brazenlass:

“The world thought skateboarding was cool?” Generation A, meet Generation B, your inevitable successors. Generation B thinks you’re lame. 

Not that she had anything against skateboarding. It seemed like a fine way to get from point to point. Faster than walking, but perhaps a bit harder to control. That part didn’t confuse her, what confused her was the implication that somehow, you could have… skateboarding celebrities. She had to wonder if it was equivalent to vine stars. 

So it was just as well that the conversation shifted. Trying to understand outdated references is nobody’s idea of a fun time. Nicole stuck a napkin in her pocket, took a last, long sip from her cup, and followed him outside, blinking in the light. She stuck her hands into her back pockets and shrugged, watching the pedestrian traffic. 

“Alone, bulge in their pocket. Busy or distracted. Adults, obviously, but teens’re more likely to have cash if they have money. I dunno, I don’t think ‘bout it that much. I sorta see where the crowd goes.” She didn’t really choose– more the thief of convenience than anything. She lifted her chin to nod at a young woman walking while texting. “Multitasker over there seems good as any.”

He’s not gonna be offended, she’s not even done with puberty yet, and the X-Games haven’t exactly been relevant in a while. “You stay at my place, I’ll show you some videos–whether you like skateboarding or not.” Xander wondered if she’d read any of the underground blog posts that talked about how he always had room for someone to crash if they were on the outs for whatever reason. If not, maybe he’d make sure she saw it…later. This whole thing made him feel older than 39 and he was definitely not a fan. 

The street was decently busy, a good pick for a lift, and Xander was already casing it, everyone within his scope of vision as she spoke. She was decent, alone was good, especially for a kid, so was distracted–made it easier for whoever was doing the stealing, leaving them open for a solo lift instead of having to make friends to get some other distraction going. He looked at the woman, plenty distracted, sure, but he shook his head.

“Nope, her bag’s on too short a chain, it’s all under her arm? Way harder to get anything out of,” he looked around a bit until he saw a businessman, phone to his ear wiht one hand, briefcase in the other. “See mister Wall Street? Stay here. Watch and learn.” Xander saw him coming to a stop at the crowded intersection, waiting for the crosswalk. He got right up behind him, close as can be, dipped his hand into the man’s back pocket gently, and visibly–for Nicole–put a little pressure on the guy’s arm. Wall Street looked at his arm, then just as the light turned, he looked up and started quickly walking. X stood still. Hand in his pocket, he walked back to Nicole with a smirk. 

He slipped the wallet to her behind his hand, “Crosswalks make everything easier. Make the mark do most of the work.” 

brazenlass:

Nicole wrinkled her nose in annoyance, partly because she wanted to tell him that the key to not ending in jail was not getting caught–but partly because she saw his logic and sided with it. Annoyingly. After all, if Nicole was more confident in her ability to not get caught, she’d be eating far less from the trash. There were times when stepping over the line was an unnecessary risk. 

Still didn’t mean she’d let adulthood change her.

“I mean, I like freedom too. I also like bein’ an ass so…” She shrugged as if she’d just demonstrated a point. There you go, dilemma solved.

Her last fry disappeared into her mouth, and as she wiped her hands and chewed he earned the most blank stare. Tony Hawk? X-games? Was she supposed to know what these things were?

“Oookaaaayy…” Nicole couldn’t determine if this was a generational thing, or if his references were just that obscure. She honestly wasn’t that sure that she wanted to know. The name Tony Hawk almost sounded familiar. (Was that the golfer?)

“I think sharing time is over. You said you could teach me shit.”

Xander had been arrested plenty of times, he’d even done a couple months on the inside. Staying out of jail was a lot more complicated than just not getting caught. Sometimes? You got caught, and sometimes you had someone who could get you out of it because you made friends with the right people or happened to have some folks who were really easy to make into alibis. It wasn’t all on his own, he had a network plenty of people who could help him–or one of his friends. 

Adulthood changed people whether they wanted it to or not, but she wasn’t there yet, she’d understand eventually. “I’m just saying, when it’s between being an ass and eating, I can not be an ass until I’ve got all the food in my face.” 

Shit. He felt old. Sure, she was a kid, and the X-Games weren’t exactly the Olympics, but come on. He sighed a bit as he explained it this way, making him feel even older. “Right around when you were born, skateboarding, BMX biking and shit, it was huge, Tony Hawk was like the,” shit what was a good comparison? “The Rock, like the inventor of skateboarding, the guy who made the world think it was cool.” Jesus Christ. 

