| A Game of Cat and Mouse: The Felon, the Stranger, The Civilian, and the Firefly | ||
|---|---|---|
| |
The Main Entrance to the Mabase City Police Department's local precinct is nearly bust into by the frantic nature of the man pushing when he should be pulling, zigging when he should be zagging, and undoubtedly causes an uproar of immense levels as he makes it inside and is recognized. JR crashes to the floor in a partial heap, rough hands going to his head; he cannot believe he's doing this, but what other choice does he have? "Hurry up and arrest me, damn it! You have to protect me!"
When someone bursts into the entrance of the department, she hops out of her chair in surprise, and her bright blue eyes go wide, then blink twice. She doesn't recognize the man, but he's afraid, and she recognizes that. "A-are you alright?" She starts to ask, before officers converge on the scene, and she steps back to let them work, putting her hands down in front of her and trying to not be in the way, which probably means moving to a different area. Well, whatever it is, it's probably under control now. If Chief Rayne has an unhealthy obsession with personnel files, she might know that Ami has written some code for the the anonymous internet tip-sites that sometimes assist the MCPD, but that was independent consultant work, and several years ago, to boot. The woman hasn't exactly kept in touch.
The faintest flicker of shadow creeps into the station entrance from the outside, although no doors open, while the commotion provides distraction. All the same, the shadow is exactly that and its movement may be noticed in the corner of the eye fleetingly. It wavers, like a flame in the wind, only with almost no illumination or definition. Its presence blends in with natural soft shadows that are found indoors and, for the most part, likely goes fully unnoticed.
"You two, go with them," Rayne says to the pair of the TASK veterans. She stands up properly and looks over the entrances, not really noticing Ami at all. No, she doesn't remember the details about setting up that board... starting up the MCPD was a whirlwind of a nightmare of activity and problems and logistics that she quite simply forgot the names and faces of... pretty much all of the contractors involved. She also doesn't notice, however, the strange shadow moving about, either.
"..." Something's wrong, but she's can't put her finger on it. Instead, she checks on the others that were seated with her, making sure they're alright. An elderly woman looks like she was spooked just like Ami was, and the young lady makes polite conversation with her and tries to distract her and calm her down. It's not much, but it's something she can do.
Ever feel the cold hand of Death brush fingers against the side of your neck? Get that uncontrollable shiver that some call 'having your grave walked upon'? Ever go out for a hike only to round a corner and come face to face with an apex predator? Have you ever attended a party only to have your favorite celebrity star make a guest appearance? ...ever get the feeling that something is very terribly wrong? The front entrance opens yet again and another tall figure steps in from off the street, but there is no urgency or rashness to the simple action. Just like any other person that would enter, yes. Only, there's something about the presence this one gives off that might immediately show an amount of cause for JR's current state of mind, but that can't be all of the story. Calmly, arms behind his lower back and hands resting loosely against one another, a man in fancy military-style dress and a cat's face walks in with a scary level of confidence that borders on smugness. Each footstep is deliberate, his path simple; he has no need to discuss matters with reception. His amber eyes don't spot the one he's looking for in the entry lobby, so he must be deeper in. His path passes by Ami so closely that his cape may even brush against her. Pausing mid-step, this figure turns to look to the young girl with an inquisitive yet commanding gaze. He clearly is looking for somebody. Need he have to say the words to ask? Even a flicker of the eyes would do to give it away.
"Good day." Her tone is polite and unshaken, no quiver of either fear or indignation in it. She just waits for his gaze to pass her by. She's not important, after all. And he's here on business that doesn't concern her. But she didn't shy away, for whatever that's worth. Instead, once the new man's gaze passes her by, she'll get a better look at him. There's nothing better to do while waiting, after all. Except perhaps working on that alternative solve for the Riemann Hypothesis... No, now probably isn't the best time.
