After arriving in Hargeon just yesterday, Aleksandr had already decided to get to work. He had no intention of killing time by lounging around or sightseeing. There would be time enough for that later. Right now, he needed cash and what finer way of earning money was there than doing petty jobs? They won't require a lot of effort on his part and would help him get back into working habits. Low-risk, low-reward. The low-reward part was a bit of a bummer, but you have to start somewhere. With these intentions, he had set out into the city from his hotel room in search of all (non-demeaning) work. He'd thrown on a plain white shirt and equally dull black joggers. Yes, he possessed an extensive wardrobe, but he had decided that it would be for the best if he tried to look normal and blend into the crowd. He did have a compulsion to stand out from the crowd, but he resisted this urge (primarily because he did not want to make anyone wary of him with any possibly eccentric wardrobe choices). Sure, there were a few downsides to someone mistaking him for a commoner. A thief might attempt his hand at robbing Alek, but he didn't let that bother him. It might even be amusing to experience.

However, despite his wardrobe choices, Aleksandr still stood out from the crowd. Despite his decline over the last few years, he was still a very well-built man. And he had white hair. You didn't see that very often. He had been around town looking for suitable errands and had scoured the request board clean. Having found nothing that caught his interest, he had taken a short break to catch his thoughts. Coincidentally, this break had been just outside the police station. That was when a rather-frustrated looking red-haired man in uniform (presumably an officer) came galloping out the door. He took a look around, and his eyes landed on Aleksandr. Aleksandr sighed. He hoped the officer wasn't going to do a background check on him for nothing would waste his time more. "Hey, you." the red-haired man pointed at Aleksandr, clearly talking to him. "Who, me?" he replied, trying to avoid the matter. "Yes, you. Come on in." the officer exclaimed, with an unsubtle tone of annoyance in his voice. He did not wait for an answer, and turned around and went back into the station. Aleksandr sighed. "Motherfucker." he whispered under his breath and followed the man who led him into his office.

As soon as Aleksandr had caught up with him, 'Kenji' as he had just found out, had started telling the details of the errand Alek was supposed to run. It seemed he wouldn't take no for an answer. Aleksandr had to teach a couple of rebellious kids a lesson to stop them from painting graffiti all over the city. "Isn't that your job?" Aleksandr spoke, a bit suspicious. Kenji squinted at him, clearly off-put by his defiance. "I have my hands full today." he paused "I'm on ticket duty." he completed his sentence. Aleksandr rolled his eyes. He resented authority figures, despite having formerly been one. "Alright, I'll do it. Where can I find them?" he asked. "You're a grown man, I'm sure you're more than capable of finding them. But don't hurt them." the officer paused "Too much. " he spoke, handing Aleksandr a bag, walked forward, and waved back at him, leaving him to his own devices. But he didn't think it would take much 'labor' to get a couple of punk kids in line.

After some searching, he found the kids he thought were the troublemakers. They were painting on the side of a crumbling building. He envied them. "Stop that." Aleksandr stepped forward and spoke in an eerily calm tone, his left hand in the air, small particles of ice sparkling between his fingers. The kids turned around, almost in unison, taken aback by his tone. "Or what?" One of the kids, presumably the leader spoke out defiantly with his index finger on the button. It seems they weren't phased that Aleksandr was a magic-user. He sighed. Seems he would have to this the hard way. He created a bullet-like projectile out of the particles between his fingers and shot it at the can, which landed a couple of feet away from the boy with a hole at the place of the bullet impact. "That could've been your head." he spoke, still calm. He had no plans of going that far, but if his threat worked in stopping them, he'd take it. He stuck out his arm and pointed outwards towards the exit with his thumb. The kids, as if on command, followed suit, dropping the graffiti cans. Aleksandr chuckled at their behavior. He picked up the cans, collecting them in the bag Kenji had given him. He then went back to the station, handed in the cans, and collected his reward.



Word Count: 826/500.