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Sasha seemed to spend an awful lot of time rummaging through garbage. The dog was growling bad-temperedly as he knocked can after can over, finding little of interest to his rumbling stomach in any of them, and getting yelled at by humans leaning out of windows at several of them. Well, maybe noisily knocking over metal cans  in the middle of the night wasn't his best idea, but in all honesty he was fed up and in no mood to try and cater to humans' fussy sleeping habits. Why did they insist on sleeping all night? Sure, he slept a lot... but in short bursts, often waking up to check his surroundings. He never slept several hours at a time. It just wasn't safe, or normal, at least in his opinion.

His ears flattened irritably as he stalked to the next can, sniffing around at its lid before flinging it over with a shove of his shoulder. The can hit the ground thunderously, the sound echoing down the street as so many others already had, but Sasha ignored the sound, already focused on sniffing at what was inside, his lip curling at the stench of old garbage. Perhaps instead of hunting for human trash to eat, he would have been better off scrounging around the restaurants for rats. But rats fought back, and Sasha was wary of injuries that could become infected... besides, rats also carried fleas and Sasha was tired of having to find mint to roll in to chase off those itchy little pests. He had tried garlic once, but found the stench repugnant enough to prevent him from ever trying that again, though the mint could be just as headache-inducing. He wasn't even sure if they actually worked, but it was better than nothing at least.

Sighing, he stuck his head further into the bin, ignoring everything outside in his quest for food, trusting his instincts to alert him to anyone who could be creeping up with bad intentions.

@deacon

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Deacon was just relaxing at home after a long day. Beer in hand as he laid on the couch with one foot on the small table and watching whatever bullshit show he clicked on one of the streaming devices. After a long day of riding around, scouting for the MC and getting things set up on the repairshop -- and at home after moving out to town, all his energies were drained. A normal person would have been asleep now, but the night is still young and it wouldn't feel right to just lay down.

Pausing the TV and making his way towards the kitchen he went straight for the fridge, opening the door as he took a good glance inside, fighting off his instincts to make it a microwave pizza and cheap beer night. Instead he picks up a packet of meat, its nothing too fancy but its not the cheapest meat. He was saving this for a BBQ, or for one of the random food recipes he sees on one of those short videos on the internet.  Deacon took some joy in cooking, brought back some good memories. Despite being a snack and beer kind of guy, its good to get a homecooked meal in once in a while. The dish of the day was fried rice with a well seasoned cut of meat, medium rare and pretty damn juicy. Made two servings as he planned on saving some for later.

As he was rummaging around after his small 'feast', searching for a container for the second portion of rice and meat he hears some noises outside, looking through the blinders on the windows and seeing a dog rummaging through his trash, and making a lot of noise while at it. Initially he would just go about the rest of his night, but he knows the dog isn't going to find much on his trash. He has moved out recently and isn't one to waste food. That poor dog would be lucky to find a few bites of pizza or noodles.

"Fuck it, who eats fried rice for breakfast anyway?" He thinks to himself. Putting the meat and rice on a paperplate and heading outside to leave it for the dog. He was barefoot, wearing torn jeans and jeans jacket, his hair was slicked back, all that was missing was his sunglasses. Making his way outside he doesn't approach the dog initially, he knows better than to disturb an animal looking for food. Instead he kneeled at the ground and placed the paper plate down, getting up and stuffing his hands on his pockets as he concentrated on using his Geokinesis to make the dirt under the plate move, delivering the plate towards the dog.

"I bet you ten bucks that whatever you're going to find there isn't better than what's on that plate. Help yourself." He says with a smile, pulling a pack of ciggarets from his pocket and bringing one close to his lips, snapping his finger as a small electric current lit up his cig. It was a small but noticiable use of his powers. For the moment he enjoys the view of the city at night, looking over his neighbourhood as one hand returned to his pocket and one went to hold the cig.

