Samael's gasping for the cold air that filled his lungs hurt almost as much as the effects from whatever he was recovering from. Some sort of cloth was covering his eyes as he began to move to figure out what had happened. Pulling aside the cloth that was covering his, his surrounding looked even stranger to him. A bare room with a small wooden door and silence to compliment the mood. 

Rising up from a cold slab of some sort, Samael could see that he was disrobed and a metal object was protruding from his left side. Scanning around the room he could only see a smaller metal table with several metal medical looking instruments on it and some weird looking long pipe with a tube on it. 

** Footsteps ** 

He could hear footsteps  in the distance and a closing of a door, then ..... spanish music? In the distance growing lound with each step that was getting closer. Samael’s wings were bound but not for long as his began to attempt to get up and his feet touched the cold stone flooring. As soon as he began to spread them, the death shroud removed in a instant as he began to stand. 

And.... that was about the same time when Sister Maria Crocifissa della Concezione walked into the room with her headphones (earbuds), took one look at a very relieving and naked Samael, dropping her her saws all on the floor and screaming for Father Hernandez in spanish. Then she covered her eye to his visage. 

Padre padre Hernandez!.

“Es un milagro! ¡El ángel samael ha resucitado como nuestro salvador! ¡Oh priase las saitns de arriba!”

With the saws all dropping to the floor, also the spear that was piercing him through his left side dropped from his body as he began to spread his wings. 

** Clang **

the scream and then saws all fell, then

** CLANG ** went the spear from his body.

The cold of the air in his lungs and the stone beneath his feet seemed as sharp as the blade that had pierced his flesh… though he couldn’t quite recall exactly how that had happened. The clatter of steel on stone and the shrill screams of the woman, too, evoked hazy recollections of… something… but that something seemed far away and long ago…

Her name was Aggy Hartwell and she had scarcely graduated high school. Young, excitable, and caught up in the exuberance brought on by achieving that valediction and, so, moving into the beginnings of her adult life, Aggy and a couple of her friends had ventured out into the city seeking the ‘appropriate celebration.’ Unfortunately for them, that first foray into the spectacle of speak-easies and swing dances led them into parts of San Francisco that were far darker than the signs and streetlights would ever have led them to believe. Their evening had started at what seemed to be a tame enough dance club with a steady stream of interested boys vying for the girls’ attentions, some with more success than others… again, unfortunately. It was one of these sharp-dressed charmers that had, in the end, wooed the giggling girls away from the city’s safer venues and into the far more private clutches of an underground club run by the Onigumo family.

By the time Aggy realized that someone had slipped her a roofie, both of her friends had succumbed to their own similarly doped drinks and were being dragged into some dark backroom. Aggy herself managed to stagger out of the club and into the rain-soaked streets before the drugs took too much of a hold on her and, thanks to the biting rain and a burst of adrenaline, had even been able to outrun the two Japanese goons who had pursued her into the night for a short time. The drugs won out over her stamina and determination before long, though, and her spinning head guided her face first into the pock-marked pavement of some garbage choked alley. Her stockings and the skin on her knees alike burned away as she tumbled headlong into the trash of the dank backstreet, her hands, too, suffered scrapes and cuts as they flew out before her in a futile attempt to keep her head from ultimately bouncing off the pavement. She made a weak attempt to get back to her feet but, between the drug-tainted alcohol, the fatigue, and, now, likely, a concussion, Aggy found that she scarcely had the energy to scream when the Onigumo thugs finally caught up to her.

That scream, if she had even let it loose, at all, got snatched away by the wind that seemed, suddenly, to come from all around her… or, perhaps, muffled by the ruffling pop-pop-pop of what sounded like an enormous pair of wings just above her head… Aggy tried to scream again and, at the same time, lift her eyes to see just what it was she was screaming about, but her vision was oh so blurry and her head so very heavy that all she could remember for a long moment was a brilliant flash of light followed by another powerful, omnidirectional gust of wind… and, then, the sensation of… flying?

