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“The trees... they can see us all through them...” His eyes frantically searched about the town as he muttered to himself in a panicked hush. His disposition leaked suspicion. His posture was hunched, his frame thin and age teetered between two and three decades of life within the ravaged lands of Earthland.

He had a bag in tow and made his way into a building. It was a total of four stories and despite its appearance, much like the other structures about it – time-weathered and shoddy – it did appear to be a place of work. Though, as he passed through the first level, a humble restaurant, he ventured upstairs. The upper levels appeared to be purposed for apartments.

He scrambled into his own and closed the door. As if overtaken by lunacy, he plunged his thumb into a vial of liquid. Red with the faint scent of metal, he began tracing runic symbols across a floor already riddled with them.

“They can't get to me – not now...” he rambled and all the while, a cat of black and white, rather large for the domesticated variety by comparison – it sat at the edge of this town looking rather... commonplace despite the somewhat odd fur pattern.

Ankh Khonsu
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“I just realized...” This was said in a whisper as Hector took his place beside Varro. “I'm not... great as discreet stuff.” For that moment, there was no activity. Nobody was venturing anywhere near where they were and none of the staff were outside of the makeshift establishment. With this, Hector used the opportunity to make a bit more conversation.

“Are you? Askin' 'cause I... uh, breathe fire and stuff. Burnin' someone alive tends to be very bright and those on the receivin' end? They scream a lot.” His brow furrowed in frustration at this realization.

“I mean, there's other stuff I can do. I've been workin' on focusin' everything in these claws. Rake out a throat or two – 'y know, that's kinda how I was scouted. They caught wind of me takin' fish from someone who... had an unfortunate throat-related accident.”

The door opened. Immediately, Hector fell quiet and his eyes focused on the restaurant. His stare was intense, unblinking, and his focus unshakable and razor-sharp. There was a manager judging from the description they were given, but there was another too. It was an older woman. She was short and while facial features were difficult to make out, it was a stern, humourless face. Hector's eyes narrowed at the sight. He looked to Varro and doubtlessly, he became a telepath for that moment. It was obvious what the feline was thinking. The target was there, but there was a witness. Judging from how the feline's bestial visage burbled with resolution, it seemed to communicate the idea was to simply kill both.

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Information. He was so smart to Hector. His own reasoning was not something as intelligent as acquiring knowledge and he voiced the difference.

“That's smart – I just do it 'cause it's fun, really and I gotta grow this new power of mine. Well, new-ish. There's somebody from my hometown that needs a big ol' slice of humble pie. They're kinda okay-ish now at fighting, but do they have the power of a motherfucking dragon? Yeah, no, they don't do they? Hah!” He spat, but quickly noticed Varro did not ask for any of what he just rambled.

“That's neither here nor there, though. What is there is that.” Hector stopped just before a building - well, that back of it. He most certainly did not approach from the front. It was as rustic as the other structures around it, but of course a sign of sorts indicated that it was both a restaurant and, to them, that their target was inside.

'He does a lot of bending. Presenting himself to everyone. I wonder if he does this on purpose. Couldn't be.'

This voice came from within their heads.

“What the...” Hector muttered to himself beside their closed backdoor – something likely used to take garbage out and enter with goods and other things too large or distracting to do from the front.

'Sigh. These people say they hate their job or whatever. Yeah, yeah – I don't buy that. They have plenty of opportunity to do something else. Phew. Guess I'll not say anything, though. Their may be consequences if I did something besides judge from the safety of my own mind.'

“That's... her.” Hector clarified. “Does... she not know she's a raging telepath?”

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MISSION NAME: Kill the Inner Dialogue
CLIENT: Anonymous employee at a local food joint.
CHARACTERS: Varro Demetrious Hector de Maris
MISSION BRIEFING: A manager at a local food joint controls the whole place, but has an annoying quirk – so annoy that one of the employees literally put a hit on her. Her request reached Bloodcrest and founded perfect for the upstarts to take on.

The two were already filled in. 

Hector crept along with relative haste, casting a glance towards his favourite human every now and then. His desires were of the same or similar species, of course – however, for whatever reason – this one human was the exception. They possessed an incredible magnetic pull that nigh nobody was able to escape. Varro's charms were just that great. 

Hardly could Hector ever admit to this and never would. He did not appear off-putting or weird. He just seemed like an agreeable, chill cat when he was around Varro. Conversation was something he found himself easily able to engage in with him; so, that was what he was doing. 

“Hey, so, Varro...” Hector began as they walked about the town. They slipped through alleyways – or at least whenever Hector was in the lead, that was where he tended to stray. Perhaps it was an attempt to keep a low profile, but he liked to meander about in less populated areas, narrower paths instead of large, open ones. 

“What got you into this... ground-floor opportunity?” He asked as they made their way towards the food joint. Nightfall was upon them just as it was as they left.

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