Possible Mischief. Or not. We'll see (Micheal)

The irritating squeak had persisted for hours now, and was beginning to seriously infuriate Samuel. For the sixth time now he examined the bottom of his boot, but, like the five other times, found nothing that would indicate the origin of the ever so irksome sound. Sighing, he continued on his path, until the “squeak” resumed; having reached the limit of his tolerance to annoying noises, he promptly removed the shoe and threw it across the road.

Realizing it would be incredibly stupid to walk with only a single shoe, he removed the second of the pair, wearing only his socks now. It may have seem ludicrous to the other pedestrians, but he cared not, for it was either barefoot or psychotic breakdown at this point, and the former was by far preferable. Well, unless he had hidden paparazzi following him. Then psychotic breakdown would get him on the cover of a magazine, whereas going barefoot would result on a page three article at the most. And it is a widely known fact that the cover beats page three.

Samuel turned left onto Beverly Boulevard, half-consciously taking in the scenery of Los Angeles. He had relatives here, both paternal grandparents and a cousin, but had no desire to see them, nor had he ever acted upon any such desire. As far as he was concerned his father was his only family, and with him dead that made Sam by himself. The only reason he had come to LA was to find work, for while drifting about aimlessly was not the arduous lifestyle, neither was it the most invigorating.

A few potential jobs ran through his head-barista, fast food server, nuclear engineer. None of these would have been too fulfilling, though, as he wanted his work to truly matter in the grand scheme of things-meaning that, for him, it would most likely be highly illicit. Some would be squeamish about this, but for one who viewed the law as incompetent and controlled by corrupt fools, it was cause for little concern.

With the midafternoon sun beginning its slow descent towards the horizon, he ducked inside of small coffee shop, and waited at the back of the substantial line towards the counter.

It had been weeks since the incident happened, and nearly a week since his legs had been given back to him. Not long after that even his powers returned to him, the ethereal being had risen once again. Not that he was his typical cocky self, no, Michael was more somber than he had ever been, a rather pained individual that chose not to go out of his way to…well he still had in his mind to carve out that criminal empire, just not yet. Today was a day that he would simply enjoy himself, walking about the city of Angels and taking in the sights. Maybe visit a coffee shop and enjoy some kind of caffeinated beverage, one of them anyway and then work on things from there. Brushing the dark brown hair out of his eyes, Michael stepped out into the Los Angeles sun.

He was dressed in a simple light pink polo shirt, with a single eagle adorning it and khaki cargo shorts, ones that he had bought from the same place as the shirt.  Upon finding a coffee shop that caught his interest, Michael ducked into it and quickly took a mental note of everything around him. There were people in a long line, waiting to get their coffee and that gave him time to look over what this place served, though a chai tea was likely his chosen drink; something he picked up from the irish male. Standing ahead of him a male, another human, blond and standing a good eight inches taller than him, a handsome male to be sure but human nonetheless.

Another of the creatures around him that were prone to death and decay. ”Damn, this line is pretty long.” Michael noted out loud, yawning slightly to himself and looking to the person ahead of himself. He was bored, and did not care much if the male ahead of him responded.

Samuel turned his head slightly over his shoulder to look at the owner of the voice.   "Yeah, you'd think some people would have the sense to avoid heated beverages in this weather," he said, turning back around. By this time two people had left the line, one because he was served, the other because her obnoxious son insisted he had to use the restroom. It was her loss, for once you left the line you were banished to Judecca, or the back of the line. Whichever was closer.

Trying for a lame line, while waiting for the people in front of him to be served/die, Sam turned back around, "So, come here often?"

”People having sense? That would be a new one if they ever developed it.” Michael noted, letting his hands dig into his pocket and consider male that had answered. He was not in the least expecting the male to answer hi, but he did and that was a pleasant surprise. An amused smirk played across his lips as the line slowly got smaller, some stepping out with their whiney children and others finally placing their orders. The male asked if he came there often, and all he could do was shrug lightly. ”Not really, I guess this is my first time coming to this shop in particular, felt a little spontaneous.” Michael noted, simply enjoying the spontaneous conversation that was taking place. ”What about you? Come here often or am I not the only one?”

"Nope, first time. Never really been to LA before. Got to say, it's not what the movies make it out to be".

The line dwindled down until there were no people between Sam and the counter, and so he approached and placed his order. Within a few moments he received his coffee, black with sugar, and moved out of the way for man behind him. Slowly sipping on the coffee, he raised his brow as the other man placed his order. "So, local or visiting? If the former, how long have you been in LA; the latter, what brings you here?"

”I’m a local around here, been here for around six months now and still haven’t seen everything.” Michael admitted, playing around with the cellular phone within his right pocket as he watched the line steadily shrink. So this uy was not a local like him to the rather interesting city of Los Angeles? Something about that caught Mike’s interest, whether that be his general curiosity or just boredom the male could not tell. ”Well looks like the line picked up.” Michael said with exaggerated exasperation, stepping up and placing his order quickly. ”I want a blended Chai with a lot of whipped cream on top, thank you.” Michael said throwing out the false courtesies, letting the male order his drink and stepping out of the way. ”What about you? What brings you to LA?”

