Azra
Member
Yellow eyes looked at a poster for some time. He questioned was it real? Head to Stiles Street for a chance to start a revolution could it be that simple?
Noir realized he didn't have the options or time to wait around for someone to answer him. Nobody would come up to him to discuss the validity of the poster. Sure he could inquire them but they might think him a meta if he did such a thing. He wasn't a normal scenario if he was going to out what he was it needed to be more trustable in source. Or confined enough he could get away with burning the evidence. Fine to Stiles Street it was, he was fed up as it asked, and a fiery retribution was what was called for.
It started with a trio of jumps. From ground to top of a dumpster from there to a fire escape second story up. From there to the roof, each jump a powerful lunge. The slightest effort to pull himself up and over the wall to be on the roof proper. From there he took off at a sprint, he did track once, never did he feel as fast now. He liked to think it was do to drive, his previous self was nobody was a victim. Today though he was someone with purpose. The wind rustled his hair as he traveled roof tops the occasional jump to cover the gaps. It was nicer up here, the smell of air and smog was favorable over the stench of people. He tried not to think that way but sometimes it couldn't be helped.
So often when he saw a pretty woman he saw her. When he smelled a perfume he smelled her. When he heard a laugh he mistook it for her. And every thought of her reminded him of the end. He didn't want to speak her name because just the thought of it hurt. People made him remember what he was. As the mind danced around these thoughts his pace quickened. Predatory, eager to race after a mark. Or maybe it was eager to escape. Just run away from the people and the memories that burned in his mind. The rushing act comes to a halt as he reaches a highway. It's to far to jump across.
"'And all I loved, I loved alone."
This was a quote, by today's standards he might have been considered edgy. Noir still liked to read his material though, said author spoke fondly of the mystery of cats after all. And to Noir those words spoken were like those of an incantation. To him the chance to fly away from his troubles was a dream, an idea to still adore. It was a concept to love, but now he always went to rest alone his love a flickering memory betraying the ash left behind. Wings unfurl from his back and with it the rest of the journey is traveled by air. Remaining distance blazed a way by the swiftness only wings could provide.
The building ahead was where the flier said to go. And so a critter lands at the door. He jumps on the handle trying to open the door. A back arching to pull, it got him nowhere. Maybe it was heard but now he was annoyed. Next came trying to force it open. Furiously he swiped at the door trying to push it with a series of strikes. It'd sound like scratching and it got Noir nowhere. A sigh escapes him. Looking upwards would be something that's imposing stature was about ankle high, a black cat. "Mew! Ehm...here for Marry?"