[center][url=https://fontmeme.com/fonts/world-conflict-font/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/221220/c833ae20f0b76b542d2ed78f115cb41a.png[/img][/url][h3]&[/h3][img]https://imagizer.imageshack.com/v2/273x65q90/924/zsILcN.png[/img][/center]
Jimi was dumbfounded for a second before he sauntered into the alleyway, trailing his fingers along the wall and shaking his head. "Oh, you've got it all wrong. I'm a very bad person." He bared his teeth in a mirthless grin. "And I don't think I like what I see here. You get one chance to walk away from this before I start swinging, got it?" The electrical charge almost seemed to hiss in agreement.

Harry, sweat beading on his bald forehead, stepped in front of Jimi with his arms outstretched. "Hey, guy, I'm sorry about Joe and him punching the kid, he got all upset and I was hoping to get him down to the gym so he could work out his anger."

"Joe, put the kid down!" he yells behind him.

"Yeah, Joe, listen to your friend." Jimi dropped the mirthless grin at least. He liked to think he was rational - that if they were willing to walk away without a fight, he was too. Of course, there was that part that hoped Joe wouldn't listen, that wanted this to break into a fight he knew he'd win. He stomped down on that part, but the pipe remained charged and crackling with electricity.

"Alright," Joe smiled, releasing his grip on Remy's coat. He fell back into the dumpster with a squawk.
"I know that look," Joe continued, turning to face Jimi. "You willin' ta drop that stick and make it a fair fight?"
"Joe! No!" Harry cried out. "Carl, drag him back!"
Carl glanced between Jimi then back at Joe, then started lumbering towards Joe.
"Keep outta this, Harry! You too, Carl. I want him."

Jimi scowled as Remy fell in. Oh, yeah, he wanted a piece of this guy. And when Joe offered himself on a platter, he dumbly blinked before barking out a laugh. He reabsorbed the electricity from the pipe and let it fall with a clatter.

"That's quite an idea, isn't it? A fair fight." He walked up to 'Joe', still chuckling. "Just a tiny problem is all. Just one." He put a hand on Joe's shoulder.

"With me, it's [i]never[/i] fair." He dug his nails in, and the contact was enough to start pumping the heat energy into Joe. Fever, heatstroke, sun sickness - there were a few names for what he was doing. It all led to the same basic principle, though: if Joe didn't surrender, no fakeouts, he would have his brain poached in its own fluids.

Joe screams, falling to his knees while trying to use his hand to fend Jimi off.
"Joe!" Harry calls out, when Carl brushes past him, swinging at Jimi.
"Stop!" Harry yells.

Jimi did let go of Joe, only to grab at Carl. This time, instead of infusing heat energy, he was draining it. Hypothermia, they'd call it if they made it to the hospital. He probably would - it would just manifest as some very bad chills right now, only worsening if he kept his grip.

"Energy transfer. Never learned how to shut it off," he lied, but as long as he kept the same casual tone, how would any of them know? "Not to blame you, but you might've asked [i]why[/i] I'm a very bad person."

Carl too had fallen to his knees, the big man wrapping his arms around him as he shook with cold.

"Mister, please, just let Carl go!" Harry begged. He pulls out his wallet and produces a couple of c-notes, handing them to Remy who was looking over the edge of the dumpster with a little awe. "Kid, just take the money, I'm sorry about Joe punching you, okay?"

Jimi looked suspiciously at Harry, then Carl, then released Carl and hopped back, lest the man decide it was a good opportunity to take a swing. He gave Carl as wide a breadth as he could as he collected his pipe from the ground. "Well. At least we've got one good person here." He pointed with the pipe to Harry - a gesture, not a threat. "They probably won't need the hospital. I didn't hold on long enough. Just treat 'em as if they got really sick. Fluids, bedrest, that good stuff."

"Thank you," Harry says humbly. He offers a hand to Remy, but the boy just jerks back, wide eyed. "Can't say I blame you," the trucker sighs. "Carl, can you walk or do I gotta call a cab?"
Carl just nods dumbly, stumbling to his feet and back towards the other two.
Harry knelt down and wrapped his arm around Joe, helping him up. "Joe, you gotta stop taking it out on the world! Sharon left you for that bit of flash. We know you're hurting, but you gotta let it go!"
"Seven years," Joe gasps, hand rubbing where Jimi stuck his fingernails in. "Partners for seven years, and she just drove off with him!"
The three truckers take a wide berth around Jimi and head towards the street.

"....world sucks," Jimi managed as the three passed. It was about as much sympathy as he could muster, given the scene he'd walked into.

He walked up to the dumpster Remy was still in as the trio left, putting his pipe back into his belt. "Seriously, you need a hand to get out of there?" It then occurred to him that the younger teen (he seemed younger at least, but not a full-on child) would've heard what he said. "My powers are actually at will, but things tend to work out better when people believe you can't stop it."

"Thanks," Remy says, shaking his head. "I uh, can't control mine. Please mister, step back."

Jimi nodded and stepped back. Ok, now he felt like a bit of a dick for pretending his powers couldn't be controlled if the guy here [i]actually[/i] couldn't control them. "Mind if I ask what you got?"

Remy glances back at where the burger used to be, but a smear was all that was left. He sighs, then climbs out, the two c-notes tucked away in a top pocket.

"If someone bumps into me, I get something of theirs," Remy admitted, digging in his pockets to produce Joe's smartwatch. Remy scowls and tosses it into the dumpster. The other pocket had Joe's wallet. He glanced inside and whistled at the bills, then up at Jimi. "Want half?"

Jimi's eyebrows lifted as he saw the amount. "If you don't mind." Heck, if he was stringy with his groceries, he could get the electricity back on today - well, in a few days, considering mail and everything, but point was!

[i]Good people don't profit off stealing from others. Bad.[/i]

Nope not addressing that right now. More like- "Not gonna lie, hoping you have a place to get cleaned up."

"Yeah, " Remy nods, handing over half the bills and tossing the wallet under the dumpster. "I'll just hit a vending machine on the way, can't go in someplace like this."
His stomach did a loud grumble.

Jimi wasn't sure what that meant but nodded anyways. "I'd offer, but the water got shut off a while ago. Been making do with air fresheners." That was third on his priority list, after rent and electricity. Laundromats existed after all. He paused at Remy's stomach making itself known.

"...sure you don't want me to run in and get you something?"

"Ah, no, thanks," Remy says, glancing at the kitchen door. "There's a Wenyi's and a Chef's pizza machine just past the bar."

[i]I can get washing up tabs from the Boots drugs machine, too,[/i] Remy mused. It was a pain washing everything at home by hand, but he didn't want to wash everything but his coat while standing in the laundromat with people giving him the bent eye. All he needed was some karen on the warpath about a nearly naked homeless kid exposing himself. After what happened in the park, he wanted to stay off the police radar.

Jimi nodded - couldn't really argue with that logic. "Alright. Hope ya don't mind, but I still need to get to the store before it closes." He paused and then dug into his pockets, eventually coming up with a broken-off pen and an old receipt. He jotted down something on the receipt and handed it to Remy - an address, located in the Shanty, and a series of three numbers. "Just in case Joe doesn't learn his lesson or someone else decides to be a bag of dicks."

"Uh, thanks," Remy says, taking the slip of paper carefully. "I'm Remy, everyone calls me "the rat.""

"....I don't get it, but ok." Jimi nodded. "Just 'Jimi' is fine. You stay safe, alright?"