<hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(32, 178, 170)"><span style="font-size: 22px">Kenji Inata</span></span>​</div><br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/><div class="bbImageWrapper bbImageAligned--left js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/screenshot-2022-12-09-120904-jpg.138544/" title="Screenshot 2022-12-09 120904.jpg">
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</div>Alias: Asshole; (Unassigned): Street Rat / Raven<br/>Power: Personal Gravity<br/>Age: 26<br/>Date/Time: Evening<br/>Mood Music: Fly Away - Lenny Kravitz<br/><div style="width: 54px;

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</div></div><br/><br/>Tagging: Cloe<a class="username" data-user-id="6169" data-username="Purplefairydust" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/6169/">Purplefairydust</a><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/>It seemed like Freckles was taking the bait. She said she didn't trust him and wanted to know he wasn't fucking her, and Kenji had to stifle a laugh. He wanted to say,<i>"Well, if you ask nicely I might," </i>but decided that was a bad idea. The girl hated him, and he enjoyed pissing her off. So he figured what-the-fuck, might as well tell her the truth.<br/><br/>The lottery ticket hadn't actually cost him anything – he'd bought it with all the cash he stole off people's cards, using the RFID reader he carried around. A few dollars here and there, usually in the form of a duplicate charge on their accounts, was rarely missed. It was kind of amazing how people just didn't check their bank accounts any longer, ignoring usage fee charges or a second meal at a restaurant and believing they had simply forgotten they had spent the money.<br/><br/>In Kenji's mind, if you stole something from someone and they didn't even notice it, it wasn't really theft.<br/><br/>He blinked at Freckles in surprise when she said she wanted a 60/40 split, the lion's share going to her. "You do realize I'm the one providing the means to<i>get to</i>the island, don't you?" he asked, his tone hardening. "I have the tickets. First class everything; there's even a jacuzzi tub in the room," he said, "and I can go alone and keep it for myself or bring someone I've worked with before." He shrugged. "But maybe it was my mistake for thinking we could make a profit together and I would give back to the streets by letting you tag along." He acted like he was about to jet when she interrupted him.<br/><br/><b><i>"Fine, 50 / 50" </i></b><i>She (said). Trying her best to ignore his smirk. <b>"What time do I meet you where?"</b></i><br/><br/>That was perfect – he had planned on an even split and figured she would talk him down. He just hadn't banked on having to talk her up from the 60/40 nonsense she tried to pull on him.<br/><br/>"Meet me at GBP between 6:15 and 6:30 tomorrow morning, Lufthansa Terminal," he said, mentioning the Giovan Battista Pastine International Airport in Rome, Italy. "I'm heading into the terminal at 6:30 so if you're late," he shrugged. "Bring a passport and dress for first class." His eyes raked down her body. He'd only seen her in jumping clothes; it might be nice to see her dressed like an actual girly girl for once.<br/><br/>The next morning at 6:12 am his taxi pulled up to the curb, and Kenji unloaded the two rolling bags and their smaller, matched carry-ons he had "procured" for them to carry their souvenirs back in. It didn't make sense to steal things if you couldn't get them back to where they would be sold, would it? His real haul would be in skimming off people's credit cards and bank accounts, stealing from them simply by walking near them, his little electronic pick pocket doing the majority of the work. But Freckles didn't have to know that – he would let her think that they were there for the physical theft. That should keep her little heart happy, and hey; what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.<br/><br/><div class="bbImageWrapper bbImageAligned--left js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/6d415079e73da5b8590035449f8267ec-jpg.138545/" title="6d415079e73da5b8590035449f8267ec.jpg">
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</div>He wore black – his go-to color. Black leather boots, jeans, and a long-sleeved black t-shirt underneath a wool peacoat with red trim. It was as close to a suit as he would get for now, the dress of the casually rich, though he was anything but wealthy. As he waited for Freckles he realized he needed to learn her name. It would be strange for them to keep calling each other Asshole and Freckles, after all. Though some might think that was their pet names for each other. But from what he knew about the street girl, she was as likely to give him a kiss as a knife in his spleen. She<i>was</i>a good thief, though, and though the heists she had pulled had all been minimal enough to keep her out of the news, he thought she showed some potential.<br/><br/>The added benefit was that they were going to get to stick it to the Supers. His own dad had been one, though "dad" was a compliment the man didn't deserve. He was more of a sperm donor. And now that Kenji had an accomplice it would be easier to roam the resort, getting closer to couples with too much money on their hands. As a single man traveling, Kenji's options for mingling were limited. As part of a pair, he would be able to rake in much more cash than he would on his own. In his estimation, 50% of a larger pool of takings was worth more than 100% of less.