Sara didn’t really react to hearing The Staff’s groan. She’s learned to be cautious and not under estimate people any more. Thank a midnight blue, shimmery guy with pointy ears, for that. Besides. She could hear it in the man’s voice that he was older. There was something to still be said for older fighters. Their old for a reason, and they’ve gained experience to back them up. Sara wasn’t completely lacking in the understanding of how a fight worked, but she still didn’t have that experience that came with the age. She knew that.

Sara had been successful in the kick to his legs. That should slow him down. she thought as she pushed herself back at him. Intending on detaining him, some how. Not to kill him, but because she wanted to know why he was after Luke or rather, Wraith If he would attack Sara in such a way, as he had with the staff, that he was still healing from, who knows what he’d do to her boss. Or worst, if he discovered the connection between her boss, Luke, and Raina.

His right hand came up, and the gun in his grasp, didn’t register in Sara’s mind, until he emptied two round into her chest. Her eyes widened, in surprise, and pain. As she let herself tumble to the right, turning the move into a shoulder roll, to try and avoid more of the shots. Switching her from being on the chase, to being on the run.

The roll left her in a crouched position. Her left hand pressed against the ground, and her right pressed against her chest, where she’d been shot and a dark red stain was spreading. Clenching her jaw tight, breathing had become a bit awkward for Sara. Nothing she couldn’t deal with, but her lungs wanted to cough, and coughing hurt. She tried very hard to stifle the breaths as she stared The Staff Down.

Hoping that she could heal before he recovered enough t get up. Because moving hurts when you’re not healed.

Momentum reversed. The Meow took two of the shots. Roland wasn't aiming, but rather doing whatever he could to put distance between the two of them. He saw the blood and the stoppage of said feline beast. That was good. The throbbing in what was probably a bruise to the bone? Not so good. He staggered to his feet as the injured kitty recuperated. He noticed she was far from out. Was it a healing factor? Only time would tell, as he didn't believe he would get another chance to look closely.

The switch point was the next roof over. Roland turned his head and could see the large black case waiting for him. He knew he would only get one chance to do this. All of the grueling hours of matching up suit pieces with his ability would be worth it, should this one trick work. Yes, this dog did know a new trick.Here it comes., he thought to himself. The cat was locked on to him with her slit eyes, but looked like she might be down long enough. He quieted the static and chaos in his mind and focused on the task ahead. He started sprinting, albeit jittery due to the bruising, toward the edge.

At the moment his feet left the ground, the Wraith suit remained behind. Gravity and the lack of his body inside crumpled the suit, but for a brief moment it seemed to stand and watch the man hurtle through the air. He was only in boxers beneath, so should a random vagrant look up between the buildings, a nearly nude man would sail over. When his feet landed, they were black boots. His stealth suit had come out of the case and wrapped itself around him, like an old lover's embrace. He knelt for a moment and smiled widely as the green night vision HUD came to life.

He was up and moving before Sara had recuperated. Though it seemed she had him limping. Sara stood. Still cradling where she’d been shot, and she stumbled two steps before going down to one knee. She was healing but in her mind the healing should be working so much faster.

She was getting back to her feet when the most peculiar things happened. The guy jumped out of his cloths. Sara heart the description of people jumping out of their cloths before but never quite seen it, nor heard it described in this situation. Hmmmm…

She was on her feet. Pausing at the bundle of cloths for a moment, before she followed her nose beyond them. “Clever.” She mumbled to herself. But without the cloths on him, the air that had passed him was much more pungent. She peered over the side of the building and shook her head. Following her nose, Sara slid down the side of the building, and landed nearly silently in the alley way. Nostrils flared, ears flicking.

Roland stood as still as a cockroach when the light came on. The feline was looking down into the alley he had leaped over, her superior senses literally sniffing him out. She had lost the scent, but the glowing green HUD would no doubt return her to the chase in mere seconds. If he was to put distance between himself and the angry kitty, now was the time to do it. A small canister, about the size of a roll of film appeared in his hand, lid removed, as he turned on his heel to make for an escape.

His feet, however padded, would be easily heard by the rotating and flicking ears of the cat woman. His legs were already burning from the previous injury and the general exertion. He let another building gap float beneath him as he bolted across another roof, putting more distance between them. As he left the second roof and sailed toward the flat surface of the next, the small canister was turned upside down and hundreds of small ball bearings scattered beneath him, hopefully at lest slowing her down for even more distance.

