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Busy Little Fingers


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Finally! The moment she woke up, Robin felt better! No more being sick! And she had a FULL day ahead of her, to get ready! She should have enough time to build the gas filter, and probably get some rest in between and after. She might be feeling better now, but it could quickly turn around if she wasn't careful. Better to follow grandmother Dottie's advice and take care of herself. 

 

Most of the day was spent in the workshop at the university, working on building the the gas mask. Something she could quickly put on, if the gas mask showed up, but small enough to fit in her backpack. She didn't want to risk anything tomorrow. If Finnigan or the Gas Man were up to trouble, then she had to stop them. The Gas Man had clearly not taken her seriously at first, and sure, she might have been a bit too eager to trust him, but not again. She would be ready.

 

And so, she worked into the afternoon, finally returning home. A long, hot bath. Some good food. More Kamen Rider Kabuto. Then she'd get ready for the next day, and the challenges it would bring.

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GM

 

Another day, another device. In this case, a magnificent shiny gas mask!

 

That was the results of Ronins day of labour and sweat. Fortunately, the sweat was mental rather than physical, for the fever had well and truly broke. There was a slight itch in the morning, but it sooned passed. Everything, it seemed, was fighting fit. And with goggles and mask ready, fighting-ready too!

 

As far as Robin knew, there had been no thefts over the weekend. But how much did she know? Police responses to pick pocketing where sluggish, and they did not give out such information freely even if they did collate it. And it was hardly news worthy. Word of mouth was less reliable but more accessible - although being stuck in a lab the whole weekend wasn't the best way to pick up gossip!

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That was it. Robin had done all that she could. She'd pretty much locked herself in, but she'd managed to get some things ready. She was aware that she really didn't know anything about what had happened during the weekend. All she could do was hope that Finnigan had kept his word, and that the Gas Man hadn't been up to any other trouble.

 

She got up early the next day, still feeling fine. Robin really wasn't sure what she would have done if she hadn't been. Grandmother Dottie's advice would be to take care of herself. But another would be to go out and kick ass. Grandmother Dottie's advice was often contradictionary, but it had served Robin well so far. She'd emailed in to the university and saying she wouldn't be in. Belt on. Gadgets in a backpack. Justice Buster holstered. Mask in her jacket pocket, ready to be put on as soon as she reached Trumble Street. On the way she used her phone to scan for any information she could. Major news sites, sure, but also local message boards, facebook and the like. If there had been another wave of pick pocketing, it was sure to be mentioned there.

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GM

 

Social media was alive with its normal menu of rubbish, flotsam, and ego. It took both brain and stomach to wade through the vapid posts about this, that, and the other (although mainly, it seemed, about the self), but buried admidst the static was some pertinent information. 

 

Theft!

 

Not at the rate, it seemed, that had ripped through the neighbourhood a few days ago, but pick pocketing still. At a reduced rate, but pver a wider area. 

 

Had Finnigan kept his word? It appeared not. Although he had also claimed that he was not in full control of his fingers. 

 

Trumble street looked as run down as ever, and night was falling fast, as was a chill in the air. Passing a few drug addicts that lay almost comatose in a condemned buildings porch, one could feel the dark and cold freezing their poor bodies, which mumbled and groaned. Down further, a few thugs stood around a fire - possibly, by the looks of them, drug dealers and perhaps even the sellers who had committed those poor souls to the night. 

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Aw, Finnigan. Robin had really hoped that Finnigan would have kept his word. Or that the kids would have listened to him. Whatever the case, this was far from what she had hoped would happen. She shouldn't jump to conclusions, really. But she should get to work, and not the tech support job that had started getting less and less interesting lately. 

 

As soon as she left the bus, Robin quickly slipped on her domino mask. She had practiced the move, and it was pretty much effortless by now. Back turned so the bus driver didn't see what she was doing, but quick enough that she had the mask on as she left the bus, the hood of her dark grey hoodie pulled up over her hair at the moment. The air was cold, but she still unzipped her hoodie to reveal a red shirt with a yellow star underneath. Robin knew she would have to make a proper costume for when she hadn't put on the suit, but she also kind of liked this. Coat, hood, mask. 

