ArchivedLogs:No Trouble

No Trouble
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Jax, Rasheed	2015-10-03 "Oh. Oh, thank god, we're being /robbed/." (Part of Amped TP.) (Followed by discussing Rasheed.)
Location <NYC> Upper West Side
One of the greenest parts of the grey iron and steel of New York City, it is not merely the proximity to Central Park that makes this neighborhood of Manhattan so. Trees and small parks are scattered throughout the neighborhood, as well as memorials and pedestrian-only streets. There are many theatres in the neighborhood, second only to Times Square and the museum mile in its cultural offerings. At night, the streets of New York around the Broadway theatres can quickly turn from relatively quiet wide open spaces to mobs full of people, depending on the shows in the buildings along it. When shows let out - or queue up - theatregoers crowd it to capacity, stepping into the street and restricting traffic. When all the curtains have risen, the streets and sidewalks tend towards empty - though, as with most streets in New York, they rarely are /totally/ empty. Stepping along in a crowd with an umbrella overhead, Iolaus walks close by his friend, talking animatedly but in a low tone. "I mean, jesus. And I thought he was amazing in Pippin. Christ, Rasheed. A man could very easily go broke watching him." Iolaus shakes his head, a smile quirking his lips. "I'm sure many have." "Watching him." There's a hint of a laugh that accompanies this. Rasheed has his hands tucked into the pockets of his trenchcoat, his shoulders hunched beneath the coat as he sticks close to Iolaus's side. "/Still/ cheaper than the alternative." A lightly teasing note trickles through his voice. "You aren't wrong, though. I was not sure what to expect, but that was -- a delight." Not far behind the pair, Jax is umbrella-free. Dressed in a metallic silver jacket, asymmetrically buttoned, and black skinny jeans tucked into tall stompy silver-trimmed black boots, sunglasses on despite the rain, his usual brightly coloured hair toned down to just black with a faint fringe of dark purple at its tips, he's not quite as eye-catching as usual. No hunch in his shoulders, he's just checking his phone briefly before slipping it back into his pockets and following after the other men. Quieter. If he has opinions on Lucien's play he keeps them to himself. "No question there." Iolaus grins at his friend, bumping his shoulder against the other man lightly. "You should know, especially, considering how often you pick up the check for the alternative." Iolaus chuckles and winks at Rasheed, raising the umbrella to let a taller man pass by underneath before lowering it to cover both him and Rasheed. "It really was. It was..." Iolaus shakes his head. "It defies description." Rasheed's hint of laugh blossoms into an actual one, here, exhaled quietly after Iolaus's chuckle. "Good enough I'll likely go again. I think my sister would enjoy it immensely." He digs into his pocket for his phone as well, checking the time as he pauses at a street corner. Glances up the mostly empty street with a small frown -- no taxis -- and then down the quiet cross street, contemplative. "Are you hungry? I suppose I'd just as soon go back and order, in this weather. Mmm." Hem, haw. A little indecisive. Jax comes to a halt a few paces behind the others, when Rasheed stops at the crosswalk. His hands fold behind his back, a faintly restless fidget in his posture. Rocking up onto his toes, shifting back down onto his heels. His head tips back, the rain splattering droplets against the mirrored lenses of his glasses. There's a sudden shift in the rain -- coming in heavily sideways, now, slanting in past the shelter of Iolaus's umbrella in an abrupt change of direction to soak the older men. There should probably be a gust of wind accompanying, to account for the change -- though Iolaus's umbrella remains oddly un-tugged, steady enough overhead. "I could certainly eat," Iolaus says, glancing down to his watch and frowning at it for a moment. "Though the weather is certainly not particularly suited for much but huddling inside at home." Iolaus frowns, angling the umbrella to one side to try and shield them from the sideways rain, to only a moderate amount of success. "Fucking hell," Iolaus mutters under