And The Running...

"Expulso!"

Nemo hadn't accounted for such rage; the fury of a shop keeper scorned. He had underestimated the hellish element.

He spun hastily out of the line of fire of the man from whom he'd stolen two bottles of Firewhiskey, and dove behind a near building's corner. Breath. Breath? Nay, breathing wasn't necessary. Of the many trades with which Nemo had grown familiar during his years, it had been dueling at which he had been most skilled. And it was during the heat of battle that his needs as a human being melted from his form; a robotic soldier constructed of memorized spells and tactics.

With the glass throats of the beverages he'd nicked wound loosely in each fist, Nemo gazed ahead of himself absently as the strategies of warfare trickled along his consciousness, and he laid his back flat against the wall. His lips trembled giddily with adrenaline and amusement, twitching at the corners of his mouth into a madman's smile -

- before he sprinted out from behind his cover and made his way across the battle field in long strides, narrowly avoiding hexes and hissed incantations as he ran. He may very well have fled the scene of his crime entirely unscathed, hadn't he collided forcefully with the shoulder of a man whom had been unfortunate enough to have walked Nemo's intended escape route.

"Fck - shit - piss!" Nemo groaned against the pile of foreign limbs atop which he'd fallen.

Matt had been minding his own business walking down the streets of Diagon Alley. He had wanted to get out and enjoy some fresh air. Plus his cousins birthday was coming up soon and he figured he'd want a shrunken head or something. So he was in a pretty dense part of Diagon Alley. Not quite Knockturn but near enough to be so. He decided to turn back and head home. He wasn't paying attention to anything else around him so the shouts of curses behind him were unnoticed. He put his hands in his pockets and began to stroll back down towards the exit. A quick drink really couldn't hurt.

Thud. Something had him him and knocked him over.

He fell with the man and soon found himself cluttered among body parts. He groaned and quickly pulled himself together. Rubbing his head he turned to look at what had caused this tumble, it was a man. A man who seemed around Matt's age and looked very angry. There were two bottles of alcohol laying on the ground-one of them broken and spilling out onto the ground. He stopped rubbing his head and moved over towards the man to see if he needed help up.

"Are you alright?" he asked him as he put his hand out for him to grab and help himself up.

The stranger's concerned inquiry had shaken Nemo from his stupor - which had consisted of lying flat in the street with his forehead rested firmly against cold cobblestone - and called to his attention the bottle that had shattered to his left. "No!" Nemo called and pushed himself with his flattened palms towards the alcohol that had slowly begun to evaporate. Having crawled near enough to the spill to hover above it, Nemo cupped his palms around the puddle, and extended his tongue to lap at whatever of the beverage could be salvaged.

His shoulders fell, visibly deflating in response to his failure as he heaved himself to his feet, with a single bottle of Firewhiskey in hand. A quick surveillance of his surroundings confirmed that the shop keeper from whom he'd been running had yet to catch up with him, but that it would not be long before Nemo was once more under fire.

Nemo turned to pay the man whom he'd trampled a brief glance, "Hold this," he insisted, and with the careful touch of a father passing his child along to the arms of another, he handed the stranger the remaining bottle, as Nemo hadn't the extra hand necessary to continue to hold the drink and dig his wand out from a pocket in worn jeans. "Don't you dare drink that," He warned the man beside him with the tip of his wand and a grin, before he gestured his wrist in the direction of the advancing shop keeper, "Incarcerous!"

"Aha!" Nemo laughed triumphantly, and retrieved from the stranger the bottle that he'd demanded he hold. Only then did he properly address him, "Sorry. You're in for it now, too. He saw you holding the goods." And he ran, off in an aimless direction down a street he knew not the name or nature of. "You coming?" He called behind him.

Matt rolled his eyes as the man made a last desperate attempt at getting some profit out of his purchase. At least Matt thought it was a purchase-he doubted it was. He was expecting a hand to grasp his own but ended up getting a bottle. Holding it by the neck he rolled his eyes and brought it closer to his face. Reading the label he was sure the man had stolen it. He did whistle though, this guy had some good taste-expensive, but good. His wand began to heat up as the man began to stand up and Matt readied himself by pulling out his wand. But it wasn't the man who was danger but someone down the street.

Matt looked down the street at the man who appeared to be after this man. He chuckled and looked at him as he hexed the man down the street. He was impressed, good accuracy and fairly powerful. As the man grabbed the bottle out of his hand he realized how bad this probably looked on him. When he head heard the man call down to him he groaned and took off following him, wand in hand.

As he caught up with Nemo he looked at him. There was a look of determination and ease on his face. So he had done this sort of thing before then. No? Matt didn't know, his people skills were off. He had been underground and cut off from society for nearly five months so it was reasonable. He figured he might as well help so he turned around and pointed his wand at a wall. The man chasing them was fairly behind so he had to think quick. "Diffindo!" he yelled as bits of the wall broke off and created rubble in the alleyway. That would slow the man down. Then he continued to run down and catch up with Nemo.

