tushanshu_logs | OPEN LOG; The Masked Man

CHARACTERS; Yokai and YOU!
DATE; Throughout the month of April. [Mostly at night.]
LOCATION; All about Keeliai!
SITUATION; A certain old man has terrible coping methods when it comes to dealing with racing thoughts and stress. A certain masked man finds himself exploring Keelai through yellowed eyes, and may or may not be running in to trouble in the meantime.
WARNINGS/RATINGS; Possible violence. Otherwise, nothing past PG-13.

See me, the red lines cry. See my role in this story, see that I have a wrong to right; see that I am power and that I will not be denied.

Callaghan hadn't chosen the mask without being ignorant of its meaning; he had, however, chosen it for a multitude of reasons. All symbolism aside, it offered full-face coverage, and hardly blocked his peripheral vision. Secured with the ski mask underneath, it would take (and had taken) a heavy strike to knock off, but since arriving here in Keeliai, he'd made a few further tweaks to ensure that if, for whatever reason, he had to don it again...

To be fair, he hadn't considered donning it for the freedom it offered. Dressing in the outfit again felt inherently good, as did running along the building edges with the microbots enhancing his movements. He did not know parkour, per se, but he didn't need to - not when the microbots were there by his feet to give him the push or pull he needed to cross an alley, not when they could toss him in to the air and his own strength could grab on to a protrusion to haul himself in to another position.

God, but this felt good. It felt right. And as long as he could keep himself out of view, the microbots next to him, and the terrain itself from betraying him...

He just had to be careful, was all. Without nearly as many microbots as he had before, he tried to keep to the shadows. And if that ended up with him overseeing a few gang members or so...?

On one hand, it wasn't any of his business.

On the other, there's something to be said about getting carried away.

((Over the course of the month, rumors will begin to spread regarding a mysterious figure, some mugging incidents [unclear as to what side they were partaking in], and some thefts as well. feel free to put a general time period/area in your first comment, or PM/plurk me and we can do something specific!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Asking Skulduggery not to notice whispered rumours of a masked man roaming Keeliai at night was like asking the sky not to be blue.

Kedan, some of those whispers said. It shapeshifts. It has to be.

Skulduggery wasn't so sure. Kedan didn't wear masks. They were shapeshifters; they didn't need to. Any kedan belonging to the three major families certainly wouldn't be going around hiding their identity, and if it was anyone else... well, they weren't really getting much done. A thief in some stories, a vigilante in others? A man made out of metal, if you believed everything you heard?

It was a dark, cold night about halfway through the month when Skulduggery began walking around the Metal Sector after dark. He didn't expect to find anything the first time he tried, or the second, or even the third - but detective work was frequently about being very patient and extraordinarily lucky. He would spend his nights walking around the Metal Sector after dark until he found something.

Or, hopefully, someone.

The rumors are doubleedged; on one hand, he's starting to get a few people taking the sound of metal as reason to move away from an area. On the other, some move towards, and when he's trying to be stealthy...that's not necessarily the best thing.

So he's taken to actually wearing the things, carrying their weight as best he can. And with the exertion of the past weeks, he only notices them so much- oh, if he needs to move quickly they move with him and more often than not for him, but when he's moving through shadow, slipping in to a building he's been scoping out for some time-

-he needs to be careful. He knows this. But the andrenaline high is practically a drug, by now, and so he takes the risk because this one, here-

-this one has supplies.

Yokai takes a look around at the shadowed supply area, noting that his overheard information seems to be correct; the patrol is focused elsewhere for the moment. He only has so much time to slip in and out, so he immediately moves for the crates on the right, microbots draped over him like a mantle and cape.

If there's one thing Skulduggery's learned in centuries of detective work, it's to avoid where the patrols go. Manhunts are loud and noticeable; no one goes near them if they can help it, much less the criminal in question.

Which is why, on his fifth night of walking around the Metal Sector, Skulduggery decides to try a warehouse nice and far out of the patrol's path.

