well, this isn't going as smoothly as she envisioned. these days, gengar is more professional (for him, at least) about taking things, but moments like these — like holding up someone's wallet for the whole sidewalk to see like link holding up a new item — still colored some of their jobs together.
[break][break]
zoë steals a glance over her shoulder some paces past where she discarded his wallet and feels her heart leap into her throat at the sight of paxton still chasing after her.
[break][break]
"ack!" she yelps, ungracefully shouldering past another woman as she looks forward again. shit, how do i lose this guy? she's getting gassed from running, her panting sounding resoundingly loud in her ears. 
[break][break]
as zoë takes a desperate turn into an alleyway ahead, gengar sinks into paxton's shadow and pops back up directly in front of him, still grinning at him even as he poses as a literal hurdle between the man and his money.
[break][break]

+ paxton concordas

her unfamiliarity is palpable. he zeroes in on it like a sharpedo to a drop of blood. "no," she admits. there's no point in lying about something so easily refutable by her body language. "i haven't."
[break][break]
zoë blinks at him incredulously as he orders her to put the stick in reverse. is he seriously teaching me to drive right now? she looks away, places her palm on the stick shift, and fidgets with it experimentally until the R is illuminated. the car begins to roll backwards and she, in her haste and inexperience, hits the gas. for a panicked second, they're full-on reversing. 
[break][break]
she stomps on the brake this time and the car lurches to a sudden stop. in the trunk, her gengar tumbles around soundlessly, bouncing languidly off the trunk door and the back of the back seats like a grinning balloon.  "shit," comes out as a low hiss between her teeth, her fingers curling tighter around the steering wheel.
[break][break]

+ GABRIEL BLACK driving lessons pog!!!!!!

"what?" her? drive? this has got to be the most ass-backwards kidnapping she's ever been a part of. zoë never had the privilege of driving lessons. her experience with cars could be summarized in faded memories of her grandparents driving her around and cops lecturing her from beyond a partition. "i mean — okay."
[break][break]
zoë sits down in the driver's seat, straightens her back and cranes her neck to see over the hood of the car. something catches her eye in the rearview mirror — a spirit parked in the trunk, glowing eyes just barely peering over the top of the back seats. zoë feels some comfort in having someone on her side in the car, even if they are still outnumbered.
[break][break]
before she has the chance to ask him for his car keys, she notices the push to start button. straightforward enough, she muses, feeling the car rumble to life as she presses her thumb against it. an unwelcome feeling rises in her throat, but she swallows it back down.
[break][break]
"where to?"
[break][break]

+ GABRIEL BLACK driving lessons pog??

she knew it. he wants something. there's a dull ache in her shoulders from holding the same position and her stomach rumbles quietly in the breadth between him denying her her freedom and prodding her with another question. 
[break][break]
how exactly did you get here so i can make sure you never get here again? — but wrapped up in more tasteful packaging. the yawn of his pyroar draws her eyes to the rows and rows of long, pointy teeth. she doesn't fold. not to that, at least. 
[break][break]
"didn't know someone was supposed to stop me." she shifts her weight, gives the man another shrug as though his guess is as good as hers. "i just walked here, i guess."
[break][break]

+ GABRIEL BLACK             

zoë's shoulders rise and fall in an impassive shrug, hands still in the air. most people would have whipped themselves into a frenzy by now after seeing a girl kneeling in the front seat of their previously locked car. he doesn't seem all too concerned about it, but the pyroar cornering her begs the question of what he wants if it isn't the usual brand of justice. 
[break][break]
"no. you shouldn't." zoë is tired, hungry, and rapidly losing interest in playing red-handed thief. she raises her gaze far above his head for a heartbeat, before fixing it back on him. "am i free to go, then?"
[break][break]

+ GABRIEL BLACK             

zoë knows that, no matter what name she chooses to hand over to him, the man in front of her will never accept it at face value. 
[break][break]
"heather," the name rolls off her tongue with the same ease as her own. her arms waver in their raised position with something that looks like muscle fatigue — or impatience. "are you gonna call the cops?" 
[break][break]

+ GABRIEL BLACK  i short post

ripped jeans aside, zoë walks away from this mark without any troubles. she had been worried that gengar would attract too much attention, but no one around them seems to clue into what just happened. she opens the wallet, thumbs through the contents, and feels a weight lift off of her when she finds his cash. this would fill their stomachs, maybe even buy her a new pair of jeans at the thrift store.[break][break] the relief is short-lived — the wallet begins to chirp a cute, little find me! jingle.
[break][break]
zoë risks a look over her shoulder, feeling like the cat that caught the prized canary and got caught with a mouthful of feathers. "shit." the guy couldn't wait another second to check his pockets, could he? the wallet continues to sing as she dips her thumb and forefinger into the unfolded pocket and pulls out the money inside. the rest? useless. he could have it. and she gives it to him by tossing it to the curb, literally, and breaking into a guilty sprint. 
[break][break]
gengar doesn't seem to react to paxton's threat. he sucks his tongue back into his mouth and bears his teeth, but the widening grin never quite reaches the blank expression in his narrowed eyes. truly, he could have spoken to an inanimate lamp post and gotten better results. the ghost-type falls in line behind paxton as he walks past, marching silently at his heels as they go to apprehend zoë.