Building corners were miraculous.

Nemo gripped the nearest building's edge as he flew past, and with a leap he spun himself around the corner to flatten himself against the wall, much in the manner that he had the first.

What a brilliant place for rest they provided.

A glorious chuckle erupted from Nemo's parted lips, "Alright there, Sparky. That's awesome of you and all, to blow up a building for me, but we only just met each other. I have standards," He jokingly stated as he sank to the pavement. He giggled, high on thrill, from beneath the cover of his raggedy hair. "He won't follow us anymore. He didn't even make it a block the last time," Nemo dismissively explained.

When Nemo had suddenly managed to disappear behind a corner Matt nearly ran into a wall himself. He had stopped just in time and turned around, the man was walking off. He heard him curse rather loudly and Matt couldn't help but grin and let out a sigh of relief. He walked over to where Nemo was and put his hands on his knees and bent over. He hadn't had a good run like that in forever. He was breathing heavy, a little out of shape in his own mind.

Sparky? he thought and he blinked a few times thinking about it. Eh, he's had worse nicknames given to him before. He chucked along with Nemo and nodded at him. "Sorry, I tend to rush into things. Probably why I'm still single." he added as he stood back up.

"Blimey mate, that guy really doesn't like you." he said.

Nemo wedged the bottle's cork between his molars and in a garbled manner he spoke, "I like to think of it as 'free'. But good to know I've got a shot with ya." Alas, he pulled loose his drink's sealant and spat it forward before shooting a mocking and overenthusiastic wink towards the man. And swiftly, he began to gulp from his short supply of alcohol.

After a third of the bottle had been swallowed, Nemo separated his lips from those of the glass container and inhaled a noisy breath. "Well, that's a killjoy for you, aint it?" He inquired in regards to the shopkeeper from whom Nemo had stolen with a grin.

Matt chuckled along with Nemo. He then realized that they hadn't formally introduced themselves to each other. Although he had already been given the nick name Sparky and he was pretty sure it was going to stick with him. He grinned at the thought of what Michael would have to say about him. He held his hand out for Nemo to take.

"Matt," he told him. He was pretty sure the stranger was probably going to stick with Sparky though. He didn't mind it all too much. He was tempted to take hold of the bottle himself and take a few swigs. Everyone who knew Matt knew that he didn't get drunk very easily. He wondered if that had changed any when he was down under.

Killjoys were no fun, especially older adults. "Well I'm definitely no killjoy. I love a good chase down the street." he told him with a grin of his own.

With the muted clink! of glass rolling along cobblestone, Nemo threw to the street the spent bottle and swallowed the last the stolen alcohol that swashed in his filled cheeks; his only hope towards the brief satisfaction of his vice.

He gave a fluent roll of his wrist in an introductory gesture, "You don't look it. You seem a 'David' - so I'll stick with 'Sparky'," Nemo informed the lad without thought of disagreement or confusion in regards to the origin of his nickname of choice. Matt had, after all, aided him in the theft of a pub owner's merchandise. Thus, Nemo assumed he was a man who did his fair share of ‘going with the flow’. And as Nemo gave Matt an observatory once-over, he read of an impulsive and adventurous man, indeed.

Matt elicited from Nemo a laugh with his admission, while simultaneously Nemo made himself more comfortable with the folding of his arms beneath his head. He appeared to have no objection to spending the afternoon in an alleyway with a stranger, but rather to be proud in having inserted himself in such a scenario. "And that's a good thing, because you’ll be finding yourself doing a shit-load of running while I'm around," Nemo added, presenting his assumption clearly and, yet again, without the expectation of rejection.

"The name's Mo," Nemo offered, "Insanely hilarious and attractive, hard-liquor-drinking son of a b-tch. Welcome aboard." He extended his hand, offering Matt a shake.

David? That was a new one, and a rather plain one in Matt's opinion. He didn't pay much attention to the nick name. He doubted he'd get the origin or reason as to why he had received a nickname within twenty minutes of meeting this man. Matt loved a good chase, and he was always game for a good thrill. Things like being chased by an angry shopkeeper was fun in it's own way. He had already made the decision that he liked this man, Mo.

Matt took Mo's hand and shook it. "I'm assuming Mo is short for something then?" Matt asked as he let go of Nemo's hand and leaned against the wall. He let the back of his head hit the wall and took a deep breath. "Running's good, keeps me in shape." he said. Although he was easing his way into his thirties he wanted to maintain a healthy life style. A life style that mostly consisted of running from various..."things". He looked at Nemo, giving him a once over.

He seemed to dress casual. Which was good, meant he wasn't a pompous snob who ironed everything. He seemed to keep his facial hair decently groomed, also good. It took him a realize how detailed he was getting into this when he snapped back into reality; he was hungry. His stomach rumbled and he looked down at it. "Been a while since I last ate." he said, more to himself.