"You know, this and that. Work, mostly. There has to be some form of income, right?"

Silently sipping the coffee for a few seconds, Samuel looked up with a solemn gaze, "Hey, you look like you might have a few connections. You know anyone who can hook me up, you know, down under? Work for a spiv? El marcado negro?".

He kept the straight face for a about half a dozen seconds, before breaking our in a grin. "Seriously though, if you know of anywhere that's hiring, the info would be much appreciated."

Mike raised a single eyebrow as the male seemed to suggest something, reaching over and grabbing his drink before sipping on it lightly. He seemed like the type of person to have connections? That was a new one, considering that most people thought of him to be your usual American teenager, with a taste for pink to be sure but that was what most humans thought. His knowledge of languages did help in this however, he wanted to know if he had any connections in the black market? He did have connections within the Black market of course, considering that Michael had once held a large presence within it but that was a while ago. ”I suppose you could say I know where to find some…work.” Michael mulled over that word, playing off what one would call his charm, rolling his eyes and shrugging but all in a sort of seemingly innocent manner; sipping on the drink once more.

"Really now?" Eyes narrowing slightly,  Samuel leaned forward, "I sense a "but" coming here. Or possibly an "albeit". I much prefer "albeit", don't you? Along with "however" and "although". They are all superior to "but" ". Samuel was rambling a little, but he cared not, for the coffee seemed to have supplied him with a vast amount of energy. Hell, the entire room seemed to thrum with an intangible energy.

"Now, where did you say this "work" was, again?" He knew that the other male had not actually given a location, but it seemed common to insinuate that one had provided such information. Ah, plebeians and their strange ways. If Samuel had it his way they soon would all be under totalitarian rule.

”I wasn’t going to say anything as far as a “but” is concerned, but I suppose I just did.” Michael said rather nonchalantly, motioning with his head for the stranger to follow him before sitting down at a table that was the most isolated in the place. ”Well, unless you were totally joking about the…less savory work, I have quite a few connections, despite my harmless exterior.” Michael noted sipping on his drink. ”I mean, if you want some “honest” work like a job, I could likely find you something like that too, but I have faster ways to make easier money.” He was of course baiting the male, seeing if he would take it, and if not then Michael could always deal with him later. He did not need any police interference with what he was doing.

Samuel grinned widely at the man. "Ah, atrocious puns, how I love thee so,".  His smile faded slightly as he was led over to a table; where is this going? he wondered. Eyebrow raised, he listened as the male informed him of "dishonest" work opportunities. This wasn't something normal people, even criminals, discussed with random strangers...Then again, this person didn't exactly scream "normal".

"Alright...What exactly do you have in mind? I am up for an easy way to make money. Except prostitution. Or killing kids. I don't kill kids." Sam smiled innocently, "Unless, of course, you're a cop. In which case this is all a big joke, and I am making a political statement. Because of this, you cannot touch me or I will sue for discrimination, or some BS like that."

So he had the male interested within his own little scheme? Mike cocked his head to the side, gauging the male before he would say anything else. ”Well, within the criminal underworld, or Black Market as it was called, I was known as Hyperion a while ago. Whether you may or may not have heard of me is unimportant. I was what you would call rather successful and the reasons behind my hiatus would be better of not being spoken of.” Michael interlaced his fingers, smirking as he considered the male’s reaction. ”I am looking for regaining my following, human, metahuman or ortherwise and I am always looking for extra hands. To get started I was thinking of a simple bank robbery, nothing too high profile and something I would assume you would like in on. The pay split would be 50/50, so over all it would be fair.” Leaning back he considered the male. ”What do you say?”

Samuel contemplated it for a few moments, "Well, I don't see what it could hurt. However, I must let it be known beforehand, I have a few personal rules, and if this robbery forces me to break them we will part ways then and there, and you can keep all the money." He finished his coffee within the next few seconds, and then inquired "Alright, so, this job: when and where?"

So the male had a few rules that he would not break? Something about hat caught his curiosity, but Mike would not try to dabble too deeply into something like that, when they were likely something simple. Of course he would keep from breaking the rules, so long as the male proved useful to him, and any longer than that he would likely find himself being dealt with by Michael personally. ”The job is today actually, in a few minutes. The bank we will be frequenting is a few blocks from here, small but the money would be…considerable. So if you’re ready, we can get started with our little job.”

"OK, let's go then," Sam said, standing up from his chair. He followed the shorter man out, and they walked for a few minutes in silence. In an attempt at both small talk and gather information, Samuel asked, with a furtive glance, "What's your opinion on all of these Meta-humans, and the like?". As his question was finished, they ended up in front of the bank. It is small, Samuel thought. It was a nice beige color, with a red tile roof and green awnings over all the windows. Turning to the other male,  Sam asked "One thing before we begin: What do I call you?". As an afterthought, he added "Oh, and knowing the plan might be nice".