+ paxton concordas

the hair on the back of her neck prickles with unease, validated moments later by the sound of a voice that must belong to the owner of the vehicle. fuck. she looks at gengar. he's finally stopped smiling, the title fluttering out of his hand as he melts into her shadow. she pushes the sunglasses in her hand down into the sleeve of her jacket with her fingers, lets out a shivering sigh, and backs out of the driver's seat, hands raised. 
[break][break]
"this your car? my bad." she turns to face him, slowly, her eyes drawn to the beasts flanking her. well, this complicates things. "you should really make sure your car is locked when you're parked, mister."
[break][break]

+ GABRIEL BLACK  i will learn to short post prayge

zoë prefers the city proper, but striking the same spot too many times leaves the area a little too hot for her tastes. the openness of the shipyard makes her feel anxious, but the shiphands on their smoke breaks give hardly a passing glance to a teenage girl touring their docks. well, canvasing more like. she walks past moored boats of all sizes, each languid movement with the current another tug toward the end of their lines. 
[break][break]
looks like a whole lot of nothing out here.
[break][break]
maybe they aren't going to eat today. the thought comes with a pang of dull disappointment, like a kid realizing something harmless like having too much homework to go hang out with their friends. zoë retraces her steps, taking her time as she winds her way down the shipyard. 
[break][break]
on her way out, she notices a car. a nice car, the kind that sticks out like a sore thumb in a place like this. she loiters, but no one comes back for their vehicle. as she approaches, she sees a pair of glowing eyes in the passenger seat — gengar, with his ghostly ass firmly planted in a stranger's car.
[break][break]

he grins blankly as she fiddles with the car lock. she hates tinkering with locks, moreso when the lock can set off a screaming alarm at any moment. her conspirator presses his face against the driver's side window, now, watching her finagle with the lock. after what feels like forever, she hears the car door unlock, though it's unclear if her lockpicking skills have improved or if her gengar has acquired the fine motor skills to press buttons. 
[break][break]

zoë opens the door and leans into the car. she starts rummaging through compartments for anything valuable to fill her pockets with.
[break][break]

+ GABRIEL BLACK  i will learn to short post prayge

there's something about the way he appraises her shoes that she takes unkindly to, but her act doesn't allow her to get bent out of shape over her beat up shoes. "yeah, i guess so," she concedes to the notion that some people are just born clumsy, the corner of her mouth twitching in thinly-veiled discomfort as he squeezes her hand. zoë can feel the intent in his vice grip. fine, she thinks, allowing her fingers to grow slack and her free hand to drop back to her side. you win, buddy.
[break][break]
"thank you, paxton," she says again, personalizing her gratefulness this time. "i'm heather." the moniker used to conjure up an ache in her chest, but the feeling is dull these days — like an old scar. behind paxton, his wallet floats into zoë's line of sight, pedestaled by gengar's raised, stubby arms. a few curious eyes are drawn to the ghost-type. the no thoughts, head empty look behind his grin is all too telling.
[break][break]
"well, we've both got places to be, so i won't keep you any longer." it's hard to play it cool with the urgency building in her chest. it drips into her voice like a broken faucet. [break][break]
 "was nice meeting you, paxton!" but nicer taking something off his person. she steps around him, plucks the wallet from her gengar's grubby paws, and starts a brisk pace. gengar turns towards paxton — whether he looks over his shoulder or not — and sticks his tongue out with childish amusement.

+ paxton concordas

the careful way he grasps her hands is juxtaposed by the unexpected lurch as she's pulled rather quickly to her feet. zoë gives his hand a grateful squeeze, but doesn't let go right away. instead, she clasps her other hand over it, looks him right in the face. "i'm fine now thanks to you."
[break][break]
her nasty spill had attracted the eyes of other people on the street. already, they begin to turn back to their business now that she has professed that she's okay, growing disinterested in the fading shock value of the situation. still, she needs this guy to stick around a little longer. "sorry for almost taking you down with me." her apology is edged with a laugh. "my mom always tells me i need to watch where i'm going, but i guess i..." 
[break][break]
there you are. her gengar hovers behind their new friend, his grin pearly white in her peripheral vision. 
[break][break]
"i guess i'll never learn my lesson." she squeezes his hand again, perhaps too hard. "anyways, thanks again, um..."
[break][break]
a pause.
[break][break]
"what's your name?"
[break][break]

+ paxton concordas

corviknight follows lazily traced flight paths overhead, disappearing out of eyeshot every time he dips low past a building. he's a monstrous thing these days — no longer the little bird that could snatch a sandwich out of a kid's hand like a pesky wingull. he circles once and then lands on a rooftop, steel talons gripping the eaves. 
[break][break]
zoë quickens her pace, hands in her pockets, as she strolls down the block. there's a sense of urgency to her footsteps, like she has a bus to catch but she's not quite late enough to make a mad dash for the station. 
[break][break]
halfway down the street, she trips and takes an embarrassing spill on the sidewalk. the tearing noise of her jeans against pavement makes her wince more than the rawness of her palms as she braces herself against the ground. i didn't mean to fall that hard, she thinks, groaning.
[break][break]
zoë looks up between wisps of hair at the person she fell in front of, extending a reddened hand weakly. "hey, do you think you could," she takes a ragged breath. the warm day grows unexpectedly cool. "give me a hand here?"
[break][break]

+ paxton concordas