What one field lacks, the other one lend
Hyper-Senses: standard (rank 1)
My thoughts are interrupted as the hoof beats pass, making way for a new sound. Footsteps, four sets, all walking toward the tavern, maybe a quarter mile up the trail. Voices accompany them, all masculine and jovial, recounting tales of last night's antics as they prepare to make more tonight. One of them sounds heavyset, his footsteps pounding harder than the others, with a certain grace of surety to his motions. Probably an army boy, back home for a few weeks with his friends. I'll have to take him down first if I want this to go cleanly.
The Plague of Sympathy
Emotion Control: standard (rank 1)
Shoving off from the tavern, I begin crawling forward on my knees, scrambling toward the voices. I can't see them, not yet, but I can feel their sympathies being tickled. A poor, pathetic old man without his sight, probably just a few weeks away from dying. Such a pitiful sight. Who in their right heart could resist coming to his aid? I call out to them, begging for their help. One of them returns my call and rushes forward. I hold out my hand, he takes it...and so the fun begins.
What's mine is yours...
Inhibit Senses: superior (rank 2)
In an instant, daylight washes over me. I can see everything now. The town flourishes around me once more, just as it was when I had last seen it. Street lights illuminate faces and buildings as the sun begins to go down, giving everything that eerie feel of unwarranted excitement. Looking forward, I see a young man standing in front of me, face locked in an expression of absolute horror as blinding darkness consumes him. It's his darkness now, a temporary burden until it finds its way home. Further back, I see his friends gasp in surprise as he lurches over, hitting the ground with an agonized groan.
And what's yours is mine!
Hyper-Senses: standard (rank 1)
Surprise shifts into anger as realization dons on them. They glare at their friend's aggressor, and I am surprised at how clear their ferocity becomes. These eyes are sharp, trained to hone in on details. Just my luck! I shall enjoy seeing through this lens.
Anger makes for easy bait...
Tactician: standard (rank 1)
The men charge toward me together, rage consuming them as they think only on avenging the man who felled their friend. The heavyset man races past the others, athleticism and confidence giving him the edge as he strives to make first contact with me. I'll need to drop him first before the others arrive.
Spinning around on my heel, I high-tail it toward a nearby alley. Speed isn't on my side, but it's only a short distance. The army boy is only a few feet away as I rush into the narrow path, running as deep into the crevice as time will allow before he catches up with me. His friends will be of no use to him here; there won't be enough room to strike together inside the walls. He'll have me all to himself, just like he wanted. Just like [i]I[/i] wanted.
And easy bait makes for an easy catch.
Martial Arts: standard (rank 1)
The distance is closed; I can hear him lurch forward as he reaches out to grab me. Digging my foot into the ground, I swing around and parry the blow, twisting him into an arm lock before pounding his head against the wall. He stumbles backward, and I plant my other foot between his legs, falling him. As he stumbles I thrust my hand into his neck, crushing his Adam's apple as he hits the ground. His friends run into the ally a moment later, fear hitting them hard at the sight of their fallen leader.
A vicious circle.
Acrobat: standard (rank 1)
They rush in together, hindered by the closed quarters and stumbling on one another. The first one rushes at me, a foolish tactic considering the last outcome. I decide to toy with him, weaving in and out of his blows as he tries so desperately to connect. I crouch low and deliver a single blow to his ribs, causing him to hunch forward in pain. Using his back as a stepping stool, I leap into the air over the second man, spinning around as I pass him to deliver a kick into the back of his neck. He falls on top of his friend and they hit the ground together, unconscious.
I won't kill them, not for defending their friend. It was their right to attack me, futile as their chances were. My fight is won, and so I take my leave. Stepping out of the alley, I walk back toward the tavern, ready to have my fun. Time to eat, drink, and be merry, for a while anyway. until the darkness returns, and it [i]always[/i] returns.