Lackadaisical// Anzie

Things were not going as swimmingly as they usually did. A year ago and Clyde would have fleeced this lad for all the contents of his pockets and gotten away before it was noticed that something was amiss. It was probable that the slow but steady decline in his skill was because his mind was usually thinking about a certain blonde young woman instead of the task at hand. This was not a good thing because being a bad pickpocket usually meant time in the detention center as opposed to a pocket full of stuff to sell on the market. Clyde thought about attempting to get into the pocket on the other side of the lads pants for a second but eventually decided against it. The cause was lost by this point and the only thing left to do was to salvage the situation and take it somewhere else. Deflect suspicion as it were. Pulling himself up, he answered the jibes that the lad sent his way about the manner of his speech and stood up straight.


"I suppose I then cannot accept your turn of phrase as anything other than a non apologetic jab at my good nature."He took a minute to dust off his pants and check his fingernails before shrugging. "What brings a lad of reaping age into this quadrant at this time of day? Things could become equivocally worse if one is not overly careful." It was starting to look like this boy might not have that much to take and Clyde didn't want to waste time trying to rob him if that was the case. Still, he couldn't just leave him with some wordy threats after knocking him down so Clyde coughed and extended his hand for a shake. " I meant nothing by it. The label is Clyde, I live around these parts. Pray tell what I may refer to you as?"

T'was a long shot for fixing things, but Clyde hadn't stayed away from peacekeeper hands this long by not taking chances. He had to do whatever he needed to do and say whatever he needed to say to steer the conversation far away from why and how Clyde had knocked the other boy to the ground. While he waited for a response he took a good look at the lad. One could tell a lot about a person from the way they carried themselves and by the manner in which they dressed. For one, Clyde was sure that the lad was not a doctor in training nor a patient, and certainly not one of the freaks that hung around the institute of psychology. Neither did he have the look of someone addicted to morphling or any other illegal substance, so Clyde felt that this was going to be an easy enough venture. Since the boy did not seem to fall into those categories for any reasons, it was probable that he was just that. A teenager. A good mark for any pickpocket.

Lachlan. The kids name was Lachlan. It was not a name that Clyde had encountered before and thus it required rumination; or rather, the fact that Lachlan was just the latest in a long line of unsuccessful marks. True, he had managed to filch the pockets of that muscular man, but that incident couldn't really be counted as a victory, not when the only thing that that man had held in his clothes was a strip of dried meat But there were other failures before that. No, as much as Clyde attempted to ignore it, it always came back to Charlotte. Ever since the fateful day that he had met her, his skills just hadn't been the same. Why, he hadn't even verbalized a response to the lad's jibe about his age. He couldn't have been that much older than Lachlan, and as for the games? Well, The number of people that Clyde cared about could be counted on less than half a hand, and he was reasonably sure that none of them were of reaping age. Thus, they were safe. From that end at least.


There were plenty of other ways to wind up dead in district six, many of them illegal. Supposedly illegal, and not for the first time, Clyde found himself wondering about a certain person's well being. The lad asked him what he had been running from, and for the second time in a matter of a few minutes, Clyde couldn't think of a reply, choosing to stare noncommittally at the ground in thought. He knew that Lachlan hadn't meant the question in any deep philosophical way, but that was still the way that he took it. Perhaps he was running from himself; his feelings. It was quite possible that his recent inability to properly fleece people was a result of pent up emotions not going where they needed to go. It would account for how easily distracted he had been of late; of his missing focus.


Yes, that had to be it. Clyde nodded to himself and resolved to seek out Charlotte at her earliest convenience. Suddenly aware that he had simply been staring at the ground with a person in front of him for several minutes without saying anything, Clyde brightened and met the younger man's gaze with an apologetic frown. "I'm afraid I must excuse myself from this venture post haste. But thank you." As Clyde began to walk away he pulled a coin out and flicked in in Lachlan's direction. He did not pause to see if the lad caught it or not, but occupied himself with thinking that perhaps it was time for a change of pace.