Though confidence was a thing that Roland thrived within, stupidity was not. Sometimes his own belief in himself was an obstacle, hiding the truth of a superior combatant's prowess with the man's ego. He could tell though that he was severely outclassed in the realms of strength, speed and stamina against this feline femme fatale. He merely pushed on, pushed harder, the lactic acid in his thighs screaming at him to stop. He didn't dare look back at his pursuer. He assumed that she was right on his heels. It kept him running.

It took Sara a moment to realize she had not gone in the right direction. That’s the thing about following your nose. The wind can blow the sent away from where the individual you’re tracking, actually was. From the ground she heard the light movement from the roof, and her head twisted straight up. Ok so the guy had done a good trick but he should have sat still. Not that him sitting still would have done anything, completely. Sara would have eventually sniffed him out.

She followed from the ground at first, Sara took off full tilt. First to the right till she reached the end of the building then she turned and started headed down the right alley way. Picking up speed for the first 30 feet, then gradually, she hopped off of the ground, onto the fire escape. Making her way across the side of the first building. Reaching the ed of the wall, she caught sight of her quarry, above, clearing the ledge of the roof, of the next building. Sara kicked off, to launch herself to the next building, and the next story up.

Sara grabbed a hold of the fire escape of the next building, Flipped herself around, over the railing, and hopped to the narrow brick ledge. Making her way across the side as she climbed. When she reached the end of the second building she had beaten her prey to the edge. Clearing that alley way before she heard him jump, and land. It gave her a change to reach the end of the third roof, far enough before him, that she had a chance to get a head of him.

Timing was everything after all. And Sara timed her attack to connect right when the man reached the edge of this roof. When he’d be committed to the next jump. Sara held onto the edge of the roof. Her feet braced against the side of the building, The moment his foot sounded right in front of her, she snatched at the man’s ankle with one hand while her other arm moved up to brace against the roof so that she could hold him and let him swing back down. Intending to swing him back over the ledge of the roof he had just come from. She was trying to be careful not to use her claws, but well.. accidents will happen.

Feet padding the ground. Roland's breath was quickening as the little thoughts began to seep into his mind. Had he bitten off more than he could chew? Preposterous. There was no job nor enemy that could outfox Roland Pruitt. So why was he running so hard? His internal dialogue silenced as the edge of the roof approached. A push of the legs and he sailed over to land on the next rooftop. Suddenly, a flash of fur caught his eye as he landed. It was much too fast and well planned to avoid.

A strong grip and what appeared to be claws piercing the suit and his flesh was the next sensation, centered in the ankle of Roland's boot. Gravity ceased its forward grasp as he quickly found himself hanging upside down, staring at the alley some several stories below. Those little thoughts grew in size quickly. The thought of firing a piton through the werecat's shoulder and belaying himself down the wall came to mind, but Roland needed a breather. Besides, if she had wanted to kill him, she surely could have by now.

The mask unsealed itself and disappeared into his suit. Roland looked up at his captor, sweat dripping from his scalp and into the alley below. " Looks like you have me then. Shall we talk now? I will let this slide as a draw." He hoped that she didn't let her grip slide as well.

Sara steadied the man as she clung, with her arm over the side of the roof, and her other extended out to the side, with the other arm holding him out so he didn’t bang himself into the wall. She tilted her head to watch his head dangle. His hood disappeared and Sara studied his face. The smell of his sweet reached her nose.

“A draw.” She laughed at the man. It was amazing. She had him by the ankle and the man couldn’t admit that she bested him. He had the gull to not only shoot her, but to throw a bomb at her head and he had the gull to say draw. Oh yeah. That made a lot of sense. NOT!

Before, the man had another chance to do something like Shoot her, Sara lifted him with the same instant she moved her right foot. Aiming to kick the back of her heal into his temple, to knock him out. A quick shot, clean, without her claws. Only intending to knock him out.

The truth was Sara didn’t like knocking people out, but after resent experiences, she wasn’t giving an inch to this older man. He was physically weaker, and slower but she still considered him a threat. If only because of the experience he probably had over her. She shook her head, as she pulled herself up over the edge of the roof, dragging him with her, then propping him up in a seated position, and waiting for him to wake up. Sara had a few questions.

It seemed probable to Roland that the feline huntress might indeed drop him. She made a strange, guttural type of laugh as the sound passed over throaty vocal cords. He may have overstepped himself with the call of draw, but he had his personal integrity, dammit! She steadied him, as if she was preparing to do something. That something quickly manifested itself as the world did a backflip in Roland's sight. As his body was beginning to become upright, any chance at escape was brought down by a quick and hard shot to the temple.