“Right,” thank god, because the age disconnect was starting to make him feel like he was almost turning 50, not 40. “Can’t rightly do it in the diner, and I got a reputation with them. Let’s go outside.” Xander waved to Carmen, who wished them both a good afternoon, and they were on the street. “How do you pick who you lift?” Once he knew her process, he could fix it, improve it. “Who looks like a good mark out here?”

brazenlass:

It was something she’d failed to contemplate before, only because she never fully expected to have a future. But his words registered, and gave her pause. He wasn’t incorrect. She’d already noticed the way opinions had been changing of her since she first ran away. A small nine-year-old on the streets was pitiable. A tall thirteen-year-old was worrisome. She got fewer sympathetic looks these days, and saw far more judgement in the expressions of the people passing by, for her dirt and bruises and the rage in her eyes.

She knew how much worse it could get, too, if she survived to adulthood. She’d seen homeless adults, she knew the stigma. 

Nicole considered him once again, this time with new knowledge under her belt. A street kid, huh?

… Well he seemed to have done very well for himself. 

“So is this one of those ‘I understand what you’re going through’ conversations? Cuz I’m wondering, why the fuck would you change just cuz the world is, an’ what convoluted fucking path did you have to take to get from here to there?”

Xander hadn’t experienced being a street kid. By the time his aunt had passed, he’d grown to six feet, and his voice had dropped straight into the goddamn basement. People were scared of him even before he started shaving his head, no matter how genuine he smiled, it was always “get away from me” or a not-so-subtle crossing the street to avoid him. He’d managed it, he’d gotten lucky. Really lucky. Someone had seen what he could do, his video went whatever the pre-youtube version of viral was, and even the pro skaters had gotten interested. 

After that, his life had gotten more than a little interesting, and then the NSA came in and had to fuck everything up. Because that’s what government agencies did best, wasn’t it? 

He smirked. “No. If I wanted to survive, I had to realize what really was and wasn’t worth it. I could’ve done a lot more shit and ended up in jail, but I kinda like freedom.” Convoluted didn’t even begin to describe it. “I still don’t know sometimes. Right place, right time, mostly. Met Tony Hawk at a skate park one day, right before the X-games took off. Stayed friends, got in with his crew,” a shrug, “I was lucky. I know most of the world ain’t that lucky.”

brazenlass:

Either he was a good liar, or he was being serious. But it wasn’t merely a bed, was it? If she accepted, she’d be putting herself in a vulnerable position. Sure, the dumpster wasn’t exactly safe, but at least it kept her sleep light. And sleeping in a dumpster didn’t in any way represent a dependence, even a partial one, on anyone, whereas somebody’s guest room or couch… 

“I’ll think about it.” Equal honesty in her reply. She would think about it. He’d grown on her, and it might be nice even for a night to get the weight of the street off of her.

She could definitely see how faking one’s death could make things difficult. She decided to go for the one most likely to annoy. “Can’t get your social security benefits, huh?” A large, teasing grin spread across her face.

It flickered at the ‘you remind me of me’ line, but Nicole was determined to survive this little heart to heart by disconnecting her heart from the equation, and so the grin was back the very next moment. “Used to, huh? Ominous. So what’s yours look like now?”

It wasn’t just a bed, no. It was a bed and a TV, a fridge, a bathroom with a shower and a tub, and an apprenticeship of sorts. Learn some tricks from the big guy who knew his way around shaking the world up and putting yourself first. All in all, it wasn’t really a bad trade-off, if he thought about it. He’d show her the security system, too, if it helped. It’d be a big change, she probably wouldn’t sleep well the first few nights. He hadn’t after he’d struck out on his own–he’d been a bit older than her, though. 

“Fair enough,” that was about as much as he could hope for right now. If she liked it one night, maybe she’d stay longer. Xander’d still help her out if she ended up leaving. “Hah, I’m not that old, half-pint,” he grinned right back, shaking his head a little. 

No connections, because they’d never hang around, he got it, how he lived his life, too, but there were a few people in the world that wouldn’t let him let go, and that’s how he ended up with his crew. “I grew up. World treats an adult on the streets a lot different than a kid. Had to change to accommodate that.” He intentionally let that bit of information slip, see if she’d catch it, Xander was pretty sure she would. 

brazenlass:

Nicole set her elbow on the table and her cheek on her fist as she looked at him somewhat curiously. She didn’t really believe what he said, about giving her a place to sleep, or an ongoing handout. But what was curious was that he offered. (The idea that he could save her would have made her laugh. She’d been on the street for four years, and she wasn’t actually that great at staying out of the way. She had the bruises to prove it.)

“That’s very Zorro.” The word meant admirable, but again there was a kind of doubtfulness in her tone. Nicole was a skeptic, because cynicism had gotten her thus far without disappointing her.

She finished her burger and went to pick on her fries, idly swiping them through the ketchup on her plate. “I used to wanna fake my death. You know, Tom Sawyer style or whatever. But then I figured it’d be easier to just leave, and just as many people would give a shit.”

