Mad Scientist

He flashed her a quick grin in spite of himself. "If simple is better, then I must be the best," he joked, although the quick change of direction directly to the 'training' sobered him somewhat, and he put on his game face. Which wasn't difficult to do -- falling into a 'fight' mindset was all too easy a task for him. He dropped into his 'combat crouch' -- left leg advanced, right leg trailing, knees slightly bent and feet about shoulder width apart. He hunched forward a touch to reduce the visible cues his centre of mass might give, and his hands were spread slightly from his sides, fingers flexed. Just...assuming that pose, for an audience, made him feel more than a little foolish, however, and combined with taking on a combative stance he had to wrestle momentarily with himself to keep this from becoming something that might prompt him to go too far. He hated feeling antsy, but being on display like this made his skin itch.

Wildcat didn't bother touching down atop the wall, instead clearing it entirely and landing in a crouch on the grassy interior. His nostrils flared as he took in traces of scents from the day's use of the compound, and his ears picked out various small noises of night life and local fauna. "Was the Headmaster monitoring that camera?" he wondered aloud as he rose to his full height again. "Or was that sort of a...security camera voice mail?" he asked, amused by the concept. He followed Wander's lead warily, not so much worried about being attacked or ambushed by anyone as.... Well. It was a high school for new supers. He was sort of worried about being attacked or ambushed, albeit not so much maliciously as mischievously. "This...looks like a soccer field," he noted as they arrived, checking out the nets and the uprights. "Truly, this is a marvel of training genius," he added wryly. While he hadn't had any particular ideas in mind, he realized he'd been expecting something a little...unusual...out of the superkid school.

Entering the number as it was given, Wildcat was startled when Wander then proceeded to actually give him her personal number, as he had joked. Before he had a chance to embarrass himself, however, in the same breath she mentioned that her superhero boyfriend might answer as well. Well, of course. That was only to be expected, right? "I, uh, hope that never causes any problems," he told her with a touch of nerves. He couldn't imagine being okay with any girl of his just giving out her number blithely to guy she just met, regardless of circumstances. He made a mental note to check out this 'Midnight' if and when they crossed paths, if the Interceptors were going to be running around in his neighbourhood. "I'd ask how you were going to get in touch with me in return, but I don't imagine you'd ever really need to, right?" he asked her ruefully, locking and pocketing the phone again, making sure the pocket was well-secured, so he didn't lose it. "All right, we should probably get going, if you're going to have any time to kick my ass for my own benefit, right?" he suggested.

Even moreso than his strength or agility, some of Wildcat's best assets were centred in his head. Take, for instance, police sirens. Normally audible at a fair distance for just about anyone, he could make out the sound clearly from blocks away, and could even filter out the distracting echoes off the flat faces of buildings to get a precise direction. Gunfire added itself to the equation as he bounded and ran his way across the rooftops on an intercept course, his keen eyes now picking out the flashing strobes of the police car's red-and-blues. Dropping into the alleyway between buildings as he saw the police car and its running prey careen around a corner, he scooped up a hunk of broken wine bottle perhaps three inches across from the gutter. Darting out of the shadows as the car roared by, he flicked the wicked-edged glass out at the blurring circle of the car's front driver-side tire. Unfortunately, the curved nature of the piece of glass threw his aim off just a hair, and rather than perforating the rubber of the tire it instead vanished between tire and fender, a crunching bang indicating it had impacted somewhere on the underside of the car. He whirled to follow the car's passage, cursing at himself for missing his shot.

At it happened, the outfit that Wildcat had put together did have plenty of pocket space, military designers being great fans of utility in their clothing. "As a matter of fact," he admitted, and pulled an Otterboxed iPhone out of one leg pocket on his BDU pants. It was the best he had been able to figure on how to keep his phone from getting utterly destroyed the first time something went other than as planned, and he checked yet again to make sure that it was set on vibrate before unlocking and opening a new Contact page. Given that this was going in his, y'know, personal phone and all, he probably shouldn't label it anything like 'Liberty League', though. Just for safety's sake. Entering 'Libby', he looked up expectantly at Wander, thumb poised over the phone's face.

