14221/The Hunt

The Hunt
Date of Scene:	24 March 2022
Location:	Deep in Central Park - NY
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Kit Killovarras, Sinister

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Kit Killovarras has posed:
The park is nowhere for the timid, not at this hour and any local could tell you that, but there is the occasional out-of-townie type who insist that it's a beautiful place to stroll or the occasional, overly-brave or overly-confident local. It's these types who are the perfect prey for some and if he were so inclined? The yeen could prey on them, easily... But it's a different target he hunts for, as usual.

Clad in his typical attire, dark hoodie pulled up to conceal his features, baggy enough cloths that his legs aren't obvious, but something is different than a normal night. His tail isn't tucked into his pantleg like it would be if he were out and about and somewhere under that hood of his is the glint of steel from a reinforced cage muzzle.

His hoodie is noticeably looser on him too and though it's not readily apparent visibly, that fact might be because his entire torso is wrapped in bandaging, tight enough to keep his fur in place and down and usually, tight enough to keep the damage his magic can do to him to a minimum if he needs to push it a little.

Sinister has posed:
The sky is not full of stars. It makes the night a bit less dark than it otherwise is in the city, as the ambient light of New York creates a somewhat sick pall overhead. You wouldn't know that there was a figure in the sky though, watching over the city in a silent patrol to his own purpose. Sinister is watching tonight, no human disguise, no alteration to moon-pale skin, pupil-less eyes or red diamond in the forehead and he flies solely by the power of the mind. It's quieter, by far.

The classic look is also prevalent, in the black and dark blue biosteel, multi-ribboned cloak with its high collar and gauntlets.

It's possible that he can feel and 'see' every single mind, nepharious or otherwise down there in the park and might be looking for something specific.

Kit Killovarras has posed:
While his movement might be silent, his mind certainly isn't. The yeen is analyzing everything around himself, every scent, every sound, practically every /vibration/ around him! There are telltale signs, the sound of a click from a blade being secretly unfolded, the way the person he's taken notice of is trying their damndest to be quiet?

He's hunting this person, listening to their gait, listening to their breathing, even their scent gets taken into account for the alcohol on their breath.

It isn't subtle when he brushes past this person, intentionally brushing against them just a little too much, calling the attention of the other hunters intended victim. It isn't subtle either when he looks directly at the other hunters prey, letting them see his glowing eyes, his animalistic face. He wants to startle them and it works. After all, how often does one really expect to see a black-clad 'werewolf' with glowing eyes at this hour in the park?

She runs, like so many others would do and when the other hunter realizes what happens? The real hunt swiftly gets under way.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's perception focuses, up there in the sky, familiarity tingles at his awareness and he turns his gaze without error to the shadows beneath bewintered trees that haven't yet remembered what spring is. Silently, he sinks down, mentally masked, quiet as the grave, until feet touch down just above the gravel and grass -- literally walking on air and thus, silence maintained. He shadows this, observations being made both of techniques and the mind that is screaming its catalogue of intent at him loud and clear.

It's a study, after all, seeing how far one has come, experiencing whether such has yet become an addition. A need. Psychology suggests that it likely has.

Arms fold over his chest, a 'see me not' kind of mental illusion making him unremarked by the 'prey' as much as is possible to be. This bears watching.

Kit Killovarras has posed:
The would-be mugger panics and fight or flight kicks in.. Flight? Nope, fight! He swings the folding knife he'd been readying, aiming at the yeen but he goes wide-eyed when the blade simply stops, caught by Kit's paw or more accurately, by some kind of energy field that forms over his palm, trailing the movements of his hand to create a nigh impenetrable field in it's wake.

When the blade connects to the field and the man is caught off guard, the yeens eyes flash and tendrils of energy flash across one of his arms for a moment as the knife is jerked out of the mans hand and embedded with a fair bit of force into the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Go home.." the yeen murmurs, staring at the man who, at this point, has likely figured out he's out of his league. "You haven't hurt anyone yet.. Go home and find a better way." He's giving him every opportunity he can to leave, to forget this ever happened.

Sinister has posed:
Oh so faint, incredibly personal. "Oh, that hardly ever works. No, stop, don't do it..." Sinister's head tilts, the ribons of his cloak sliding aside over an invisible chair as he sits down comfortably on nothing at all, attention upon the switchblade imbedded in the tree. The location is marked, the energy being put to bear in a shield of sorts. All of that -is- promising, indeed.

An opportune moment, he drifts closer, sat like a prince on an invisible pallatine as he nears the scene, every inch of him poised, lazily controlled and apparently, oh-so-slightly amused. That should probably be a warning, but most wouldn't know why, or think to take it. "Oh, don't let me stop you. Have at it, gladiatorial entertainment is terribly exciting, particularly when the odds are outrageously stacked." He smiles, leans forward to rest elbows on his knees. "You had him on the run, I'm sure Jack..."

Kit Killovarras has posed:
One creature with magical powers? The would-be mugger might have tried to take that on, though his mind is already racing, but with the psycho looking clown in a fancy metal onsie appearing? Yeah, he bolts. Kit just watches the man panic and finally take flight, his own nose wiggling slightly as he takes note of the mans scent. He'll be watching for him later to ensure he doesn't do anything else.