She was studying him, probably trying to find that chink in the armor, that little bit of the truth that showed through, because she thought he was lying. He wasn’t, though. Four years on the street was enough for anyone, but he didn’t intend on shielding her from any bruises. Safe wasn’t in his vocabulary, but making sure she wasn’t sleeping behind a dumpster was something he could easily provide, along with a bit of training to make her a good thief, anything else if she wanted it. It wasn’t like he had a narrow set of skills. 

“Zorro,” he said, chuckling, making a Z with a couple of the fries he had left on his plate. “I don’t really do the mask thing, though.” the silence settled for a bit as he finished up his burger, stuffing the last couple of fries in his mouth. When he’d cleaned his plate, he looked right back at her with a serious expression. “I ain’t joking about having an extra bed.” It was hers if she followed him home, his only expectation that she learn what he was going to teach her. “If you want it, it’s yours.”

Xander sipped his shake, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Makes gettin’ some things a lot harder.” He didn’t say kids shouldn’t have to fake their deaths, that he’d had a singularly unique situation that forced his hand. He took note of her story, though, remembering how he’d felt that way too, he’d almost left the day his aunt had come home from the doctor with the cancer diagnosis. “You remind me a lot of me, you know that? That chip on your shoulder looks a lot like mine used to.” 

brazenlass:

She had to concede that she had jumped to conclusions a little quickly. Well, she didn’t have to, but every so often she could be honest with at least herself. Nicole let out a sigh as he denied her assumptions, but when he passed his phone over she once again narrowed her eyes at the device, before taking the time to scroll through the article. And then she backtracked, and googled the incident for more sources. Which she found, surprisingly enough.

Nicole kept the phone for a few more minutes, only barely paying attention to him as she did, indeed, google him, flipping through pages with the deft technological literacy that was a hallmark of her generation. Burger in one hand, phone in the other, establishing for herself the validity of his claims. 

They seemed… pretty valid, actually.

“Alright.” She put down the phone (leaving it beside her rather than passing it back. Just to see if he’d react.) “Guess you ain’t as full of shit as I thought. You’re pro’ly right about getting food, too, but my experience says I don’t get another hand anyway, so honestly how much do I need to care about one person’s favors? If you try to send this food back I’m gonna fight you and I will hurt you, don’t care how beefed up you are.”

“So… what? You ain’t shown up for a while, looks like. Retired? Desk job? Someone said you’re dead but I’m guessing they got confused cuz you look slightly more lively than a zombie.”

She was a skeptic. In this day in age, that was definitely a strength, not a weakness, what with fake news so easily available. While she got down to brass tacks and started googling him, Xander tucked into the rest of his meal. It had been a sort of lucky accident–for him, at least–that this was the restaurant the jackoffs decided to try and mess with. They had some of the best burgers in the whole city, and now he got ‘em for free. He still paid as often as they let him, though. When they wouldn’t take his cash, he’d stuff it in the tip jar. 

Xander managed to look almost offended, “Here I was thinkin’ about letting you sleep in the spare bed at my place and you’re threatening me,” a mocking tsk-tsk before he took a drink of his shake, really dragged out the silence before he spoke again. “You got my hand until you don’t need it anymore.” It was brash, probably a stupid idea to offer an ongoing handout to Nicole, but Xander’d seen plenty of kids grow up on the street, and maybe he could save this one from some of the darker parts of it. “I’m not sending this food back,” he chuckled. 

“Well,” he always played his life story close to the chest, especially with adults, because adults were the ones who liked to stab him in the back. “Faked my own death back in ‘05. Didn’t feel like workin’ for suits who didn’t have the same ideas for the world I did.” He’d been doing his own little Robin Hood sort of thing in between, though, all over the world. “Took my talents where I felt, helped people out when I could.” 

brazenlass:

“Oh please. I ain’t wasting computer time on you. Library only gives me an hour, an’ nobody can rely on wikipedia.” Nicole snagged the ketchup, making a neat little pile on her plate for her own fries. And then she started on her burger, speaking in-between bites without regard for manners. Most of her food stayed in her mouth.

“So lemme get this straight. You pulled that stunt to make a buck. You don’t like annoying rich fucks but your political stance goes about as far as ‘keep government outta commerce’. You were briefly famous an’ you’ve deluded yourself into thinking Russian supervillains are real. I miss anything?”

Maybe she shouldn’t be sassing the hand that fed her. But she’d managed briefly to convince herself that she found someone who could empathize with the class struggle, only to be disappointed that his rage didn’t run as deep as hers. But what could you expect? 

Fine, Wikipedia was self-editable so it wasn’t necessarily the most reliable thing on the internet. He started eating his burger, letting her run it down even though she got more than half of it wrong. She’d just met him, they were all logical jumps that made sense, they just happened to be false. 