 

It was weird walking down this street at night. It was even less welcoming than it had been during the day. It was probably the darkness, but she was spotting far more people lying around. Drug addicts? Maybe, Robin honestly knew little about such things, but something felt off, anyway. She paused a bit as she looked at the fire and the thugs that surrounded it. 

 

Should she approach them? Might not be the smartest idea, but they were her only lead right now, and she did have to find Finnigan. No reason to get too close, though. So she approached, stopped a short distance away. "Hey! You guys know where I can find Finnigan?"

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GM

 

The three of them turned around, trying to look cool, acting suspicious. Two women and a man, dressed in urban attire, with plenty of rings and tattoos. 

 

"Finnigan?" said one, slowly, sizing up Robin. "What you want with Finnigan?"

 

"We can hook you up with what you neeeeeed...." slurred one of the women, a glazed expression on her eyes, her vocal chords lagging behind her brain. 

 

"Sure" finished the other woman. "We got what you want. Best gear in Trumble street. Even got Zoom and Max!" she said proudly. 

 

"Wait!" interrupted the man. "You ain't a cop are ya?" he asked suspiciously. And quite stupidly, for surely no cop would admit to being a cop. 

 

"She ain't no cop, idiot!" replied the second woman. "Although..." she interrupted herself. "...what do you want with Finnigan?"

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What she needed? Suuure. Robin tried not to judge, but she really didn't like drugs. Or drug dealers. Part of her wanted to stop them, but if she started firing the Justice Buster, she would quickly give herself away. She made a note of it the place. She'd go back. Maybe call the cops on them. If that would even help in this part of the city.

 

Robin lifted an eyebrow, some of the effect lost by the mask. She was wearing a mask, and the guy asked if she was a cop? That was kind of amusing, drawing a grin to her lips, even if maybe she shouldn't have. How many cops wore bright red masks? If anything, shouldn't it be riot gear? That might look kind of like a mask. At least the second woman confirmed that they knew Finnigan.

 

"I'm a friend of his. Saved him from that Gas Man guy that came looking a few days ago. Wanted to check up on how he's doing." Alright, friend might be stretching the truth a bit, but hey, the rest was basically true.

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GM

 

"Gas Man? Yeah I heard about that guy"

 

"Real %$^!hole"

 

On this, surely, everyone could (and did) agree. 

 

And it certainly was the oil to smooth the engine of diplomacy. 

 

"Finnigan ain't much better, though. Creepy guy, must be allergic to sunlight. Only saw him once and looked like some shifty old man, not a pound of meat on him. Just skin and bones" shuddered the man. "I mean, he never did us know harm. His pick pocket kids are alright. He makes sure they never go pickin our pockets..."

 

"We'd hava a problem with that" said the non-spaced-out-woman, trying to look fierce and mean. 

 

"Uhihuuuuuhhhhhh." areed the spaced-out-woman, ruining any chance of this image. 

 

"Anyway if you want to check out Finnigan..." finished the man, pointing to a run down two story building (it was initially three story, but the upper story was no more), "try the basement down there. And mind yourself on the stairs. And, uh, if you do check him out, you can do us a solid by letting us know what you find out..."

 

"Creeeepyyyy...." drooled the spaced-out-woman, her grin painted on be chemicals, but her fear still bubbling through. 

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Seemed like she had picked just the right words here, as they pointed out Finnigan's location. Still, Robin was sure it was a good thing that the neighborhood seemed pretty empty. If Justice ever became known to the city in general, she didn't want to be known for hanging out with drug dealers, after all. Crossing her arms, she nodded in response to their statement. Finnigan was creepy, yeah. And they didn't know half of what was up with him. Not that Robin knew much more, aside from him being cursed. Still, he seemed to show some honor among thieves.

 

The guy's request gave her an idea, at least. "Sure, I guess. Anything specific you want me to try finding out? Or anything about him and his kids I should look out for?" Anything that could give her an edge, any bit of knowledge of knowledge, if she had to face Finnigan again.

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GM

 

All three seemed to shudder. 

 

"Look, he's a creepy guy, ok?" blustered the more alert woman. "Nobody really knows anything about him. Turned up a few months ago, got a gang of kids together. Never seen in the light of day. He lets us get on with our business, and we let him get on with his. But..."