Wildcat darts out of the alleyway halfway down the block as the car approaches, a piece of broken bottle from the gutter glinting in his hand. It flicks out as the car passes by only a couple of yards away, but shatters on the rim rather than puncturing the tire itself. All Out Attack +2, Throwing Mastery 5, Called Shot vs Tire: 1d20+9 17

All right, I just didn't know what procedure was, and I didn't want people waiting on me while I was waiting on you. :D

My first run at this -- shall I post now as highest Init, or are we waiting for further GM input? :)

Wildcat followed in her wake, and if the descent was any more difficult than the ascent for him, it didn't show -- and that fact clearly delighted him. He had know his agility and balance were above-par, but he had never put them to the test like this, and the fact that he was, indeed, up to the challenge was...affirming. Once they were to a position where further conversation was once again convenient, he gave her a sidelong look. "So...does that mean I'm supposed to ask you for your phone number?" he inquired, keeping his delivery as deadpan as he could manage.

Wildcat shook his head ruefully. "Makes me wonder just what I think I'm doing out here," he told her with a touch of asperity. "I mean, what would I do if demons started pouring out of a hole in space. Hit them with a stick?" he asked her, his tone very dry, and a little frustrated. "That's why I'm thinking it's best I just keep my head down in my own little corner of the city, keeping the people safe. I can make a gang banger think twice before causing trouble, or deal with something that crawls out of the sewers. But alien invasions? Demons? Super villains?" He shook his head. "I appreciate what you're doing for me here, I really do. I'm just hoping for everyone's sake that it's never important that you did," he told her quietly, turning to look out over the waters again. Nobody liked admitting there were things that were far too large for them to handle, but...well, he had to be realistic here.

The view was, as promised, amazing, and Wildcat took a long moment just surveying the cityscape. Even at night there was a lot to see, and he wondered if he'd have the guts to come do this in broad daylight someday. Wander's question dragged his attention back to the here and now, and he turned away from the city to look at her, the scent of her filling his head at this close range. "Uh, the Grue? Yeah, I was in the city then, but I wasn't doing any of..." He gestured to take in their position and the city spread out before and behind. "...this. My family and I, we just kept our heads down and let the heroes do their thing, hoping we'd come through okay. I wanted to--" He broke off abruptly, vividly recalling how he had felt. These alien blobs were invading his home, trying to take over his city, and every fibre of him had wanted to take the fight to them, tear into them and make them hurt until they just left what was his alone and get the hell out of his territory. It had been...terrifying. He knew, knew, that if he had gone out there and tried anything of the sort, he likely wouldn't have come back again. He had been a teenager, and while he could do more than most, he certainly wouldn't have been up to interfering on that level. He...wasn't quite that bad these days, thank God. "...demonic invasion?" he repeated, in agreement that he didn't remember any such thing. "What happened there?" he asked, curious in spite of himself.

As time went on and they progressed with decent speed across the city, Wildcat found himself not only losing his nervousness at the current encounter, but actually coming to enjoy himself. There was a certain something about this game of follow the leader across the nighttime rooftops, and the fact that he was, in essence, pursuing a capable female stirred him to keep up. And so, when the question came about taking the safe walkway across the bridge or daring to climb the heights on the thick cables in the gloom of the night, he flashed her a toothy white grin and took the lead. He bounded onto the cables in a single leap, and keeping his balance with agility moved with surprising speed up the arcing cable toward the first of the tower supports. He had never done this before, but at the moment he felt he could hardly do anything but.