When she awoke, some short while later, Aggy found herself lying on the grass amidst a small copse of trees on the edge of Golden Gate Park… miles from where she last remembered being and farther, she was sure, than she would have been able to make it on foot in what certainly must have been the very short time that had passed. She blinked in confusion, reached up to touch the spot on her head where it had met the street and, only then, when her fingertips failed to find the expected bump or cut or even trickle of blood, did she realize that a curious winged creature crouched beside her. Aggy nearly screamed again but something about the reassuring, yet, somehow sad smile he offered when her eyes met his stifled the scream and, instead, evoked another blink.

His sky-blue eyes sparkled from behind the long, raven-hued tendrils of hair that fell across his face and, despite the fact that he was clad in what appeared to be some sort of ancient armor worked in silver and blue, and had an enormous pair of blue-black wings issuing from his back that, now, sheltered them from the rain that fell on The City by the Bay, she felt more comforted by the creature’s presence than afraid of its appearance. Aggy opened her mouth to speak, realized that she had no idea what to say, and, offering a sheepish grin, closed it again.

The creature said nothing, either, merely returned the smile, offered a faint nod and placed his hand gently over the wound on her knee.

Aggy managed a squeak as the creature’s hand began to glow and she felt a tingling warmth spread through her… and a stunned gasp when the creature’s hand moved away to reveal clean, undamaged skin where, just an instant ago, it was a ruined as her stockings still were. “Are… Are you an angel, Mister?”

The question seemed to confuse him and, for an instant, that soft, enigmatic smile melted into something of a frown as he seemed to consider the answer. His wingtips seemed to flutter, then, in an attempt to flick the rain away and, the gentle smile returning as he mended the scrapes on her other knee, answered; “I don’t know… I… I am only Samael…”

Aggy Hartwell had told Samael about the friends who had been with her, that night, and, after he had seen her safely home, he had spent the next two weeks in search of them, eventually locating them (and a half dozen other opium-addled young women) locked in a shipping container on a ship (owned by one of the Onigumo Family’s interests) bound for Japan. Samael suffered grievous injuries in rescuing and returning the girls but, also, garnered more than a little suspicion and consternation as to his appearance… the populace of San Francisco seemed more interested in pointing out what was “wrong with him” as opposed to what he might have done “right”… and, so, he had flown away in hopes of finding a place where he might hide and recover from his wounds (which he found to be no small task for a ‘circus freak’ ). It was during this time… and, after The San Francisco Herald published an article, based on an interview with a Miss Agatha Hartwell, titled Saved by an Angel… that Father Hernandez had somehow managed to find him… offer him some sort of refuge… and, then, Samael had succumbed to his injuries and died…

He shook his head against the memories and the screams of the woman in the doorway. As the thick rustling sound of his feathers settling into place abated, he regarded the squealing woman curiously and raised his hands in hopes of quieting her. “Please, miss,” he smiled softly, “It’s… I… You don't need to... Where am I?”

Sister Maria Crocifissa della Concezione finally caught her breath and spoke calmly... 

“ Glory to the almighty” the sister spoke in english... “ You have risen, child” The sister cast her eyes downward and turned her attention to the running footsteps that could be now heard” 

“Please, miss,” he smiled softly, “It’s… I… You don't need to... Where am I?” Samael ask his question. 

“Your in the basement of the church, you remember, yes?” 

“Oh..” she gasped as she could hear the footsteps

“ I can hear the father coming , I’m sure that he will explain it all to you since you have been dead”. 

The footsteps go closer as a newer figure came into view. 

“ what happened sister” Father Haernadex asked the sister as she moved away from the doorway. 

“ Look” The sister pointed into the room as father Hernadez entered and smiled as he spoke. 

“I knew it, praise the almighty, I had faith that you would return to us here”. The Father explained. “ Oh my goodness, lets get you some clothing that will fit you. Father hernadez moved over to a corner to retrieve samael's greaves, plate and lion cloth”. 

“Here, I think that you might be missing these...” the father smiled “so... what was the other side like and did the big man talk to you about us?” he questioned. 

Father hernadez waved his hands and then said “ Nevermind... if it is be be relieved to me, it will be of his will... So. alot has happened since you left us and we must be very careful from now on”. 

“Sister... throw on a pot of coffee and clear the way to the kitchen... “Im sure that your famished, right?” he asks. 

“ Better yet... sister!” 

