mutters.

"Only thing with pockets deep enough for my hands, brat," Sebastian replies without missing a beat, an Irish accent apparent in his rough-edged tone. "I tried to move around you. YOU watch where you're going." He shakes his head in mild disgust and steps off to one side to continue on his path.

Whoa, a challenge! Luke steps in Baz's way again, getting close and up in his face. "What's that, Paddy? Fixing on stealing something, is that why you need large pockets?" Luke has been in a bad mood lately and is itching for a nice fight.

Baz quirks up one brow at the smaller male. "No," he replies instantly, "though I bet I could put your cute little ass in one and take you home to my drummer to love and squeeze and hold like the toy you are." He lifts said hands (large ones at that) and waves them at Luke. "Will you fly away now or something? I'm not here for my health."

"So you're just freezing your dick off for no reason?" Luke snorts, crossing his arms. "I'd like to see you try." he's ready to throwdown! Actually, he unfolds his hands, holding them at his sides.

Baz rolls his eyes. "Do you happen to know of a man by the name of Hwae Min?" he countered directly. "If not, that's why I'm here. Not that it's your business. So if you know him, I'd like to find him. If you don't, then this is where we part ways."

"If he's one of the Triad goons his days are numbered." Luke smirks. "Someone's been murdering them one by one, so say goodbye to your friend." he sounds almost like he approves of the fact that people are getting murdered.

Baz frowns at Luke and rolls his shoulders. "Don't think so," he said curtly. "He's Burmese. Doesn't particularly care for China and Japan. Something about communist takeovers and the like, forcing him to be in their police force." He looked down the street once again. "Don't even know if he survived the Bomb," he admits. "Just wanted to see if maybe anyone here had seen him or heard from him. Actually, I don't think the Triad HAVE friends. Just people they've yet to screw over." He frowns again at Luke. "You really should quit assuming," he counsels mildly. "Makes an ass of you and me. Specially you."

"And spouting cliches constantly just makes an ass of you." Luke retorts, shoving at Baz. Ooh, is he starting a fight? "Quit with the lectures, old man, no one believes that shit anyway."

Baz gets a look on his face as he's shoved. It's not anger, it's mostly… confusion. "Whatever." At which point, he simply turns and begins to walk back down the street, hands going back into his pockets. "Go find a punching bag, kid. I have an old friend to find."

"Yeah, you better run." ok, so it's more like he's walking off, but hey, Luke totally faced him down and made him leave. In a much better mood, he turns around and heads off in the opposite direction. Heheheh.

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