A dark, warm blanket of fog caressed the man's senses. The white eyes of Nehanda shone like twin lighthouse beacons, burning through the darkness and caressing his fatigued mind. The ocean of lies and deceit surrounded him in every direction. Where was he? He didn't feel wet and he didn't seem to be bobbing much in this ocean. His singular view did not give him hints. It merely changed its perspective, scanning the horizon for more stimulus. Thunder came across the bay of lies. It came in rhythmic pulses, pain shooting through the side of his head with each flash over the tumultuous waters.

Light streamed into his sight once more, stinging his eyes to match the burning throb coming from his temple. He was seated, cool brick against the back of his head.As his sight began t ofocus, the shadows grew into one large one. This particular shadow was quite familiar to Roland as it crouched on its haunches, awaiting his return to the land of the conscious. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, no plans for play now. She had questions and he would provide answers. " So, what did you want to talk about?"

Sara made herself comfortable as she watched her captive as he woke back up. With her tail flicking behind her heals, she easily balanced on the balls of her paw feet.

“How about we start with the basics.” Sara said with her head tilted to the side to better look this one in the eye. “Lets start with why you’re taken such an interest in a masked crusader.” Sara was going to try to be careful to not let any information slip about Luke. The man knew she was connected to Luke, or otherwise known as Wraith. Sara wasn’t worried about that because that wasn’t exactly a secret. Gangs on the street had seen him come to her aid. As far as Sara’s connections to Luke, the paper work that went through his company to pay her, were under the equipment logs. Not the employee logs. “Why are you calling the Staff out and setting traps in your weapons. I’m going to get you were counting on him. Not me.”

The pain was sizzling across his temple. Roland kept one eye closed and sat up a bit straighter to breathe better. Tail flicking in a playful yet deadly serious manner, the one before him sat crouched and dove headlong into her interrogation. She wished to start with basics. It was Roland's best way to start as well, as it gave him an opportunity to ask questions as well. “Lets start with why you’re taken such an interest in a masked crusader." Roland stared at the beastwoman for a moment.

" Crusader? Is that what he is? What, pray tell, would you call his crusade? The protection of rooftops and the harassment of others? I saw the man when I was out doing my own bit of work on rooftops. He chose to attack me and I defended myself. Let's say I don't let grudges go so easily." She would hopefully be open enough to give him some information as well, be it indirect.“Why are you calling the Staff out and setting traps in your weapons. I’m going to get you were counting on him. Not me.” Roland fired another look of piercing wonder at her. " I explained to you completely and specifically that the Staff was not his name and you agreed. So why don't we drop the charade and you tell me what he is really called. Also, while I was indeed trying to bring him out of hiding, you came to his aid quickly. You are the one intruding. That's just my opinion, though." He stretched the sore muscles in his legs as he enjoyed the rest period.

Sara smirked as she watched him shift his leg around. There was some odd satisfaction that she had injured him. Not bad, but she caught him. Sara let out a light laugh. “He harasses those who aren’t obeying the law. So that makes two of us who live life less than honest.”

Sara crossed her ankles and lowered herself to the roof so that she was seated more comfortably. Putting herself in a position she could easily push herself back up, onto her feet. “I don’t drop grudges either and you not only through live explosives at me, you shot me. You’re luck to still have a head, because even when I hold a grudge, I’m still lenient. Too lenient.”

“Of course that is just your opinion. You’re entitled.” Sara’s tail was continually on the move. Twitching a steady beet against the roof top. “His street name is Vector.” Sara’s lied well. This guy didn’t know his street name, witch was repeated enough, and because of that fact, Sara felt he didn’t deserve to know it. “You know. Vector, as in those floating shapes that pop up in your vision when he’s around.”

“As far as my intruding.” Sara grinned, flashing her elegantly long pointed teeth. “I don’t give a dam what your opinion is. I’m entitled to that.”

The cat smirked as he winced during his leg movements. He let all contempt for her remain in the backseat of his mind, where it belonged. He was already tiring of their banter, but was waiting for a good opportunity to come along and allow his timely escape. He wasn't even really interested in the man anymore. She was the one who seemed to harbor something for him, so she could be the new target. It was only fair.“He harasses those who aren’t obeying the law. So that makes two of us who live life less than honest.” Admission of guilt, though he found it strange that two people who had a similar adversary would fight each other.

“I don’t drop grudges either and you not only through live explosives at me, you shot me. You’re luck to still have a head, because even when I hold a grudge, I’m still lenient. Too lenient.” This was porbably accurate. She certainly outmatched him in physical attributes. The jury was still out on mental superiority." Fair enough. I did start it and you did finish it. Or at least you finished it to the point where you were satisfied. Now what?" He kept his emotions in check, remaining cool and confident.