The sister once again stopped in her tracks to obey his commands 

“ Yes Father?” 

“ To the... *whistles*.. You know, yes?” He give a head tilt

“ Awwwh... yes, Father to the Aerie, I understand. It shall be done, Father. 

The sister quickly exited from outside the room down the hallway to complete her task. 

“ Well then... Samael, i’m sure that you must have some question or.......not for me but I must impress upon you that your activities in the past have attracted not so nice people, okay?” 

Father herndez then excused himself as Sameal was getting dressed in from of him, he turned to the side

“ You remember that girl.... You know, the girl that you found, like a stay, yes?” Father hernadez tilted his head back and forth. “ Well... after she told her story to the newspaper. People came to the city to see if you were real...” 

“ I hid you for a reason Samael... to do good but to leave the glory to a higher calling, yes, you under me, no?” he still poke in a thick hispanic accent. 

“ I’m not questioning the all might’s work... but your making it hard to hide you. I have to move your body twice, my friend, No bueno. 

Father hernandez turns to samuel as he is full dressed. 

“ Awh... look at you my son, you are muy guapo...” 

After many questions and answers Father Hernaez leads our hero to his Arie.... above the catholic church. 

“ Now remember samael, Don’t let anyone see you, for it will bring others and trust no one for they will sell you for a few coins to line their pockets' '. 

In the Arie

Above in one of the tower the two talked in more detail about San francisco and how people were beginning to notice samael's exploits. 

https://goo.gl/maps/ra7jDRzX8jMzQJFK7

“Now Samael, promise me that you will be more careful.... Examine the map at your leisure and try to find safe places to hide while doing good works for the almighty, and remember... Everyone is still afraid, my son. So many people believe but the devil’s workshop has a full effect in this city. 

nekomata woman

Her eye adjusted to the light of the asain temple that were holding of prayers.  But why was she in the temple and not her home?. Are the gods so cruel to disturb her from her sleep?. 

The woman looked around her unfamiliar surroundings and began to move around the temple. Her cat ear twitched as she tried to pick up new sounds.... 

The woman stood still

*listened for a bit then with a great leap she climbed the wall and looked for a way out of the temple. Within a few minutes, the nekoma woman found that opportunity. 

As she emerged from the temple and to the roof of the structure, this was home... and it certainly wasn’t Kansas, even though she had never visited Kansas before either. 

The sight before her....

(Going to use [ and ] to denote speaking in Japanese)

[How long was I out?] CC rubbed her head as she looked out over the unfamiliar terrain, [Where... where am I?]

Taking stock of herself, she noted that she had nothing with her from the previous (was it previous? She didn't know) night. Leaning out over the edge of the roof, she looked around, taking glimpses at the passers by on the sidewalk below her. Copying their shapes, she let her ears and tails merge into her body, those non-human features disappearing from sight. She borrowed the curled blonde hair of one woman, the dress of another, and the skin tone of a third. It took far more effort to get her incisors to reduce to the appropriate size for a human mouth, [No, no no no, no biting. Don't need blood. I don't]

The weakness she could feel in her body told her otherwise, but she'd sooner find the prescription she needed than take blood from an innocent person...

If her ears were still showing, they'd quiver as she heard the sound of rapid footsteps from an alley nearby. Someone chasing another someone?

Blood from a not-innocent person... bit of a grey line there. Or at the very least, she reasoned that if she truly needed to, better that than an innocent.

Slinking along the rooftop line, she walked around until she was directly above them. A mugger taking the purse from a woman they had cornered. CC's lips curled back in a snarl, before she dropped down behind them. Landing on her feet, she punched the mugger in the stomach to wind them when they turned around in surprise, before taking the purse back from them and giving it to the woman.

"That way! Go quick! Call police!" CC shooed the woman out of the alley, before looking back to the mugger.

"You're going to pay for that, b*%#" the mugger swore, drawing a switchknife and lunging forward with it.

CC grabbed the extended hand, and went with the momentum, pulling the mugger off his feet, kicking him as she brought her feet up, and sending him into the wall behind her as she followed through with the reverse somersault, once more landing on her feet. Seeing the mugger completely dazed, CC looked around quickly, to make sure no one was looking. With a sigh she took hold of the mugger's arm, pulled back their sleeve, a disgusted look crossing her face before she bit.

