1-1: Vigilante

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Being the third wheel in a relationship is frustrating. Being the third wheel in a crime was seeming even worse than that to Mac.

He was getting uncomfortable now, listening to his partners bicker about what had gone wrong. He silently checked off everything they would be doing wrong were someone watching them.

"Can you possibly avoid breaking everything you touch?" One muttered. His words were a little gravelly, as if his vocal chords were scratching against his throat. His voice didn't carry a ton of anger, yet, but Mac knew it could build.

The other was a different case. He had a bulky physique which would intimidate anyone except these two, because they knew how much of a numskull he was. "I'm the muscle, ain't I? Who says I gotta be careful?"

"I do, Alex!" Mac rolled his eyes. There was a name. Names meant getting ID'd.

"Yeah, whatever, Flint!" 

"And there's a second." Mac grunted. The two looked at him. "Really wishing I hadn't come along. Although you two definitely would have blown this job if I hadn't been there."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Flint asked. There was the anger.

"Yeah, whatsit s'posed to mean?" Alex joined, though his look at Flint made it clear he was actually unsure what it meant.

Mac wasn't really sure how he was going to reply. He had to say something that would get through their thick skulls.

But he wasn't expecting to get yet another question. "I'm with them. Definitely finish that statement, where you continue to incriminate yourselves."

The three looked around. The voice filled the alley suddenly. It sounded arrogant. Annoying.

And very young.

"Who said that?" Alex asked.

"Some kid." Flint groaned. "Arrogant brat."

"Wow, okay, sorry to interrupt, but I did not realize how bad your voice was, man. There's a drug store two blocks down, you couldn't have tried swiping some lozenges?"

Mac shook his head, almost laughing in spite of himself. He reached down to his belt, his finger ready to grip the handle of his-

"Hoo, boy. You brought the big boy toys, huh?" The voice now came from behind Mac, and he angrily swung a fist back. A short figure just behind him leaned back quickly, before snapping back to standing up straight. "Nice try, man. Anywho, let's just get rid of this..." There was a strange, brief sound, followed by what sounded like the gun hitting the concrete. "...and get you guys ready for the cops."

Mac growled softly, and threw a punch, which the shadowed figure caught easily in one hand. Mac threw up a knee to try to catch him off guard, but that was stopped just as quickly with his other hand. In this very vulnerable position, Mac was easily flipped over to the side.

With the first crook down, he lifted his head at the other two. A pair of large white eyes reflected a small amount of light from the street. "Alright, who's next?"

The larger one stepped forward, but Flint held him back. "Let's beat it. Kid's just looking for attention."

They made a break for the street. They made it a few steps, and were suddenly thrust against the wall as something hit them at high speed. A sticky substance burst around, spreading and securing them to the surface.

The figure winced. "Ooh. May want to lower the psi on that. Wouldn't want to break any bones." He turned to the two pinned criminals, who were struggling intensely against their traps. "You guys are good, right?" He got no reply, only continued grunting. "You're probably good."

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