Not too far behind the Wanted Man being herded along toward Booking and Processing is a flicker of movement more. The shadowy phenomenon, like some bizarre glitch in the lighting of reality, simply continues to follow JR. It is not actively trying to hide, but its very nature of being allows quite the natural camouflage. The only hint that something about this corner-of-the-eye movement is more than it might (almost) appear is that this shadow, when spotted at the correct angle, has eyes. The cat person seems to linger his stare for a moment, as if reading the girl like a book, before turning away to face and meet the one that approaches. "Prompt service. Good. I'm here to collect." It's a very simple thing said, but it's also very contradictory to what Johnston said regarding his pursuer. Now, Johnston is worth a nice penny for sure. Perhaps all the commotion is a bit over the top after all.
When the chief explains that bounties aren't processed in the precinct, however, Ami gets that unsettled feeling in her stomach. She didn't know that, but a bounty hunter certainly would. She doesn't tense up, exactly, but she's watching intently. Maybe too intently - most people would look away or try not to get involved.
"I'm here for the man." The style of military garb may be foreign, but it's authentic. Nothing too strange for the types that show up, certainly. He holds himself with a posture that reflects an amount of importance, true, but not with the rigidity of a seasoned veteran that has worked their way up ranks. The stranger's form is lanky, yet expressive. "If you could bring me the man now it would save both of us...time." One of the catman's hands rests upon his hip as he delivers this- Well, it's not a request. A command? It's not imposing and is cordially delivered save for the emphasis of the last word of that sentence. His other hand gestures neutrally, "Or, if you are too busy with mundanity, I'll go collect him myself, at the expense of the professional service provided thus far."
The young lady takes a deep breath, worried that things will not go well, and turns to the elderly woman next to her. She says something quiet, and the woman blinks at her once, before standing to her feet and starting for the door slowly. Ami offers her an arm, and helps walk her out of the precinct. Whatever she said, it got the woman moving. There's probably nothing bad going to happen. Probably. But if there is, best to minimize civilians in the danger zone. Unknowingly, she's taking herself further away from the 'poor man' already in custody.
Cocking his hips a bit just before pulling his hand from his hip, the cat person's arms cross. "Still, if you have processes to undergo and you can guarantee his well-being, I would be willing to wait a short while until you could then deliver him to me." The catman turns to allow his gaze to roam the reception and front area. He doesn't stare this woman down by any means, but there's simply something that might surface as inclination or glimmer of intuition that anything this person learns is damning and, at present, he's having a very good look around. So much so that he doesn't even stand still. He begins to walk away while examining the establishment and the workers present and even wipes a finger over the rim of some furnishings to check for how much dust has accumulated. "His maintained health is important. What would happen were he to...'expire'...while in your custody?" A tap of fingers to his chest emphasizes his next few words, "He has a bad heart, you know. Stress will do that to you."
Once she has the woman outside, she quietly but firmly suggests that it's a good time to take in a frozen yogurt from one of the vendors at the nearby fountain, and then turns back to look at the precinct once she's sure the woman isn't heading anywhere near it. She pulls a small palmtop computer out of her purse, which looks like fairly old school technology compared to the modern day cell phones and even occasional cyborgs that can be found in Mabase. But it's not really technology at all, or at least not by any modern definition of the term. Crafted, powered, and accessed by magic, the device can give her a wealth of information when paired with... The thin-framed spectacles that Ami pulls out of her purse and slips onto her face. A more subtle-approach to her old magical visor, the glasses still do the same trick, analyzing what she looks at and passing the information to her computer. She gives the precinct a quick look over from outside, trying to determine any unusual magical influences that might be happening inside. She's lived here for several years, so the regular magical hustle and bustle expected of the police station is familiar enough that she's hoping she'll be able to spot anything new and unusual. Besides the talking cat, of course.
While that says very little, it may provide a little context. It might seem that this Sidran aims to hire the Wanted Man, although that would make wonder to what end. Rather, the fuzzy man continues to stroll; Rayne can choose to keep up or not, both on foot and in conversation. It's rude. There's no two ways about it. He clearly presents himself as somebody that owns his surroundings. This cat person, as some observers may note, has the glow of the arcane, but is, at the moment, very much 'unpowered'. While his personality may be cause for professional annoyance, nothing of his form or his aura is keyed for hostility. Not right now. However, there's something else of note. The shadow that has been completely overlooked thus far has followed Johnston Reynolds to the point that it is now in the same room. Nothing comes of it. It's simply there, but in a magical sense it isn't there. Or nothing is there. It's not a matter of shadow so much as a matter of...nothing. And -that- isn't normal. Wait... Just outside the precinct, near one of the other entrances, is another such anomaly. And over there. And... It's like a scene out of a Hitchcock-directed film. There are MANY such small blips of nothingness nearby, all unmoving, all facing the police building, all watching. All waiting. But, what are they? "Now that you know, will you retrieve the man for me now?" It's an actual question. A simple question, but something about it would sit unwell with anybody, perception or intuition removed. While it does not smack of terseness, there is something- No. No, actually, it is presented as something nicer than it is. It /is/ a curt question. "I wouldn't want to waste more of our time."