"Thanks for the assist.." the yeen says with a little chuckle and a glance to Sinister, tilting his head slightly as he asks, "Stalking the park or just checking up on me?" with a hint of curiosity in his tone. His mind has quieted down, almost like a switch was flipped and the animal side of him has been momentarily turned off or tuned out.

Sinister has posed:
"Oh, I wouldn't call it stalking. Stalking involves looking menacing and moving around like you've got a target. I would say I was... hmm... taking the opportunity to listen. I can do that with considerably more Prestige not to mention a little prestidigitation," -- a snap of the fingers and the ribbons of his cloak fan and curl about his legs, stiff as swords -- "Costumed posturing. It's a vice, you know. Every now and again, I need to be villainous at the world, just to remind it to leave me alone when I'm being quiet. Throws them off my scent." One eye flickers dimmer, as if he winked.

With a loose wristed gesture, he motions around the scene. "You have been honing how to make an impression. I'm not sure I agree with the muzzle, but we come by our costumery on our own experience. If you're going to cage your teeth, own it."

Kit Killovarras has posed:
There's a little bit of a chuckle and a slight shrug from the teenage yeen as he tps at the side of the muzzle, "More for my own protection." he says with a tilt of his head, showing off the reinforcements to the metal. "Too many nerve endings in my muzzle. Besides, I don't need my teeth to be a threat."

He hasn't missed the comment about stalking, though he does just sort of ignore it. The mention of being 'villainous at the world' though gets another little chuckle and a thin smile from the yeen. "I still don't get why." he says with a little shrug. "The whole 'villain' thing, I don't get it. I mean, some people are going to hate us no matter what, why give more of them a reason to? Or validate the idiots who think that, because we're different, we're dangerous?"

Sinister has posed:
"That line probably ought to be a motivational poster somewhere," Sinister muses, lips pursing, then grinning to himself. "I suppose I do understand where that comes from. I am wearing a shell that's harder than kevlar," he taps his armour with a fingernail and a soft dink. "As to the notion of villainy, I think we operate at different ends of the scale there. I would put you firmly under the heading of teenage vigilante. It's a definite niche market in a world where the cops don't know their ass from their elbow."

He drifts a little closer, then with a single raised index finger, the flick-knife darts out of the tree it was imbedded in and settles to turning and twisting in the air infront of him. "Force manipulation is a tricky thing, isn't it? Extremely versatile, but the energies involved can be problematic."

Kit Killovarras has posed:
The word 'Vigilante' gets a response from the yeen almost immediately, but it's little more than a flick of an ear and a little shrug. He watches the knife when it's pulled out, studying the movement of it and perhaps, the power behind it before he looks to Sinister and tilts his head again.

"My guess is it depends on how you manage to do it. In my case, it doesn't take much effort at all unless the item involved is heavier than what I can generally handle. Though it does get much more confusing when you're having to manipulate multiple objects at once."

Sinister has posed:
It certainly isn't magic that powers the telekinesis, that would set Kit's senses to bing-bing-binging. "I imagine so," Glancing beyond Kit to the nearest service road where a garbage truck is collecting for the day, Sinister hums a soft tune, 'Half a pound of tuppeny rice, half a pound of treacle, that's the way the money goes...' ***CREAK*** goes the seven ton dumpster as it lifts from the ground. Something about it sets off alarms, probably because the compactor is confused about its weight distribution. The city worker that was taking a quick leak at the sliproad hurries back to his floating dumpster truck just before it bounces back onto its wheels.

"Multiple objects at once can create a kinetic storm. It can be quite the sight when it happens ouside of control." He muses. "Why the level of contriction about your torso, by the by?"

Kit Killovarras has posed:
Kit gives a glance down at his torso for a moment before he gives a little smile. "My magic has a physical component to it. So, when I use it.." There is a sudden build-up of energy and for those who might be able to feel it? countless tiny tendrils of raw energy would flow from him into a few objects in the surrounding area. A few stones, some discarded trash or bottles, cans, whatever is loose around the area, lifting them into the air with relative ease. To the eye, there's nothing causing them to move however.

"The energy that flows through me tends to make most of the muscles in my body tighten.. I find the bandages help keep my skin from splitting open as quickly under the stress of it."

What he's doing isn't telekinesis in the strictest sense, it's not simply the power of the mind that causes it, but it has a very similar effect to be certain. "As for what I can pick up? Well.." he gives a glance to the truck in the distance and admits, "I couldn't do that.. Not yet at least."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's eyes narrow a tad. "The channelled energy harnessed by your will creates titanic tetanus reaction in you? Now that -is- interesting. I expect you won't be ablt to move past your own physical capability until you can release the tetanus reaction. There might be something that I could do about that. It would be quite fascinating I expect," Matter of fact from Sinister, he strokes a hand over his beard, tapping the tip of his chin with it. "My ability to move mountains is solely dependant on the amount of concentration and amplification I can exert. I have found though, that the macro is not nearly as useful as the micro." He leaves that statement hanging, held for the court of public opinion to decide upon.

"Have you been doing this..." he gestures around the park "...consistently of late?"