Not quite a warehouse, to be fair; it's not big enough. More of a small storage facility, probably only belonging to one local business. Skulduggery tries the doors at ground level and discovers they're locked, though the sound of them rattling in their frames echoes through the darkness. Inconvenient, but not surprising. He pulls the air in around him and flies up onto the roof of the warehouse, searching for another way in.

Yokai's own entrance was through the ventilation, the microbots securing themselves in his clothing to avoid making too much noise. There's a skylight above, allowing some moonlight in, but with light comes shadow- and cover. He tries to stick to it as best he can as he opens the first crate-

Jackpot.

Small unrefined nuggets, perfect to smelt down and utilize- now the only question is their transport. Yokai brings the microbots off of him, closing the crate again as he begins to force them under it, deciding that a one and done method is the best here- even if he had the means to sneak more, there's no doubt that this is going to be missed.

Ah, a skylight. Very useful, and annoyingly rare in Keeliai. Skulduggery kneels down at the edge of it and peers into the warehouse below.

Crates. More crates. Stacks of crates in the corners, stacks of crates in the middle. All in all? Crates. Not having a physical pair of eyes allows for exceptional night vision, but just in case, Skulduggery continues scanning the area for another minute before standing up to try somewhere else.

Then he pauses, and kneels down again. Somewhere... something in the shadows changed. He saw a flicker, but of what, he wasn't sure. Moonlight glinting off metal? Maybe. Were the contents of the crates made of metal? In all likelihood, yes, but it wouldn't hurt to check.

So he does. He finds the ventilation, eases himself inside, and drifts soundlessly to the ground. In lieu of trying to track down or startle any would-be thief, Skulduggery deliberately knocks a small pebble as he takes a step forward, listening carefully for sounds of alarm - or the sudden cessation of any noise whatsoever.

The microbots can cover most noise in their own rustling, but Yokai's become attentive to sounds beyond their rustling; there's that stilling, that pausing, that waiting...

...he looks back at the crate, then peers through the shadows. After another few moments of consideration, he motions for them to move again, heading for one of the larger doors.

At least, that's where he directs them and their haul. Yokai himself moves for the walls and the shadow there, somewhere he can get a view of both where he's sending the microbots- and, perhaps, whatever vermin startled him.

It's the combination of the utter silence and the ensuing telltale rustling which tells Skulduggery he isn't alone. He suppresses the triumph; the noise could be anyone or anything, not necessarily the thief he's after. But it does sound promising.

He moves toward it, following at a distance, tracing the path the noise is likely taking towards one of the warehouse's doors. His feet leave the ground and he moves a little more quickly through the air; then he tops a stack of crates and sees -

- glinting metal. The rumours certainly aren't unfounded.

There's no sign of a person controlling it, even though the wave - which also isn't an exaggerated description - is transporting a crate. Skulduggery touches back down on the ground and summons a flame into one hand.

There's nothing else for it, so he calls out. "Hello?"

The flame will cause the microbots to be fully depicted as such- that is to say, it's obvious that they're a mass of metal. Of individual metal pieces, no less, all working together and, at the moment, flattening completely against the ground as their controller looks towards the source of the light.

He's not fully obvious, he doesn't think, there's still a shadow on him, but...he makes a small hand gesture, a curling and flexing of fingers. The microbots abandon the crate, spreading outwards in individual tendrils, seeming to 'flee' in three directions at once.

None of which are towards him.

It isn't often Skulduggery can say he struck fear in the hearts of small metal pieces.

They've abandoned the crate, which Skulduggery would consider a victory if he considered stopping the thefts his priority. To that end, although it's tempting to follow one of the three different individual tendrils and try to learn more about what the small metal pieces actually are - tempting enough that Skulduggery takes a single purposeful step forward before catching himself - he waits, one hand outstretched, reading the air. It takes a few moments longer than he'd like due to the small metal bits displacing the air around them, but Skulduggery persists, searching for where a much more human-like figure might be making physical movements to control them -

- there. A place the air buffets, like waves around a rock.

Skulduggery turns and faces the spot straight-on. "Hello," he says again. It's a statement this time, not a question. "Please come out. I'm trying to avoid a fight."

OPEN LOG; The Masked Man

Mid-month or so, after the rumours have become commonplace.

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