"Its a crazy life, isn't boy? Going where the wind takes you, hunting for your next meal, being the outcast, having no place to really call home. Guess I live a bit of a dog's life myself." He talks to the dog as if he was talking to someone else. But in truth he is talking to himself. Animals are one thing humans can always rely on. After all they're not going to reveal your deepest secrets and insecurities. They're not talkative but they're great listeners. 


@sasha

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Another wasted search it seemed, as Sasha withdrew from the bin with an irritated growl. As he did, he sensed movement and spun to see a human placing a plate of food on the ground. His eye narrowed suspiciously. What was this human planning? And then the plate moved, seemingly on its own. No. Not on its own. The ground was moving, pushing the plate closer to Sasha. The dog gave a wary growl, backing away from the sight, startled by the brazen display of powers in the open. The last Gifted he had encountered... well, it hadn't been an enjoyable experience. But unlike Metal-Leader, this human seemed unaware of Sasha's own abilities, instead focusing on lighting up one of those foul-smelling things... using another display of power as he did.

Sasha waited a heartbeat longer to see what the human would do before hunger won out and he approached the plate, snapping up the meat and rice ravenously. Cooked meat wasn't particularly to his tastes - he much preferred raw, preferably freshly killed - but to his hungry stomach it was a delicacy. As he ate, he listened to the human's words and relaxed further as he realized this human definitely didn't know Sasha had a power too. His ear flicked briefly at the words spoken. He had a home, though it wasn't comparable to what most humans would call 'home'. He had a territory, with a den behind a small restaurant that occasionally threw out wasted food. It was a hard-won territory too, stolen from the same dog who had taken Sasha's eye. Still, Sasha could relate to the need to wander. Despite having his own territory he often ranged beyond his borders; in fact, he had done so tonight, and should have probably been considerably more cautious considering this street could well belong to another animal... stray or otherwise. But Sasha was confident in his ability to handle any animal threats. He was stronger than he looked, and having the smarts of a human helped give him the edge in many confrontations.

His tongue hit the paper of the plate and he used his paw to hold the plate still, claws nearly digging holes into it as he tried to lick up every last grain of rice, every dribble of juice. Like many strays he had a deep-rooted instinct to eat his food as quickly as possible, to avoid another trying to steal it from him. Satisfied he had managed to eat everything offered, he raised his head and gave a soft woof of gratitude to the human. He had to admit, he felt conflicted. He had come across Gifted he never wished to meet again in his lifetime. But here was one being friendly, and, to Sasha at least, clearly in need of some companionship.

With a small huff to himself he decided to throw his pride to the wind and inched closer to the human, sitting beside him. He'd never let Metal-Leader see him like this, acting almost like a pet to a human, but this human, a human who seemed to need someone to talk to, he could show his gentler side to, for now at least.

@deacon

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Deacon looked around the neighbourhood as the dog enjoyed his meal. More out of habit than anything, this was a safe neighbourhood and he had nothing to fear, but someone in his line of work has to learn this habit of checking their surroundings constantly. It was a beautiful night, streets were mostly empty as people are either at home or enjoying the night life somewhere else.

An amused smirk appeared on his lips as he withdrew the cig, letting out a bit of smoke as he observed the city's lights, one hand still on his pocket. Switching his gaze to the hand holding the cigarette he lightly taps on it letting the ashes fall on the floor. "All that is missing now is a trailer behind my back and a beer can in hand." He commented, knowing that his life wasn't taking the best turn at the moment, but it could still be worse.

As the dog sat besides him he let out a side smile, it isn't as often that a wild animal trusts someone enough to go anywhere closer to a human, even after they had fed them. Deacon understands them, living on the streets and having to watch your back from other animals and big bad grumpy humans must be tough. At least he only deals with grumpy humans on the repair shop.

"I often think that there could be more to life. Perhaps I could go to school, or go legit as a mechanic... But I guess I like this dog's life, or I'm so used to living hand to mouth that I can't think of any other way." Deacon kept talking to the dog, he felt safe talking to animals as they couldn't use his weaknesses against him, and in a way in his life he mostly could only rely on his pets.