Making mental note of each landmark as it was pointed out to him, Wildcat had to admit that it was really a rather good idea, when it came to navigating. It wouldn't work nearly as well at ground level due to buildings blocking line of sight, but on the rooftops.... He watched her jump to the next rooftop, marvelling at how effortless she seemed to make it. He could do it himself, but the while sensation of falling throughout was more than a little disconcerting. Getting a running start, he bounded across the intervening space in her wake. While his technique wasn't Olympic-grade, he clearly had a lot of raw talent when it came to this sort of thing, and he just as obviously had done it before. Landing in a scuff of gravel, he straightened and gave her a nod. Lead on -- he'd be right on her tail.

Wildcat Head in the Game (23) Organized Crimes (1) Reputation & 20Q

In response, Wildcat lifted a foot and waggled it. "I don't break the sound barrier, but I can better interstate speeds on a straightaway, short-term," he told her. He wasn't...smug, exactly, but in general he cross the city at better speeds than a car could, especially since he wasn't limited by streets and traffic lights. Of course, in a world of people who could do the same thing in seconds he didn't rate very highly, but it was far, far more than most people could manage at all, and he was okay with that. He wasn't a major player in the greater scheme of things, he was well aware of that. But he was above the ninety-ninth percentile when it came to the general population, and that certainly meant something. "Although I, uh, I've got a general idea where we're going, but I haven't done the route at speed, by night, cross-country," he admitted. "I'm finding that losing my bearings when running about above street sign level is a bigger worry than I'd realized." He was tempted to try and run the GPS program on his phone, but that was pretty much asking for it to go flying and smash into about half a million pieces.

WIldcat had to chuckle. "Makes mine look a little puny," he admitted, slowly drawing out from behind his back an eighteen inch baton of what looked to be some sort of dark ballistic plastic. "Although it doesn't really do anything to keep me from hitting anything too hard. It's...sort of the opposite." He hadn't really needed to pull it out on anything so far, but he'd rather have it and not need it than the other way around. Tucking it back behind his belt -- he was not about to start whaling with a weapon on someone trying to help him out -- he spread his hands in question. "So, what -- you wanna just start taking swings at each other, on this guy's roof?" he asked dubiously. That...struck him as a good way to get people annoyed with them. Not to mention pretty much inviting someone who didn't know what was going on to get involved. And, of course, that would mean having them jump on him with both feet, no doubt. It was almost a law.

Wildcat found himself a little...hesitant. "I'm...not sure that's the best idea," he replied, his voice a little rougher than it had been. "I'm not always so good at keeping things at a 'friendly' level, once my blood gets up," the tall young man explained. He'd gotten a bit of a reputation when in school for being a pushover, because he couldn't even trust himself at 'screwing around' levels of physical contact. The instincts within him wanted to dominate, to win, and he really had to hold himself back from going way too far. "I mean, my getting some training isn't a bad idea," he clarified hastily. "I just don't want to hurt anyone more than I should, unintentionally." He couldn't really say he didn't intend to hurt anyone -- if that was the case, he wouldn't have been out here to begin with. He just intended that the hurt happened to people that had it coming.

Wildcat clamped down hard on the instinctive response that sprang to his lips at her offer, by now a reflex from long practice. If he just let his tongue run away with itself without a care, he would long ago have gotten himself in a great deal of trouble. "...what did you have in mind?" he asked cautiously. He couldn't really argue with her, however -- he didn't really know how he might stack up against a supervillain or supervillains, but if there was a situation where the world was in peril, he wasn't really sure what he could do about it. Of course, he wasn't sure there was any degree of training that would help him out in that respect -- there's only so much that above-average physical capabilities can do in the event of, say, an alien invasion. Punching them out one at a time struck him as a loooong prospect.

Despite himself, Wildcat chuckled. "I have a feeling I might stick out a bit at Claremont," he replied dryly -- he had been out of his teens for a couple of years now, and he'd lost that whole 'school' vibe some time ago. That, and the thought of being thrust back into that churling maelstrom of adolescent hormones and scents.... He shuddered, just slightly. It was hard enough to keep his head as it was, sometimes, without thinking of going back to that sort of thing again. Without even realizing what he was doing, he scented the air again, carrying those particular elements that made up 'Wander' to him. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly helpless up here," he countered, slightly stung by her implication that if things went bad, he'd be way out of his depth. "I'm not exactly straight out of Kung Fu Theatre, but I can hold my own and keep from getting my tail singed." Not that he actually had a literal tail, but...well, you know.