It wasn't much beyond a sip, even as she felt as if she needed more. She quickly bandaged the mugger's wound.

If I had a phone, I could call police myself... but I don't have anything. What number even is police here? And where is here? CC wondered.

With no other option, she left the mugger where they were with a sigh. She had told the woman being mugged to call the police anyhow. Hopefully that would do it?

Not the most heroic things she could have done, but without knowing where she was, and with no resources available to her, CC's options were limited. She retreated further into the alley, before she changed her appearance again, borrowing the skin tone and shape of the woman she had hopefully rescued. When she stepped out on to the street, she walked up beside another there, "Hello," She offered with a fang-less smile, "I'm rather lost right now - could you tell me the time, and point me towards the nearest transit stop?"

As soon as the nekomata woman changed her form and took on the complexion she was able to blend very well among her fellow asians. Coming out of the alley that was oh so small from the Tin How Temple

Just as she was about to ask where the closest transit area was, she heard commotion coming from the alley as an elderly man with at least 6 young men with sticks pushing a younger asian man out into the open. 

“ Shame on you for robbing your own people, you have no face!, for shame on you!” the elder spoke and the younger 6 began to once again beat the would be mugger?. 

“ No senor, it's true... she bit me and took the purse for herself it wasn’t me!” 

I high shrill female voice contested that remark “ “you lie... you lie, the woman gave me back my things that you stole, you... you deliequiet.. You!”

“ Please tell them that she bit me and that she nearly killed me. My stomach hurts and then she --” 

 "Hello," She offered with a fang-less smile, "I'm rather lost right now - could you tell me the time, and point me towards the nearest transit stop?"

“ It's ... “ The young lady with a small child looked at her watch then to her and spoke “ It's almost 1023 pm. You can go to the clay st and stockton stop, it's  about two to three blocks”. The young woman pointed the way. 

“No..no, really,  look she ripped my clothing to make a bandage... see... I have a wound!”. The man showed his arm to the small forming crowd. 

The ones closer gasped

Murmurs echoed

“ It's true...”

The eldest Man then moved closer to examine the wound.... “ We take you first to Dr. Yee, then to the Police!” 

Murmurs continued to echo through the crowd.. “ Was it a dog?” a passerby asked another  “No.. it was a woman”. 

“No woman can make a bite like that... your crazy , blind or stupid” A fatter man interjected himslef into the conversation that was building up with the crowd. 

“ Too many strange things have been happening at night this year. Did you hear about the witch they found?” A person remarked. 

“ Stop it all of you”  a middle aged man spoke to the crowd “you are all a bunch of superstitious... GOSSIPERS!”... most of the crowd began to argue up until 

“ There is not such a thing as monsters, ghosts or ---” the man spoke as he was lifted into the air by something big, dark and fast. 

The crowd panicked , yelled, screamed and everyone started to run for cover. 

The more the Sister spoke, the more clouds were stripped away from Samael’s memories…

“You’re in the basement of the church,” the nun told him, her eyes downcast, “you remember, yes?”

…Sister Maria, the name whispered into clarity as, with a gasp, the woman’s eyes turned to the sound of approaching footsteps, and this place is… the Saints Peter and Paul Church… is that right?... “I think I’m beginning to, Sister, yes.”

“I can hear the father coming,” Sister Maria said, still hesitant to lay her eyes on him, “I’m sure that he will explain it all to you since you have been dead.”

Dead? Samael blinked in confusion, his wings wrapping around him, now, against the chill of the room. How is that possible? His ice-hued eyes fell upon the spear at his feet, then, and the miasma of his memory cleared all the more… his rescue of the girl from the Japanese gangsters… the search for her friends that had followed… and the battle with their captors that had resulted in their freedom and his own mortal injuries… How is it possible that I am still not dead? He stooped over and took up the spear, taking some comfort in its familiar weight and some secret delight when a brilliant light danced over the thing at his touch.

“I knew it,” a thickly accented male voice drew Samael’s gaze to the doorway, again, “Praise the Almighty!”