The girl swallows nervously before heading back in - nothing bad appears to be happening yet. Maybe it won't ... but she needs to find a way to let the Chief know without tipping her hand. She leaves the glasses on, keying them so that she can at least spot the spots of nothingness in her vision, even as she puts the palmtop away. She walks back past Lynx, and clears her throat. "Beg your pardon." She glances to Rayne, wishing now that she had done a better job of maintaining contact with the police. "...Chief." She nods to the woman, and then calmly, almost imperceptibly, jerks her head back towards deeper in the station and purses her lips. She looks serious, and doesn't break eye contact with Rayne for longer than a casual glance. Hopefully that will be enough, for now.
Suddenly and without sound or warning, a blur of shadow streaks through the air to impact JR's face as the Wanted Man sits there amongst other officers in the process of being recorded. He had only just begun to calm down to a point where he might be able to reveal details as to why he is so panicked out of his mind in this situation despite being quite the badass in every other facet of life. The shadowy thing has a vague resemblance of a housecat and is about the same size, if a little larger, and has a manifested appearance akin to that of black flame. It is not fire, however. Contact with it does not cause immediate harm of any kind. The flickering forelegs grip the man's face along the jaws and sink what must be claws deep into flesh. The shock and sudden pain of this attack leave the man yelling. His arms jerk to react, but they are secured. His yell is quickly muffled, though, as the creature begins to force its head into the mouth of the man, but there's nothing to grab in resistance! It's shadowy, but nonphysical, and any attempt to touch it would pass right through. It, however, seems to be able to interact physically just fine. The man's jaw dislocates with an audible pop and he rocks in his chair violently from the intrusion. He needs assistance -right now-, because every half second that passes allows the unnatural creature to crawl deeper into the man's mouth. The surprise alone might be more than enough time to have the man's throat bulge from it all.
Outside, Rayne's pace picks up at the call and the sound of the three gunshots. All activity has ended in the reception area at the sound of the gunshots, and most of the station as well. "Damnit!" shouts Rayne. "Security, I want the lobby and interrogation rooms analyzed together with timestamps! I want to know the timing on that attack!" She's assuming it's going to line up almost perfectly with her rejecting that psycho. She breaks into an outright run after saying that and quickly makes her way to the processing room to see just what's still going on in there.
It's not that bullets don't affect the /whatever/ it is, but they certainly have little difficulty punching clean through on a path not slowed in the direction so let loose. Whether the sickeningly-muffled yell from the man being choked is a response to the gunshots or pain induced by damage from the creature is unclear, the shadow certainly flickers before redoubling its assertive insertion. "Glk!" is the only sound that comes from Ironfist before he can longer make use of his throat at all and the skin on his face begins to go pale. The stun baton-like weapon has a very different effect. While it does not find physical resistance or impact, it does find discharge. Only the most scrutinous eye amidst the chaos could possibly notice a very important detail in this: It wasn't contact with the flickering darkness that prompts an electric result, but the barest touch against something -within- the darkness of the creature that faintly glows, such as a core or faint ember. The next few seconds become greatly intense as much as they are strange and unnerving. The creature, which, while dark, is mostly naught more than a shadow; it, however, notably becomes more opaque at this attack...immediately as the discharge travels through its body and into the man. At the very least, he stops thrashing about as he becomes dazed and his head rolls back to present the dangerous blackness half-buried. Ironfist passes out. Any further attacks made on the creature seem to have much more physical results. It does not halt its attempt to crawl down the man's throat, but it has been mildly impeded. Meanwhile, the cat person has left the precinct and is on his way, wherever that may be. Whatever strange creatures may be about, he does not look toward them or interact with them in any way. Rather, his path takes him not too far away to where a traveling doner kebab truck is temporarily paused. He doesn't even get the chance to look over the menu and order something before gunshots are heard coming from the station. The vendor interjects with expletives and hastily closes the window to find somewhere else marginally safer to sell food and leaves the military official, amongst a couple others, behind. The others soon disperse, too, leaving the cat guy to frown in thought while staring. "Did you shoot him?" He visibly sighs before shaking his head. "He had better be safe after such a refusal. I won't tolerate incompetence," he says to nobody else but himself.