 

"Nobody figured him out" said the man. "Just a pile of voodoo rumours, you know?" he said, nervously. "So we really want to know what...I mean who, he is...and what his deal is, you understand?" he said.

 

It was a vague but honest objective. 

 

"Hard to do business here on Trumble street if you don't understand all the variables...." explained the woman. 

 

"vvvvvariabubblebubblebubbles...." said the echolalic stoned woman. 

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Creepy was exactly right, but from what the three were saying, she probably knew more about Finnigan than they did. Ah well, it was worth a shot. Robin didn't really feel like sharing what she knew with them at this moment, and even if they didn't sound like bad guys, they were drug dealers, and she would have to do something about them at some point.

 

"Yeah, he really is creepy." Robin agreed with them, keeping the conversation going for a moment. Turning around, she waved back at them as she walked towards the building. "I'll let you know what I find out." She really wasn't sure if she would, and she did feel kind of bad about lying, but hey, they were bad guys. Should you feel bad about lying to them? She still felt kind of weird that they hadn't even reacted to her mask, but hey, it might be normal in this part of town.

 

So, Robin walked towards the building they had pointed out, staying on the lookout for Finnigan or any of the kids that might spot her on the way. Better to be prepared.

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GM

 

The building was rather unstable, like practically every building in Trumble street. It was also dark, but this only ensured that the fire in a drum in the centre of the building was easily visible, whereas Justice was not. (How oft Justice is invisible!)

 

And around the fire huddled two women with very familiar hair. Namely, orange and green!

 

The same two pickpockets that had, three days ago, tried to pick pocket Justice!

 

"Can't keep going like this. What does Finnigan expect us to do?" muttered the first. 

 

"Cut down...he says. Just for a little while....he says. Sure. I mean, I get he taught us how to do the job. But whats the point in teaching us if he is just going to tell us to stop doing it..." muttered the second, more angrily. 

 

"Cut down. Not stop..." corrected the first. 

 

"Whatever" sighed the second, warming her hands and nimble fingers on the fire. 

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Taking advantage of being covered in darkness, Robin decided on some invisible justice. Not really sneaking, but not exactly staying in sight either. Just some casual sneaking. So, she moved towards the fire. It made sense, really. It was the only thing she could see in here, after all, and there was no reason to bring out the night goggles just yet. Had to preserve the battery, after all. 

 

The voices were familiar, as was the hair colors. Orange and Green, her two buddies! Robin was at least happy to know they hadn't gotten hurt when everything fell down, and they way they were talking, they didn't sound too down. So, hopefully no one had gotten seriously injured. The topic of their conversation was a bit worrisome, however. Finnigan sounded like he had kept his word, to a certain degree. They had cut down, but not stopped them. So, no three day armistice. She figured she should have known better, but honestly, Robin had wanted to believe the thief. At least cutting down might keep them safer, but if the kids didn't want to do that, then what could be done? She didn't really have the funds to help here.

 

Robin decided to wait a bit longer before making her presence known. Maybe they would reveal something else that could help her.

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GM

 

"Look, we are better off since Finnigan came then before...." said Orange, who was the voice of relative reason. Relative reason. 

 

"Fair...." agreed Green, with a shudder. 

 

"You remember what things where like here? For us? For you?"

 

"I remember" said Green, curtly. 

 

They both stared at the flames a while. 

 

"He's got our backs. We just need to lay off for a few more days. That's what he said" continued Orange. "We don't want heat. Remember that hero who came knocking?"

 

"I remember" said Green again, although with less chill this time.

 

"And that mercenary. You know, the Gas Guy"

 

"Hmph" said Green with a little smile on his lips. 

 

"Finnigan needs us to stay in the shadows"

 

"He needs to stay in the shadows. His condition...its pretty creepy to see. And it looks worse in the sunlight...."

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It was interesting. Finnigan had helped them, even if it was by teaching them to be thieves. Robin felt for them. If this was better, then they must have had it really bad before. She took a bit of offense to just being named "that hero", while they kind of remembered the Gas Man's name. Sure, she wasn't in this to become famous, but still, it stung her pride a little bit. She had heard enough for now, though. And, Robin had a question. 