his breath in Greek. "Inside somewhere, I think, would be very preferable." "Do you have a preference, Jackson?" Rasheed glances back over his shoulder, frowning as well at the sudden deluge. A shiver passes through him. "Definitely inside." His eyes turn down to his phone, body angling to try and shield it from the water as he swipes at its screen. "Either way I'm getting an Uber. I don't see a free cab anywhere." Jax's fidgeting settles, his arms curling tightly around his chest. A small frown pulls his brows inward, his gaze staying tipped upward for a moment before he looks back over his shoulder instead. Then down the street one way, and the other. The direct question draws his attention back to Rasheed with a small start and a hint of surprise in his tone: "Me? Oh. I um -- n -- I'm not really hungry. It's -- whatever you guys want is fine." The rain drives down harder, briefly. Briefly. Then suddenly /colder/ -- quite rapidly, the now rather sodden-through pants of the three men starting to freeze solid and hard around them, the fabric stiffening as the water in it freezes. A lean brown-skinned woman, stringy dark hair pulled back in a short stub of ponytail at the nape of her neck, steps out from around the streetcorner nearby, looking them up and down and over. She's soon followed by another person, shorter, heavyset, a scruffy mop of orangey-red hair and a wealth of freckles dusted across their wide-eyed face. "Wallets," the carrot-top says, holding a hand out with a beckoning gesture. "And like quick, yeah?" Iolaus shivers and makes a groaning sound in the back of his throat as the rain turns cold. "Fuck, it's only October. What is this shit?" The approach of the two people causes Iolaus to pause and blink, his head tilting slightly to the side. He clutches the umbrella a little bit tighter with one hand, holding his other one up in an open gesture. "Easy there, easy. We don't want trouble." Iolaus eyes the two, eyes flicking over their faces. "Here," Iolaus says, reaching down into his pocket and, after fiddling for a moment, comes up with his wallet that he holds outstretched to the other man. Rasheed pauses as he's -- quite literally -- frozen in place. The ice around his slacks crackles with his brief attempt at moving, and then he stands still, fingers tightening around his phone. "W... wallets?" This gets a slight widening of his eyes, a startled puff of breath. It sounds oddly relieved. "Oh. Oh, thank god, we're being /robbed/." His eyes dip down to his phone very briefly, hand lowering to his side with it even as his other hand moves to pat at his pockets. The water around Jax is already starting to steam, resisting properly freezing as instead it starts to evaporate off him. He doesn't move otherwise, though. There's a very -- very -- brief moment where the air around him faintly blurs, slightly distorted in the rain before it evens out. Above his sunglasses, his brows have creased very faintly as he slips his wallet out of his back pocket. Holds it out on an open palm. "Damn right you don't." The woman snaps, eyes trained uncomfortably on Iolaus and ticking, quick and restless, to Rasheed intermittently. The redhead takes a half-step forward, but no closer. Iolaus's wallet and Jax's both fly off their hands -- kind of /thudding/ into the other person's chest before the lift an arm to clumsily catch the wallets before they fall to the ground. They're watching Rasheed now, though. Frowning. With a rather painful abruptness, Rasheed's phone-holding hand jerks up, wrist twisting painfully outwards. "What -- what's that who are you -- did you /call/ someone did he --" Iolaus looks over the two robbers and frowns slightly. "Hey, easy. You wanted our wallets; you got our wallets. You want our phones too? You can take our phones. My phone is in my pocket. I'll get it for you if you want," Iolaus says, a note of uncertainty in his voice. He glances beside him to Rasheed, and then slightly backwards towards Jax. "Just tell me what to do." A sharp gasp escapes Rasheed as his arm is wrenched. His teeth clench, his eyes wider as he groans. His fingers curl tighter, reflexively. His other hand stops reaching for his pocket -- starts reaching for it again -- drops back, empty, to his side. "I was just getting -- you asked for our wallets, I was