The Post-Apocalyptic Doughnut Thief

[ablacksun]

Nothing in Antillioch is clean. Or tidy. Or not covered in a thick layer of desert. Which is why the appearance of a pristine white door that may well lead to some spiffed-up futuristic hospital ward is something of a shock to Zack. There follows a brief consultation with his brother, who doesn't seem to want anything to do with it, as it's so ..spotless, and white, and... ewww. For the two hellgods it's completely out of place and worse. They're so attuned to their hell dimension that anything this hygienic sits in the craw like a stuck fishbone.

Abe, casually examining his fingernails, suggests Zack tries the handle, just, you know, to see if it's locked. We don't want anything pleasant coming in. Stupidly, Zack's curiosity wins over and he does actually open the door a crack... Abe swiftly shoves him straight though it, and the Apocalyptic prince is sent sprawling. He literally faceplants into this new, uncomfortably pure environment.

He's ended up on the main plaza, and lifts his head, not liking anything he sees. But that's Zack all over. He doesn't like anything much. He even snarls at the few unfortunate people closest to him.

Nothing about the Nexus feels comfortable to Zack. Not until he smells something drifting across the plaza. He follows the scent until he comes to a doughnut stand.

Zack is the embodiment of the post-apocalyptic hellscape. He's on nodding terms with all four horsemen, and his own essence combines War, Famine, Pestilence and Death.. or more accurately the after-effects of such things. Away from his own dimension, he feels the hunger of famine, and Zack hasn't actually ingested anything for centuries.

Now he's in the realm of the living, these soft little dough things smell amazing.

He grabs one and tears into it, ignoring the stallholders protests about something like paying, or money, or something. When the stallholder tries to physically take his arm, Zack pulls away, swipes another of the sweet dough shapes, and wrenches himself away from the stand. Zack moves through the crowds away from the still-shouting stalholder, almost bumping into everyone - he's not used to crowds.

And he doesn't understand the concept of theft.

He almost sends some poor person tumbling as he tries to make his exit. But he can't find the infernal door and that stupid sweet-dough-thing person is still on his tail. Zack grabs the nearest passerby by the lapel, demanding... “What's his fucking problem? What the fuck's money? What does that even mean?”


[ooc: Cue argument between your muse, Zack, and the doughnut seller. Mun apologises for his language and behaviour. He's not housebroken yet...]

Comments

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer has a thing for sweets, or rather his partner does and he is on his way to the newest donut stall. That is when it happens, someone runs headlong into him with a screaming man on his tail.

On instinct all four of Lucifer's wings open to kept his balance, fire briefly rippling across them from his annoyance. His eyes drop to the grip on the lapels of his slim fit black suit. Eyes flickering up to the angry person, the food and then the question; Lucifer gets the idea that this person comes from a culture without money. Humanity has had many of them through the centuries.

"Money is an object of agreed worth that is traded for goods or services to compensate the person doing the work." It was a simplistic but clear definition of money in the angel's estimation. His eyes come down to the hands on him, then the man who is a half foot shorter than him. "Remove your hands."

The voice holds authority as he closes his wings. There's no reason to grab him while asking a question.

[chiaro_oscuro]

Ben knows that there are people poor and desperate enough that the concept of paying for things is a luxury. He's startled when the man grips his collar, but he keeps his cool.

"Money's...how do I explain this..." He wrenches himself free, dusting himself off. "It's something we decided had value collectively. Money's given in exchange for goods and services, a trade for their time and work. In most cultures stealing is not socially acceptable."

"If you want, I can pay for some food." Ben had a good day and he's not hungry, and he can guess that this person needs it more than him. "And what you took, so there's no trouble between you and the storekeeper."

[has_a_phd_in_teddybear]

Dean had been making his way to doughy-goodness when he'd seen the guy just grab one and run. An eyeroll to himself later, and he was weaving his way through the crowd, managing to edge ahead of the stall holder and as he caught up to the guy- he grabs his jacket. Okay, first off? rude. He raises his hands non-threateningly, using his eyes to gauge the guy and try to get a read on him, ready to attempt to break the hold if he needed to. His pulse quickens at the thought of a possible fight, but he mentally stamps on it. "Woah, hey. If you're gonna get handsy the least you could do is buy me a drink first."

Dean very deliberately turns his head towards the guy headed their way, an unimpressed look on his face. "Money's what's gonna get that ass off your tail. And when you let me go?" Note the when, not if. "I can pay up for you and maybe explain some things. Well, best as I know 'em."

[sonof_mogh]

Worf had heard the commotion coming from where the donut seller was and immediately intervened since this was his years of being head of security coming into play now. Frowning deeply, the Klingon noticed the donut seller's plight and saw how angry he was. Then, the new stranger was pulling on the end of his Klingon tunic, demanding and shouting. Worf wrenched his clothes free and grabbed onto the man's arm, almost growling. He hated it when people touched him, especially demanding strangers who happened to be a thief.