 

So, she walked forward, towards the light. Sure, she was dressed a bit differently, but the kids might recognize her anyway. "About that!" she stated. Her hands were in her pockets as she stopped just at the edge of the light from the fire. Close enough that they would see her, far enough away that she could draw the Justice Buster if necessary. "I get why Finnigan gotta stay in the shadows. Why do he want you guys to do the same?" She could confront them about keeping on stealing, but that could wait. She kind of wanted to know this, if she was going to get an edgeon Finnigan.

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GM

 

The two young women nearly jumped out of their skin. It was that kind of night, that kind of street. In credit to them, they rallied quickly - perhaps to save face with each other. 

 

"Whoa! Don't jump up on us like that!"

 

"The hero!"

 

They paused, wondering what to say. Not for long, and not well either, for they rambled on, tongue loose with anxiety. 

 

"Because we are the Fingers! Finnigan's Fingers!"

 

"Its best to work at night, anyway. People don't see you so good"

 

All correct but vapid answers so far. 

 

"I guess that's just how Finnigan operates. He don't like the sunshine" was the more illuminating answer. "And, well, we just kind of fell in line with that. Finnigan helped us, but he is...ahhh...twitchy....paranoid...."

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Didn't like sunshine. Robin supressed a groan. She should've guessed. And she should've made some UV-light canon or something like that. They do stuff like that all the times on television and in the comics, and if he's some kind of vampire-zombie guy, then Finnigan would have to be affected by that. Really, she should have thought of it.

 

Again, it stung a bit that they just called her "the hero", but hey, at least they recognized her for what she was. "Sorry, couldn't resist. And I already told you last time: Call me Justice." She stayed a bit away. Again, there was no reason to activate the full suit before necessary, and she didn't want them to try something again. They had proven to be combative. "Any ideas why Finnigan is paranoid like that? I want to understand what's going on here, I really do. It doesn't seem like a healthy relationship. A guy like that, commanding a bunch of kids like you. I get that you don't want to get into the system or something like that, but all of this, its just gonna lead to trouble. Just look at the Gas Man. He'd be fine with breaking all your bones. What if they call someone worse in on you? Its not exactly stealing to get food and survive that you're doing here."

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GM

 

Both Orange and Green shrugged. Paranoia was, it seemed, one of those ground in personality traits, as far as they could tell. 

 

"He don't exactly speak about his past. Or his condition" they explained. 

 

"We always have trouble. One way or another" said Orange. "We even like trouble. At least its on our terms!"

 

"Yeah! Screw ths system!" said Green, giving a rebellious fist to the air. Her T-Shirt said the same. Except it didn't use the word "Screw". 

 

"Look, if we wanted a lecture, we would be at the church. Or at school or something" complained Orange. "So blah blah blah, be a good member of society, blah blah blah, nine to five blah blah blah education!"

 

"Blah blah blah" mimicked Green. 

 

"So good luck with Finnigan and...well, whatever you gonna do...." she added. 

 

"We ain't gonna stop you" shrugged Orange. 

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Robin really couldn't supress her frown. She tried, but no luck. These two were a lost cause, it seemed. Nothing would get them out of this short of a better opportunity. Actually... that might be an idea there, for the future. Something to think about, at least. "Alright, suit yourself. Just don't do anything that'll make me come down on you. Or someone worse." She let the implication of the last part hang a bit. The Gas Man, sure, but if they kept this up to the same degree as before, he would probably be the least of their worries.

 

Instead, she continued into the building, down into the basement. It was much more sparsely lit, but for now, Robin kept from using the night goggles. She might have better use for them later, if Finnigan kept to the shadows still. So, down into the basement she went, still moving carefully. The two thieves above might have alerted the rest, but she would deal with that when the time come. For now, down she went, into Finnigan's homefield.

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GM

 

The building was predictably run down, and long-shadowed in the setting sun. It looked barely more stable than the other one that had collapsed with Justice's blaster and the Gas Man's gas. For now, at least, it seemed to hold up. 

 

Justice was silent and slow, her agility not in question. As she entered the building she saw no fingers, but Finnigan she saw. Dressed in his ragged suit, with a ragged hat, counting dimes and nickels in the light of dusk. His viisage now was of the slender tall man she had initially met - true, with an unusual physique, but not the appearance he had subsequently taken, that of skin and bones and little (if anything) else. 