The primary difference between normal people and Ami is that normal people just watch helplessly, and Ami acts. While she can't do much from out here, she concentrates rather hard, to the point that she almost bursts a few vessels, and attempts to freeze the 'core' of the creature - from rather far away. Maybe if she was transformed it would actually be possible to consider this a proper attack - maybe. But from this distance and in her civilian form, it's actually a minor miracle that anything happens at all. If the creature is vulnerable to such things, a light layer of frost begins to form on the core - something to further slow it down and perhaps even make it just that little bit more smashable. It's not a lot, but it's something. Of course... she COULD transform. But she doesn't, for some reason. Presumably it's a good one - a man is in serious danger, even if Rayne is likely about to have it under control.
This withdrawal process is much faster than the horrific act of whatever it was trying to do, certainly. It provides great opportunity for the confident marksman to squeeze off three controlled shots -- perfect training and by the book. These bullets do not seem to merely fly through the shape. They... The rounds enter, cleanly, before exiting with nearly no velocity to simply tumble to the floor. There are no entrance or exit wounds or -- well, if there are, the thing is too dark to really discern such. It's not natural, whatever it is. Its withdrawal from throat and jaws gains more haste, a scramble, as clawed appendages offer no care or caution to the already scarred face of the Wanted Man so passed out and motionless. During this, outside forces seem to be offering magical assistance. This thing, whatever it is, is very resilient and unmistakably dangerous. Its internals face a bit of altering focus. There /is/ an effect. To what extent is hard to tell. For a moment, at the least, it is quite possibly a little bit weaker. The creature's face finds nothing but darkness within the tight confines of the gastric entrance and is ill prepared to retaliate to the aggression lain upon it. Battering, piercing, electrifying, and frosting... A solid and fiery blow is rendered against it in its weakened and damaged state from the leader of the peacekeepers. It is neither glancing or questionable. It seriously hurts. The creature's sight once again fills its glowing eyes to reveal the room, those within it, and the woman nearby swinging a blade. Rayne is gifted with the horrifying image of the shadow's face welling up into a twisted distortion of a face -- nobody's face in particular -- but of one neither feline nor human. Its features stretch and wind and wrinkle into a brief yet powerful display of a laugh. A silent mockery. Something altogether terrible and gleefully sinister. Something...wrong. The cleaving blade passes through it with the feel of any amount of resistance one might expect to find cutting through a block of mud. The creature fades away into the hint of purple afterimage before drifting away on an absent breeze. Did it die? Was it alive? Did it escape? Does it matter? There is no trace of it in the station. There are no traces of such things anywhere else nearby, either.
Yay? After her heart rate and breath return to normal, the young woman with the blue hair pulls out her palmtop and starts making some adjustments. Ami had been able 'see' these things, but they were the very opposite of easy to track. That's something that needs fixing. And so begins the one-handed typing. It's faster than seems plausible for a portable device, but that kind of thing is possible when you have actual keys instead of capacitive touchscreens.
Meanwhile, at the reception counter that Ami now finds herself at, there's a little old lady that... doesn't seem to have even noticed the gunshots. She looks with a bored expression at teenager and with a gravelly voice, says, "What can I do for ya, honey?"
