Bankers, unions, strikes, strike-breakers, mobsters, cops, swindlers, grifters, con-artists, honest folk... It had gotten hard to see who was good anymore, who really wanted to help the people and who was just out for themselves...

Bankers that paid off grocers to keep prices low. Great for the city folk, but bad for farmers. Factory workers that hardly saw their families and couldn't pay their mortgages pushed around by foreman who made enough money that they couldn't care less...

Unions who only really wanted a cut of your pay to make sure you were treated fairly... Why weren't equal and fair wages simply a thing without paying someone else to figure that out for you?

Strikes that tore down the assembly line and halted progress...

Strikebreakers that KILLED innocent men and women for standing up for themselves and trying to get fair pricing for their trades.

Mobsters who bent the law and broke the law to do whatever they pleased, but often enough gave back to the community more than others did. Blood money was strong...

Cops who sometimes upheld the law when it was beneficial, and turned the other way when it was lucrative...

Swindlers, grifters, con-artists that ran scams on any and EVERYONE that they met... A buck here, a buck there. Watch my hand, but don't notice my other... Allow me to help you up! Your watch? It's gone?! Let me help you find it!

Honest folk pushed to the brink where they would kill, revolt, or even make deals with the Devil to make sure they were fed and cared for...

Why had the world gotten so out of hand?

Thomas wondered all of these things as he dipped in and out of the crowd that had gathered in front of the city seat. Rioters and unions had gathered with their signs and their yelling about change. Picketers they were called... He smirked and shook his head. A silly word.

"Picketing..." he mumbled aloud. "Maybe I'll do a little 'picketing' for change myself." He snickered at his own wordplay and began bumping through the crowd. Hands dove into pockets of jackets and pants. It wouldn't take long before he'd hit about twenty different people... But that was always when someone noticed something. He heard it loud and clear.

"HEY! YOU STEALIN' FROM ME?!"

Turning, Thomas caught the start of a fight as the man accused retorted.

"We're all out here for the same reasons bud, we're broke, and we want change! Why would I stea~," the man tried to get out, but was cut short. A fist caught him in the jaw and he reeled backward. That was the end of the "peaceful" picketing as everyone started to get rowdy. The tension had already been high, but to watch it explode so closely was fun. Thomas grinned mischievously before turning and pushing his way out of the crowd as fast as he could. Dodging hands and feet, he made it out of the crowd only to stumble and fall as he exited. A few wallets and watches skidded across the street in front of him and he scrambled to pick them up.

Dusting himself as he turned to his right to look at the crowd and put all of his new "belongings" away, Thomas took one step forward and was immediately halted as he turned his head to face the direction and ran face first into someone else... Stammering, he paused and looked up.

"S-s-sorry! H-hello there!" 

It wasn't often the young man was startled and caught off guard. Whoever it was, they were really quiet, really good, or really just in the right/wrong place at the right/wrong time... Or maybe a little of all three.

The silence was unsettling, but it wasn't uncommon. However, something felt off about the person he'd bumped in to and he chuckled nervously. Moving to take a step, the person stepped with him and blocked his path. Trying to step to the other side, they did the same again. Thomas looked them in the face and smiled...

"My apologies for the dance."

Thomas telegraphed a step to the left but quickly spun to his right as the person in front of him fell for the falter. Thomas took off, sprinting as fast as he could and he -knew- the person would be quickly on his tail. Acknowledging his worry, he took a glance over his shoulder and learned that the feeling was right. The person was keeping ground with the swift wizard and that was troublesome. At least Thomas had a few leg lengths on his pursuer and that kept him outside of reach. Turning back forward he put his head down and gave it his all, making way for a busy street corner where he could try and hide in the crowd.

Bumping and shoving through the crowd of people never made for a quick hide, but he used them to dip into a nearby alley. Wrapping his coat around himself tightly, he lowered his head and walked swiftly along the path. However, as he took a glance over his shoulder he was met with the butt of a gun directly to his forehead and reeled backward. One step... Two steps... Three and then his rear came crashing down as blood poured over his face.

"Just who do you think you are, kid?" came a rough voice from the dark figure. He still couldn't tell if it was male of female, but he knew he was in for some trouble.

"Giuseppe... K.C. Giuseppe." Thomas spat out as he reached up to wipe the blood from his face with his sleeve.

"I don't buy it..." the voice spat back and took a step toward Thomas.

"Well that's terrible for me then I suppose..." he joked, pushing himself to his feet only to find a gun pointed in his face. His hands were in the air nearly immediately.

"Whoa whoa! Let's not get hasty here, pal..." Thomas stood still, until the person behind the gun waved it and directed him backward. Thomas reversed slowly until his back pressed against the wall and the gun was stuck under his nostrils.

"If you think you can steal on my block kid, you got another thing comin'." The gun smelled of fresh powder and needed to be cleaned... And Thomas knew that meant this gun was a killer. He knew the person behind it was not someone to be reasoned with. He knew he needed a plan and immediately started cooking up the mental power and concentration needed to cast without speaking... His left hand waved slowly as his eye fixated on a trash can behind him...

"You're gonna die here today, pretty boy, and then I'm gonna... Who are you waving too?" the person asked as he spun, hearing the trash can shake. The lid came flying off and slammed hard into their hand as they brought the gun up to block their face... The gun clattered to the floor and went off, burying a bullet into the brick where Thomas had been moments before... But he was already on the move again, foot over foot, fast as he could. He could hear cursing behind him as the androgynous, smokey voice yelled and started after him again.

Everything seemed bad, looked bad, but Thomas knew he had to get away...

Up in the distance he could see another street corner and prepared to round it as a ball of flame slammed into the building beside him. Skidding to a halt and staring at the flames, he turned around. His pursuit wasn't a 'No-Maj' after him at all like he'd assumed. In fact, they were hurtling fireballs, in mid daylight, around other 'No-Maj's' who were confused by what they now saw...

All of a sudden, the matter had become one specifically for his -other- talents, and he understood. They weren't after him for what he had stolen. They were after the trinkets he collected... Or where there to stop him from gathering more. One or the other...

Thomas pat the flames out and made the corner, slamming his back against it and casting a disillusionment spell to fade into the background. Now he would wait for his pursuer to make the corner and get some answers on -his- terms...