"You stole? Then, you are a theif! Unhand me or I will cut your hand off myself."

The Klingon growled and then withdrew one of hie Mek'leth blades from inside the back of his tunic. This man was not from here but that did not mean he had the right to steal. Worf hated thieves since that was the most dishonourable thing anyone could be. A coward.

"Give back the food you stole. Here in the Nexus, you use your PINpoint to pay for items. You should have one. Do this now."

Worf's tone was stern and his deep voice powerful. Not to mention the guy was over 6'4" and made of muscle. He was in no mood for dealing with thieves, not today.

[eumenis]

The woman he's grabbed is on the tall side and dressed like she could potentially have stepped through his own gateway. Which she hasn't, but the Wasteland she comes from is pretty rough. As such, she doesn't flinch at the grip, but the way she goes very still and gives him a steely look speaks worlds of displeasure. He has his hands on the buckled strap that holds on the shoulderpad of her left arm prosthesis. This is Not On.

She raises said left arm, clicking the metal claws together twice, quietly, and raises an eyebrow at the doughnut vendor. "Money is a losing battle most of the people here are still fighting," she says.

And then, to the vendor: "You seem to have more balls than sense. You're going to leave your whole stall to chase down one thief? If he has a partner they could already have taken everything valuable you have."

She's not above paying for two doughnuts for the sake of peace and quiet, but she's not ready to offer that yet, either. In the meantime, though, and more importantly:

"You want to get your hands off me before I decide to enforce my personal space bubble."

[candysgirl]

He grabs an impossibly frail woman, wrinkling her perfectly tailored pink jacket.

“Money is a currency.” She smiles, after a brief moment of surprise “You are supposed to exchange that for goods and services, such as what you’re eating”

Her words are gentle and kind and calm as she tries to free her lapel. Her words and demeanor, however, don’t seem to fit the darkness surrounding her, it doesn’t hide the death and destruction she tends to leave in her footsteps.

“What currency are you used to dealing in?”

[higginbottom]

Esther lets out a small shriek as she's grabbed, her eyes wide with fright.

"Oh my God, why are you being so vulgar?" she asks, in a not-entirely-polite way. The tall blonde is more than a bit miffed at being accosted in such a way, and as she frees herself from his grip, she pouts moodily.

"Money is something used to buy goods and services. How did you get so far in life without knowing that?"

She turns towards the doughnut seller's stand, pointing in that direction.

"You need to go and apologize to them," Esther insists.

(ooc: I'm...I'm so sorry for her attitude. XD)

[tieflingtarot]

For someone from a post-apocalyptic hellscape, Molly is a veritable kaleidoscope of color, even ignoring the fact of his obnoxiously decorated coat, from the tattoos, to the decorations he wore on his horns, to the red of his eyes, to the purple skin. He was, at the moment minding his own business, when a stranger, scruffy and grubby grabs him by the front of his jacket.

Molly glances between the stranger, with the pastry crumbs on his hands, and the seller running this way, shouting his protests.

He should likely just smooth things over. Pass the vendor a silver or two, it was the decent thing to do-

But the tiefling was also more than a little bit high right then, and so instead his gaze lit in a way that anyone who knew him would know meant he'd seized on a truly stupid idea, face splitting to a bright, fangy grin as he grabbed Zack by one of his hands, entirely unconcerned by the sticky mess on it as he spun on a heel with a swing of his coat and tail, off like a shot away, with a wild cackle. "Come on, keep up!"

He'd likely come drop some coin off for the poor doughnut seller later once he was a bit more sober, but for now he just wanted to run and this seemed like a great way to do it.

[itmeanstruth]

And here, Minoru thought his shift last night at the hospital had been crazy. All he’d planned on doing was picking up donuts on the way home to surprise Isamu, but instead, he’d walked into something even crazier. Like a starving man stuffing his face with a donut and multiple people screaming about money...

“Easy... easy there.” Minoru’s hands went up after being grabbed. He wasn’t afraid of the stranger, but his heart certainly went out to him. “It’s okay. I got this.”

He shouted over to the vendor, “Can I get a mixed dozen? Whatever’s fresh this morning! And ring me up for whatever he had too!”

Having been a resident (and earning a steady paycheck) here for the better part of the last year, Minoru even had Nexus-specific currency now.

[soundwave_ascendant]

Soundwave almost doesn't notice that someone's trying to grab him, because he isn't mass-displaced at all right now. He supposes he's a decent choice to hide behind, given that he's much larger than either the person who's grabbing his leg or the person who's running after them.

It doesn't take him long to assess the situation, though.

"Stop," he tells the merchant. "Query: do you wish to lose the value of two pastries, or do you wish to lose whatever else people might choose to take from your open stall, plus the respect of those who value life more than profit? This person is a refugee, and starving."

He looks down at the thief. "Where did you come from, and who are you running from?"