She then verified that they spoke of the same man once she mentioned the strange figures seen with him. Only someone who knew him would know that. As far as Vector or Staff or whatever this man called himself, it was no longer as interesting as the name he was most interested in." Yes, those images were disconcerting, to say the least. What causes that, exactly? Oh, and by the way, do you have a name? I suspect it isn't Meow Meow."

Her next statement was clear and to the point. SHe had little intention of letting him go. She was merely toying with him, as a cat would. Roland decided he would test the waters slightly. As she spoke to him about his opinion and how much she didn't care about it, he pushed up and stood. He made no sudden moves, nor bolts of sprinting in one direction or another. He merely stodd. He was no longer going to be a victim, regardless of the outcome.

" Fair enough. I did start it and you did finish it. Or at least you finished it to the point where you were satisfied. Now what?"

Sara’s Cheshire cat smile remained. She sat there with her ankles crossed and her tail keeping that steady beat. “I’m unaware I was satisfied or that things were over.” Her head tilted. And she wondered exactly what he was going to do now. Obviously this was a rather proud man she had just busted down to his rightful level. Would he try to gain some of that lost steam back? What an odd old man he was.

“How about I give you a warning to stay away from Vector and you obey that command.” Yeah that seemed appropriate for now. Sara could handle herself. Luke was blind after all.

" Yes, those images were disconcerting, to say the least. What causes that, exactly?

Sara shrugged. The man was starting to get to his feet and Sara stayed where she was seated, comfortable, confident, and alert. It was hard to sneak up on a cat. Especially when she already might hold a grudge against you. “Don’t know, don’t care.” Another straight up lie. Sara knew exactly how those shadows came into her vision. But that was none of this imposter’s business.

Oh, and by the way, do you have a name? I suspect it isn't Meow Meow."

“You can call me Were.” The name was only partial of the full code name Sara had been given on the street. This was probably the only time Sara had introduced herself using this name too. She didn’t see this one worthy of calling her Sara. At least not yet.

She watched him carefully as he stood. Her body was relaxed but she was still looking for an attack of some kind. An excuse to play the hunter some more.

Were. It wasn't terribly original, but it was something to remember. A bit of bile was rising in Roland's throat. he didn't suspect acid reflux. It was the kind of bile he recalled tasting when he had to suffer the most annoying Order member he had met. Possibly the only one, as well. This cat really was sitting pretty there, watching him, trying to bat him around like a plush toy full of catnip. Her vague answers were more batting, more mewing. He was finished with her.

He nodded as she spoke and began pacing, eyes pointed to the ground. To her, only his head would be pointed down, as the eyes and the rest of his face and its revealing tells of eye flashes and grins would be undetectable, hidden behind the black polymer mesh of the hood and the eerie cross of the HUD. She could certainly defeat him in a fair fight. Roland generally looked at fair fights with distaste, feeling that any and everything that could be used in his favor should be.

There were a few tricks he still had up his sleeves. Two of them literally were there at his forearms and wrists. The one that would be played in this scenario was a small canister with a small pin release. A grenade, yes. However, this one was known as a 'flashbang' , in common use by S.W.A.T. teams and other paramilitary organizations. It released a deafening blast, a searing phosphorus based flare and a good bit of a concussive blast for flavor. The canister appeared in his left hand, the pin in his right.

Without a moment's hesitation, a wave, a bow or any other type of dramatic fluff, Roland stepped backward off of the edge of the roof, his body hurtling down. After he cleared the side, he hurled the grenade up and over. Whether it hit or not, Kitty's senses would not be pleased with the residuals. His arms to his sides, two pitons fired from his wrists, the wires reeling out until the hooks found their marks. Roland felt a slight jerk in the line as his body was stopped. As the slack gave, the lines and pitons were securely nestled back into his wrists, his feet on the ground.

Those feet began making tracks through the alleys, no concern for the angry and frazzled kitty left behind. First, the mask came off. It would be easier to explain a bodysuit with a human face. Fortune smiled as he turned into the next alley. A man was emptying the trash from a discount clothier, shredded paperwork and takeout boxes strewn about. Roland didn't break his stride as he came up on the man, his hand wheeling to the side and a thumb extended to shock the man's temple. He found his way into the stockroom , where he sifted through anything that fit. Style was irrelevant.

Looking out into the alley, a bare chested Roland pulled the man inside and closed the door behind him. No reason to nearly escape only to leave an unconscious victim behind to alert the feline. He didn't let the brief rest slow him. He quickly came out of all but his boots, taking the man's briefcase and emptying it to replace it with his suit, which didn't want to go in so easily. Roland had to slow his breathing and wipe his face, working meticulously to arrange the suit and its contents in a manner that would allow the case to close. He sat in the break room chair and breathed evenly.