JR's heart is still. The medic called in will no doubt announce a state of emergency considering the criminal's state of health and begin administering chest compressions. It's not good and time is very much of the essence. Somebody will have to inform the Chief, perhaps, if hospitalization is okayed, for what that entails. It's pretty grim to have such a Wanted Man that has been in hiding for so long to finally be turned in, if even by his own choice, only to not have a chance to face trial. Outside, not that far away, the tall figure of that cat person observes with a half-scrunched muzzle what one can make of anything by looking at a building. It's annoying to not know whether or not the man he sought to bring into his own custody is alive or not; this is an annoyance that he wears like a suit. Turning away, he instead wanders, hands behind his back, closer to the fountain nearby and slowly walks about it while trailing a few fingertips over its surface.
"To loot them of their fare" "Might best instead be spent in threes" "For two beside to share."
"The winds begin to die" "And no one else will ever know" "The truth behind the lie."
"For what good of the pair" "When all you need is sharing FATE" "Such as the olden Fair."
"The Record you espy" "Needs asking more to visit low" "Or kiss it all goodbye.
It's at about this time that Rayne yells out that the PD needs a magic analysis expert. This actually causes the girl to cut off her speech and blink twice in rapid succession. "... Er..." So she's the only one who saw? Well, that changes her priorities. She clears her throat, straightens her vest, and tries to look important and authoritative. It's cute. So a mixed success, then. "...To report about the opening for a magic analysis expert? That the Chief was just yelling about?" In her experience, you just don't get such a clear opening very often - you should probably take it.
The old woman at the counter, whose name tag proclaims her to be 'Doris', blinks slowly. "Yeah, I heard her yell it too, dearie. She reported it herself pretty loudly." No emotion in her voice at all. Just a sense of boredom. Some people freak out when the action happens. Some people rush towards it. Others... just shrug and complain later about how it interrupted their work. "That what you were really here for first?" she asks, clearly not buying that's why Ami initially walked up. She shrugs, though, and says, "If you got a card, I'll take it for ya. I'll send her an E-mail, but I'm not so sure she's in her best mind right now." She did have a sword out still when she walked past. And was yelling.
Inside, however, at the exact timestamp as the cat person turning to head toward the doner kebab vendor just after leaving the building, an indiscernible dark streak, barely of any definition can be somewhat made out before Ironfist is attacked...by nothing. The officers react, some TASK members respond promptly and with force including gunfire and a stun device...at nothing. Ironfist spends this time in a panic, mouth wide open as if yelling, up until the point where that stun-device hits. There might be a problem with the recording, because that moment causes an error artifact to show up (from any possible angle provided). The entire section of the recording remotely near JR's face is black. Not black as in recording something black, but black as in it recorded nothing at all. Just a blocky blotch of nothingness. Each attack seems to do nothing to this patch of unrecorded footage, save for one. The Chief's final blow shows something else. Just before contact is made, for what would equate to only a couple frames, there is an imprint of some kind that doesn't look right -- it doesn't look the same as it was physically observed, but there's a hint of a ghostly afterimage that smacks of ghost hunter videos catching faces in the reflection of glass windows. There's a face there...and then there isn't. Is it a face? It's /something/, for sure. Two things even: It's a mystery. And, it's also a problem.
"...This is *urgent*. It's about what just happened." The young lady furrows her brows, and adopts an overly concerned look - which is actually very easy for her as that's one of her default states of being. "And I very much don't think she'd want me to wait until a better time." Actually, in many ways Rayne would probably prefer that, but Ami is thinking of the information's urgency, not how much Rayne would like the stupid to end. Poor Rayne.
Doris just looks at Ami for about five seconds in silence before saying, "Okay, Honey, I'll give her a call." She fumbles with the phone at her station - a landline model, yes, with many buttons for many extensions. "Oh, good, you picked up," she says. "There's a young lady here that says she might have some information about what happened just now. She's insisting she wants to talk to you as soon as possible." Rayne's voice can even be heard from where Ami is standing(if not quite intelligible), and Doris is holding the phone a few inches from her ear. Apparently the Chief is still in a yelling mood. Doris looks back up to Ami again and says, "Okay, dearie, she said she wants to speak to you, but just try not to piss her off even more, okay?"
How bad. Could it. Possibly. Be? You know those moments when celebrity worship, naivete, and starry-eyed idealism are rewarded? This is probably not going to be one of those. | |
Enable comment auto-refresher