Marcy District. To 99% of Bablyon, it was a scummy place filled with criminals, drug dealers and hookers on every corner. To the district Taleste came from, however, it was considered quite a posh place, and worlds above the impoverished conditions of the truly lowliest districts, where the people can't even afford to commit crime. To Taleste herself, however, it was home. She had a fourth floor apartment, which was quite posh for the lower class. The general consensus is that the further up you live, the worse off you are, with the exception of the first two floors. Given the ease of breaking in, only the brave, stupid, or those without choice live in the first two floors.

'The Beehive.' That was the name of Taleste's local club. It was also the place where she went just to party. She never stole from anyone from the The Beehive. People might recognize her. No, she went further afield to do her pickpocketing. Right now, she was on a train to a nightclub called 'Ego', in a neigboring but equally seedy district. The train arrived, and straight off the bat, the people getting off the train were harassed by a desperate drug dealer, who may or may not be trying to sell rat poison and brick dust in a bag. Homeless people in the lower class don't beg for change. There's no point. Nobody has the money to spare. Instead they try and pass off whatever they can as drugs or booze, or roll it into a cigarette and try to peg it to anyone they see.

Finally arriving at the nightclub, Taleste check out the dancefloor. Grotty, unwashed people were dancing to electronic music that is really unimpressive if you're sober. Most of the people on that floor were drunk or drugged to the point they could barely stand, let alone dance. It would be funny if it weren't tragic, and it would be pitiful if Taleste didn't drink and drug her way into that state and join them in the Beehive at least three times a week.

She headed to the bar. This was where the real action was, for her. This was where the people with money came to lose it, loading up on cheap beer and pain thinner passed off as proper spirits until they were ready to join the dancefloor, or destroy their liver trying, which only happened to the occasional newbie as people in the lower class districts had livers of steel. Taleste spotted a mark. He was in a leather jacket, which weren't cheap. He looked like he'd already had a couple of drinks. She slid over to the bar and sat beside him.

"Nice jacket."

---

Taleste has the man's wallet, and his wearing his jacket. She had taken him behind the alley. He lies there, passed out and jacketless, and with his wallet stolen. But Taleste had given him ten minutes of her...'time', and he hadn't been very good. He deserved it. She boarded the train and headed back towards Marcy District, happy with her new ill gotten gains. She knew a guy who could get her a women's leather jacket if she gave him this one. Trade was common in these districts, because money wasn't always a viable trading resource, hence the phrase 'trading old shoes for bread,' which in this part of Babylon, meant 'taking the quick, cheap option instead of waiting patiently and getting a better result'. The reasoning behind that expression being that it would be smarter to get the shoes repaired and sell them as new, which would earn you considerably more money., but if you were starving, there wasn't really a choice.