 

"Good evening...." he said, without looking up, his voice raspy and faint. 

 

"I see in the dark and shadows quite well....Justice!"

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Well, so much for being sneaky. She had barely spotted Finnigan before he noticed her too. It was kind of weird how he was counting money like that. Sure, kept the mind sharp and all that, and if they were stealing, and he wanted a cut from all of the thieves... Well, made sense. Still seemed well beyond creepy, though.

 

"Evenin', Finnigan." She put on a friendly tone. Maybe they could still talk things out. "Just had to make my way to you. Didn't want to slip on anything." They couldn't all see that well in the dark, after all. She approached, while keeping her distance. No Gas Man to distract him or drop random gas grenades now, so maybe they could just have a small talk. Figure things out. No shooting or fighting.

 

He looked different, though. More alive, less like a zombie. Just slender, instead of like he was dying. Did the light have something to do with it? Or just if he exhausted himself? It would be nice to figure out. "How have you been?" Start out nice, ask the harder questions later. That'd be good, yeah. Robin really hoped so, at least.

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GM

 

"I have been resplendent...." said Finnigan, savouring every word and giving her a toothy smile. The coins in his hand glinted and clinked as he played with them. His fingers were long and nimble, noted Justice. He handled them with great dexterity. 

 

With a flick of his hand, they mysteriously dissapeared from view. A masterpiece of sleight of hand, presumably. Possibly magic. 

 

"And how have you been? Dispending Justice in your own...unilateral....manner, I presume? A gun on one hand, a bible in the other? Like the wild west cowboy, righting wrongs?"

 

"Alas, I seem to be wronging rights...."

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Finnigan was even creepier than last time. He was clearly feeling much better. Maybe he had been affected by the Gas Man's gas bombs after all, even if he hadn't seemed like it. He was quite a bit more insulting this time, too. He tried to be, at least, but Robin actually liked the wild west comparision, even if it was clearly meant to be derisive. 

 

She still put on a smile. He was wronging rights, yeah. He admitted it before she had even asked the question. She palmed her phone in her hand, inside a pocket in her hoodie. She had the program ready to run, if Finnigan was going to cause trouble. "Sure, been dispensing all the justice." No reason to tell him about the flu. "And yeah, that's the word. You haven't exactly kept your word, have you?"

 

This was probably were the fight was going to start, if it was a tv show. Maybe try and talk first? "So, now what? You've pretty clearly shown that I can't trust you. Even if you and the kids don't feel like stopping, you're still hurting people." There had to be another way, but it wasn't like she could force others to change. And if she couldn't, well... she had to stop them. 

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GM

 

"I didn't profess to be master of my fingers" replied Finnigan standing up slowly, to his full and exceptional height. Even now, whilst he looked human and had meat on his bones, he had a thin, beanpole like build. The old top hat he was wearing was augmenting his appearance considerably. 

 

It was a very tall top hat!

 

"I persuaded them. I implored them. And, I believe I had partial influence, for they have stolen less. But I taught them to defy authority, and that includes, to some extent, mine own. I am not a tyrant, I am a teacher..."

 

With the flick of the wrist, the coins appeared in his palm again. 

 

"I take a little for myself. You do not see me draped in velvet and gold, do you? You see no stacks of dollar bills? Just dimes and nickels in hand!"

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He kept to the fact that he didn't control the kids, that he had taught them not to trust authority. And just why was that? Was it just because of his sickness, or was there something more behind it? Something else that was behind his reason for being like this? For doing these things? Finnigan was not just out for survival, he had made sure to tell her that. He wanted more, which, really, was part of the definition of a bad guy. You take something from someone else to better yourself, without their consent. 

 

What did it matter how much he took for himself? He had still taught these kids how to become thieves. It wasn't just the practical lessons, either. He had taught them a philosophy. Robin was starting to realize just how dangerous Finnigan might be, and not just because of his curse. No matter what he said, no matter what the reasons he had told her, he had preyed on these kids, and he had taught them to be like him.

 

"I heard some of your kids talking on the way in here. Why do you keep them in the shadows?" It wouldn't matter to comment on the amount of wealth he had shown her. Just because she couldn't see it, didn't mean it was not there. 

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