He needed somewhere to crash for the night. Somewhere comfortable than his own home for a change. Usually, he would go to the bar and find some vulnerable person he can manipulate and charm his way into staying the night with them, but he didn’t feel like doing that today. He didn’t feel like doing anything that he would normally do to gain that. So, what other options he had left if he didn’t want to use his charm? The power of guilt. He was going to put himself in a bad situation to where the other person would have no choice but to bring him around or risk losing it all.
Eating on some chips he’d brought from the store (It was only 99 cent. It wasn’t hard for him to get a dollar from some stranger to purchase it. Plus, you can find pennies on the ground to cover the little tax fee, because no one really cares for pennies like that. He used to be homeless, so salvaging for change is something he has the patience for), Scar was aimlessly walking his way down the street. He managed to see some car heading down the road. From his perspective, it seemed like they were going at least a few miles per hour past the speed limit. This was his opportunity. He made a sharp turn in his walk to casually walk across the street. Putting on his best acting performance, he dropped his chips, turning towards the car to hold out his hands like he had the magic powers to stop them. ”Whoa, whoa. STOP!” Even if the person managed to stop an inch before hitting him, Scar purposely put on a show—a slightly realistic one—to make it seem like the car made contact to hit him good enough for him to flop on the hood of the car and roll off down onto the pavement. Tragic. Now, it’s time to play the “woe me, injured” act. He done found his victim of the day.