The impulse not to sound like a total rook warred with the realization that claiming training he didn't have would pretty much inevitably lead to him showing as much almost immediately. "...not as such," he admitted reluctantly, dropping easily to sit on his heels, so as to not loom quite so much. He was pretty sure she wasn't afraid of him...and he couldn't blame her for that...but that didn't mean that standing over her was anything approaching...polite. "I mean, I'm not entirely useless," he added with a wry twist to his lips. "I've got some pretty awesome reflexes. But I've nevery really been able to figure out how to go about having someone teach me fighting skills, when...." He trailed off for a moment, his attention turning inward for just an instant. "...well, when it's hard to be sure you're holding back enough so you don't give yourself away, y'know?" He...didn't actually know if she knew, when it came down to it, but surely if nothing else she had something equivilent that made things...interesting.

As they conversed, Wildcat did seem to become less keyed up, physically, but if possible seemed to be becoming even more tense, socially-speaking. "Uh, not really new to the, um, city, but I haven't been doing this kind of patrol for very long yet," he admitted. 'Very long' being perhaps a mild understatement that meant about 'a week'. If he had to guess, Wander seemed to be about his own age, but he was fairly sure she'd already been doing this whole gig for years. With full-bore super powers often having their onset at puberty, there were quite a few kids out there younger than he was that had quite a bit of experince over and above his. "Skills? Little bit like yours, as far as I know, actually," he went on, recalling what he'd heard of this particular heroine. "I can scrap, and I'm a lot stronger and quicker than average." She was reputed to be a good deal faster than he was, though. "I've got pretty keen senses, too, so I'm good at spotting trouble or tracking it down." He felt a little...odd...just telling her all of this, but as she'd said, they were on the same side, right? He was so very new, he needed to put in his dues and make a name for himself, if he was ever going to take part in this whole heroic...community.

Initiative: 1d20+9 26

Now that it seemed less likely that they were in imminent danger of a tragic misunderstanding that would lead to an unnecessary brawl, the young man seemed...a little rattled. "Ahhh...you can call me...Wildcat," he told her, and swear to God he actually sounded self-conscious? He had to admit to himself, however, he was at least a little impressed. Liberty League? Full-on superhero team, with member roster and everything. He...was just himself. "Good to meet you, Wander," he went on, making an effort to sound 'heroic'. "Glad we're working the same side." Because, well...he wasn't all that thrilled about hitting girls.

He started, then straightened abruptly. "Wait, what?" he blurted, sounding startled. "Supervillain? No, hey, you've got it all wrong," he told her defensively. "For one thing, I'm not all that super," he told her, and actually managed to sound like he might be sincere. "Seconds, I am so not a villain. I'm..." He shrugged. "Just trying to help out," he concluded off-handedly. "There are lots of just regular people in the West End that can't get out of the way when something bigger comes rolling through. I'm just here to try and help them out, how I can." He sniffed -- not like he was dealing with allergies or anything, but more...like he was testing the air.

Whomever it was, he apparently had excellent hearing, because when Wander came around the side of the outcropping of sheet metal he had just finished whirling to face her, despite the fact that she had made minimal noise. He was crouched, defensively, and his body laguage read like a startled animal. Dark pants and boots, black top, all apparently military surplus -- it fairly screamed 'rookie'. His mask was vaguely feline in design, and left both his dark hair and the lower half of his face exposed. His eyes, seen through that mask, didn't quite catch and reflect the light of the streetlamps, but it was a near thing, their pale brown more of an amber in colouration in the darkness. The lack of immediate offensive action against him seemed to take the immediate edge of his wariness, but he seemed content to wait to see what happened -- react, rather than take the initiative.