Post by Jace Berna on May 23, 2020 21:22:46 GMT -4
Shit was going down. A jailbreak, riots in the streets, chaos everywhere, people forced to hide wherever they could as dangerous beings roamed loose in Tokyo. And so heroes were out in full force, trying to put down the threat that now faced Tokyo City, and with those heroes were the third years apprenticing under them. And that was how Jace ended up on the scene, having been given the go ahead by Hellhound to intervene as necessary, the leash was taken off him and all apprenticing third years due to the circumstances. Of course, this wasn't without it's limits. Jace was expected to check in with the hero repeatedly and regularly, the fiery and fire headed woman making it very clear she was expecting too hear from him every thirty minutes, ON the dot. No exceptions. And he could tell by her tone that if he was even a minute late, he'd be in a lot of trouble.
But Jace wasn't going to run away, even if her threats did terrify him almost as much as the situation at hand. It also didn't help that in a response which required a lot of rescue heroes, the cat quirked boy was...out of his element, so to speak. Despite having repeatedly asked permission to go out from Freya, Jace didn't really fit the mold of rescue hero. He was neither large in personality nor size, struggled being able to lift and carry the single dummy that they trained with in Fort Slog, had next to none real medical training, and his default temperament was about as inspiring as a newborn kitten. But that didn't mean he didn't have his niché. Jace was a particularly skilled tracker hero, able to sniff out those who would otherwise be hard too find. Then he'd message their location too Hellhound for either evac or rescue depending on their situation. And while hopefully it wouldn't be necessary, the fiery cat boys flames were hot, and his claws sharp if it came to a fight. But so far he'd been lucky, only finding remnants of past carnage.
And so he traveled through an alleyway, transformed as his tail flapped in the wind as he ran on all fours, his claws allowing him access to running along the sides of the buildings making up the alley as easily as if it were the street themselves,the boy following the smell of people and smoke that was all around him, his sensitive ears picking up explosions and yells of both terror and excitement. The boy was on edge, his transformation dulling his nerves enough to not be panicking, but still nervous enough to have his every movement feel carefully and purposefully picked.
But Jace wasn't going to run away, even if her threats did terrify him almost as much as the situation at hand. It also didn't help that in a response which required a lot of rescue heroes, the cat quirked boy was...out of his element, so to speak. Despite having repeatedly asked permission to go out from Freya, Jace didn't really fit the mold of rescue hero. He was neither large in personality nor size, struggled being able to lift and carry the single dummy that they trained with in Fort Slog, had next to none real medical training, and his default temperament was about as inspiring as a newborn kitten. But that didn't mean he didn't have his niché. Jace was a particularly skilled tracker hero, able to sniff out those who would otherwise be hard too find. Then he'd message their location too Hellhound for either evac or rescue depending on their situation. And while hopefully it wouldn't be necessary, the fiery cat boys flames were hot, and his claws sharp if it came to a fight. But so far he'd been lucky, only finding remnants of past carnage.
And so he traveled through an alleyway, transformed as his tail flapped in the wind as he ran on all fours, his claws allowing him access to running along the sides of the buildings making up the alley as easily as if it were the street themselves,the boy following the smell of people and smoke that was all around him, his sensitive ears picking up explosions and yells of both terror and excitement. The boy was on edge, his transformation dulling his nerves enough to not be panicking, but still nervous enough to have his every movement feel carefully and purposefully picked.