“A lot,” he said around a mouthful of fries. “All the tricks I did made me money, but that ain’t why I did ‘em,” Xander’s whipping the phone back and doing a quick search for Anarchy99 and the bio-terrorist lot he’d almost single-handedly thwarted. “My politics are a lot more complicated than that, I was famous more than ‘briefly’, and–” as he said that, he slid the phone back to her, there was an article, with the title “Prague Saved from Near-Fatal Terrorist Gassing,” and a picture of his face, along with a shot of him  parasailing off the weapon. “Russian bio-terrorists who almost killed the whole city. Pretty super villainy to me.” 

His issues with the class struggle were plentiful, and not something he often discussed, but he also had managed to carve himself out a nice spot in, he supposed, the upper-middle class, considering Xander’d been legally dead for almost fifteen years and lived off the grid. “I could send the food back,” he wouldn’t. “Look, the streets are rough, I ain’t arguing that.” but? There was a but. “Insulting the hand that feeds you’s a good way to not get another hand next time.” 

brazenlass:

Nicole might have had an interest in anarchy, but she’d never paid much attention to sports. ‘Triple X’ meant nothing to her, and certainly she had no reference for this tattoo he mentioned. Nicole looked at him like he was crazy. (The video she’d seen was titled “Man steals senator’s car– you won’t BELIEVE what he does”. Not a lot of room for brand endorsement.)

“What? No! Who gives a shit about your tattoos? X… whatever. By the way, Xander-zoned? Cheesiest fucking thing ever, an’ I saw Batman and Robin. You know, with Arnold Schwartzewhosit?” But now she was scooting forward in her seat, because despite her dismissal she was interested. 

“Okay but that thing, that was real? An’ I don’t mean real like a legit stunt I mean real like you actually stole a politician’s car? Did he get you back? Did you go to jail? Do you really care so much about video games? How fucking crazy do you have to be?”

Right. He was old(to her). He’d pulled that Senator’s car stunt a couple years before she was even born. Plenty of people knew who Xander Cage was, but his heyday of making money off those videos–before YouTube–was long gone. But Xander had never really had to give this sort of a speech before. It made him feel old, which annoyed him. 

“When I was doing that shit, my tattoo was my trademark,” he explained, completely ignoring the whole Batman and Robin line. “I made good money selling that video, and others, too, doing other shit to those bureaucratic suits, to boardroom billionaires that steal money from good folks who don’t deserve it.” 

“Listen,” Xander said, “Yeah, I stole Dick’s car. Got a get out of jail free card from the NSA if I helped them take down a Russian supervillain,” Okay so Yorgi wasn’t a super villain, but he basically was. “In 2002? Video games were under a lotta fire, they were thinkin’ of age restricting them like cigarettes,” an exaggeration, “I care about people who think they can control what people are allowed to consume. That’s not their choice up in the capital.” Their burgers came, and X started foraging through his fries. “That ain’t the only thing I’ve done, you can google me, I’ve got a wikipedia page.” He still didn’t take that seriously, thought it was ridiculous, but it did have a good explanation of his history. Shame, considering they still thought he died a couple years after he took down Anarchy99. They missed all the best stuff. 

brazenlass:

Nicole narrowed her eyes briefly at Carmen’s retreating back. ‘Sweetheart’. Of course, she initially grew up in the south, and she did recognize terms of endearment didn’t necessarily have to be personal. It still wasn’t her favorite nickname. (Someone had called her hellspawn once. That one stuck in memory.)

As the phone slid over, she pulled it towards her to watch. A second or so in, and she recognized it. Of course she did– it had gone viral. But now she had to squint at the face, because the lighting wasn’t ideal but he definitely resembled…

Eyes flicked up to him, back to the video. Up, back. When it finished, she rewound, paused it, and held it up so she could look at both. And then she set the phone back on the table and shoved it at him.

“No way. No way! No. fucking. way. You’re fucking shitting me. You are absolutely, one hundred percent full of shit.”

Carmen was one of those people who adopted everyone who walked in the doors as her child. She grew on people, but sometimes it took a little while. Xander didn’t mind, of course, he’d long-since grown used to that strange feeling of knowing he was a grown man, but feeling like a little kid on his birthday when she set food in front of him. 

And there it was. There was the reaction he was looking for. He checked what expression she’d frozen on and made the same one, then continued a little bit of the speech, just how he’d done it 15 years ago. “Come on, Dick…that’s the only education we got.” 

He laughed, an actual full on, not hiding anything laugh. “What, you want me to go outside and free-climb up the building to prove it?” He would, honestly, if she said yes. Not because he wanted to necessarily prove himself, but because why not? He hadn’t climbed a building in a while. If she knew about that one, she knew about “Triple X,” so he smirked. “You wanna see the tattoo?” His trademark, on the back of his neck. Sure, other people could have gotten it, too, but he got it first, it was his. It was him.