"Or maybe that is all there is to life, strumbling along and making it up as we go... I guess I wanted some answers, but who has them? Sometimes we have to just pull the trigger, looking back now things seems clear, but as we are experiencing them, living them, nothing is clear. Only after its over, so I guess its not over yet." He continues on rambling. Putting out his cigarette before tossing it at the garbage bin.

"You know, had a dog just like you. Wasn't the talkative type too. Good listener, was basically part of my family. The only guy in my family I could rely I'll tell you what."


@sasha

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The scent of the cigarette caught in Sasha's nose, making him sneeze, and he abruptly pulled away again to avoid it happening again with a brief growl to show his displeasure at it. Why humans insisted on breathing such weird, stinky things was beyond him, but hey, they could do as they wanted so long as it didn't affect him. The human continued to talk, and Sasha carefully moved to stand on his other side where the smelly cigarette smoke wouldn't reach him so easily, sitting down again and looking up at the man with a calm, intelligent gaze.

Being a stray isn't so bad, he wanted to say. We have freedom. We go where we please. Do as we like, with nobody to answer to unless we choose to. He wouldn't give up his wild and free life for anything. His ear twitched. Despite having a lot he wanted to say, he kept his mouth shut. Better for the human to keep believing he was a regular dog, rather than reveal who he truly was. Revealing himself would be dangerous, after all, even to another Gifted... Metal-Leader had taught him that much, and his own instinctive wariness reminded him what would come of trusting humans. 

He watched in silence as the human threw out his cigarette, sneezing again in disgust, before giving a soft huff at being compared to another dog, almost as if he were jealous. Not that he was. He was smarter than any other dog, after all - what dog was able to speak? But of course, this human didn't know that. He could relate to not having anyone to rely on, though. After all, he had had to fend for himself since he was eight years old. He had considered forming a pack... but holding a position of leadership among other dogs was a tricky task, and he was wary of getting into too many fights. Better to stay alone, he thought.

@deacon

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"But I guess this life is not so bad. Can go wherever I want to, whenever I want to. No one to get on my tail. House to upkeep for years, just me, the road and my next meal. Came all the way from Texas without a second thought, nothing holding me back there, nothing holding me back here either. Came with just a backpack and my bike. Ever saw those guys on fancy suits? Or rough types wearing uniforms?" Deacon keeps talking to his silent companion, not expecting a response back of course, but getting a couple of things off his chest, he smiles remembering the good parts on his life.

"They're locked on their drywall cages, stuck working a job and paying bills until they die. Some never even leave the neighbourhood they were born on. Its a sad life isn't it? Imagine living and dying your entire life in this fucking neighbourhood? Bad fate." He couldn't imagine the world from a 9 to 5 viewpoint, having a house to call his, a dog and a family wasn't part of his life plans. Maybe a dog at some point, but whatever else is far being his reach, he is an outcast, a nomad, not a towner.

"I know why you stray dogs aren't keen on beings pets, being locked behind fences or walls. There is something comforting about being on your own, surviving on street smarts and whatever you can scrounge up. Makes the world a lot simpler, and a lot bigger." A smile appears on his face. "Still can't say I'm completely on my own. I have a couple of friends that have my back, good folk, ride or die kind of folk, and now I got a pretty sweet gig at the repair shop, couldn't ask for more."

Deacon looks down at the dog. "And there is always what the next day brings. Perhaps some good company at the bar, a sweet engine at the shop, or even pouring my heart out to a stray dog that was sorting through my trash a couple of minutes ago." Deacon is amused with himself, striking one of the deepest conversations he ever had in his life with basically a wall. Still, there are no better listeners then animals, they can't use what they heard against you, can't gossip either.

"Just too bad you're going to be gone once I head back inside, like a figment of my imagination. Off to sort through trash in another neighbourhood maybe. If dogs could make deals I'd offer you not turn over my garbage bin if I left some food out in exchange, you know, its really annoying to put it back up at morning." 


@sasha