only. Getting --" Instinctively, his head turns towards Jax as well. "Hey --" Jax starts to speak up, but then quiets. A small tension tightens his shoulders, his breath pulled in quickly. The other men's glances are reflected in his glasses. He watches the jerk of Rasheed's arm, his jaw setting and his fingers curling by his sides. "Don't want no trouble, y'all." His voice is quiet, his weight shifting just a touch closer to Iolaus. The two exchange a glance, swift and uncertain. "Stay where you /are/," the woman cautions, as her partner interjects: "Why are you both looking at -- oh my god, is that." A sudden dawning comprehension startles their tone into a higher note of surprise. "Oh fuck oh fuck. Do you know who that -- do you /know/ who that -- oh fuck. Oh fuck whodidyoucall oh --" Rasheed's phone gets jerked out of his hand; with a harder /shove/ the older doctor goes flying, too, pushed back hard against the nearest building wall. There's a tug-tug-tug from the pocket he had been reaching for, his wallet taking a moment to work its way out before it joins the others. The other woman is narrowing her eyes -- first at Jax, with her partner's surprise -- then at Iolaus and Rasheed. Nearby them some of the rain is congealing into sharp spikes of ice, hovering in the air near where Rasheed has been sent flying. "-- /Fuck/," she hisses, under her breath. "Rasheed!" Iolaus turns and dashes over to the side of his friend, kneeling down by his side. "Rasheed, are you alright?" Iolaus asks, one hand extending to press against the other doctor's chest as he cranes his neck this way and that. Angling his body slightly to face further away from the two muggers as he looks over Rasheed. "Easy, don't move. You might have hit your head." Iolaus looks into Rasheed's eyes, his own flicking back and forth between the older man's. "Concussion?" It is a question. Rasheed swats Iolaus's hand away somewhat irritably, body tense and eyes narrowing. "... idiot." It's muttered below his breath, his shoulders slumped and head bowing as he sinks down against the wet bricks, wet concrete. For a moment, Jax stays where he is. His head bows further, his breath slowing as the muggers grow more agitated. His teeth press down against his lip, fingers clenching tighter as the shards of ice form. His head turns very slightly to one side. Until Iolaus darts in, at least, and then /he/ hisses something low under his breath. The drops of rain still falling on him begin to steam. Around the shards of ice aimed at Rasheed, the air glows suddenly bright, the ice turning to water and then hissing as it evaporates. "I told you we don't want no trouble. Still mean that. Y'all maybe want t'get gone." The woman's lips pinch tighter. She flinches as the rain starts to evaporate, lifting a hand to gather more water into a ball above her palm. Her companion frowns. "You /know/ who that /is/, right? /Fuck/. He could -- he could --" "Shit." Whatever tension was holding the water in place releases; it splashes down to the ground in a splatter. The woman stares at Jax a long moment, fists clenching. Then thwaps her partner on the shoulder. "C'mon." With a jerk of her head she gestures down the street, starting to take off at a run. The younger of the two lingers only a moment longer. Kind of staring at Jax -- but then turning, wallets still held tight against their chest, to race after the woman. Iolaus squeezes Rasheed's shoulder, once, and straightens up to stand. "You're famous." Iolaus says to Jax, taking a step towards the artist and flashing a bright smile. "A smile is enough to make evildoers flee before you." Iolaus grins as he - slowly - reaches out to squeeze Jax's shoulder, feeling for heat every inch of the way. "I gotta say, Sunshine, it's not the impulse /I/ get when I see you smile, but, I guess it only works on criminals." Rasheed exhales slowly, rubbing a wet hand against his eyes as the muggers flee. "Looks like sometimes your reputation comes in handy." His words come out a little choppy, still slightly catching his breath as he stands. "... I'm thinking. Perhaps. Inside. And dinner, now." Jax curls an arm around his chest. His head tips back down, shaded gaze fixing on the ground and not the two doctors. His fingers clench around his upper arm. "Yeah." Quietly. "Y'all should get in."