“Father Hernandez,” the angel nodded, his recognition of the priest coming more quickly than had his recollection of Sister Maria and the church.

“I had faith that you would return to us, here,” the Father beamed as he stepped into the room and, suddenly, seemed to realize that Samael stood there nude. “Oh! My goodness! Let’s get you some clothing that will fit you…” said the priest, somewhat sheepishly as he moved to retrieve a pile of armor and cloth from a table in the corner, “…Here, I think you might be missing these.”

“Thank you, Padre,” Samael smiled, accepting the accoutrements that he now easily recognized as his own. He set his spear aside, then, and proceeded to dress himself.

“So,” Father Hernandez continued as Samael strapped on his armor, “What was the other side like? Did the big man talk to you about us?”

“If I saw the other side, Father,” the angel replied almost apologetically, “I’m afraid I don’t remember it. The last things I can recall are… pain… peace… and you.”

“Never mind,” Father Hernandez said, then, dismissing his own eager questions with a wave of his hands, “If it is to be revealed to me, it will be of His will…”

Samael smiled faintly and offered a short nod in reply as the dark eyed man continued.

“So, a lot has happened since you left us,” the Father said, “and we must be very careful from now on, verdad?”

As the winged man continued donning his armor, the priest and the nun exchanged words that went largely unheeded by Samael but, in the end, Sister Maria had hurried off to tend to whatever it was Father Hernandez had asked of her and the Father, himself, had returned his attentions to Samael. “Well then, Samael, I’m sure you have some questions or…” the Latino priest prompted “…not for me, but I must impress on you that your activities in the past have attracted the attentions of some not so nice people, okay?”

“The Onigumo Family,” Samael answered softly, buckling the armored greaves over his shins, “I’m sorry to have brought trouble to you, Father…”

“You remember that girl… You know, the girl that you found like a stray, yes?”

“Aggie,” Samael nodded, “I remember.”

“Well,” the priest continued, “after she told her story to the newspaper, people came to the city to see if you were real…”

“But I was… dead,” the angel said quietly, “and so they found nothing.”

“I hid you for a reason, Samael,” the priest sighed, “To do good but to leave the glory to a higher calling, yes? You under me, no?”

“I don’t do what I do for glory, Father,” Samael murmured, taking up his spear, again, now that he was dressed, “I only wish to help.”

“I’m not questioning the Almighty’s work,” Hernandez explained, “but you’re making it harder to keep you hidden. I have to move your body twice, my friend. No Bueno.”

“I’ll try to be more careful,” the angel answered, his feathers rustling as his wings stretched and then folded against his back.

“Ah… look at you, my son,” the priest smiled, admiring the armored angel’s appearance, “Muy guapo.”

Samael offered a faint smile and bowed his head a bit; “Thank you, Father.”

Hernandez led Samael through the church, then, answering the winged man’s questions about the other girls he had rescued from the Onigumo’s clutches and whether or not Aggie was alright. The priest’s replies made him happy, of course; all the girls were alive and well, if still somewhat shaken by their ordeal. Aggie though, had taken some criticism and harassment as a result of her interview with the paper but, in spite of it all, she remained adamant that an angel had intervened on her behalf. By the time all of Samael’s questions had been addressed, the pair arrived at what the priest referred to as his Aerie in one of the church’s two towers. As Samael gazed out over the city and the bay, beyond, Hernandez continued on about San Francisco and how her people had begun to take note of Samael’s exploits; some of them even referring to him, now, as The Archangel of San Francisco.

Samael offered a faint chuckle and a shake of his head at this. “You believe me to be an angel, Padre,” he sighed softly, glancing back at the priest, “and, perhaps, so do the people of this city, but I believe I have told you before, I don’t know that that is what I am… or even what I want to be… I… I just want to help… to be accepted as any other resident of this city…” He shrugged, then, stepped up onto the stone bulwark between two of the tower’s columns, and began to spread his wings.

“Now, Samael,” Father Hernandez said, stepping closer and handing the winged man a folded map of the city, “promise me that you will be more careful…”

“I will do my best, Father,” Samael nodded, taking the map and tucking it under his breastplate.

“Examine that at your leisure and, perhaps, try to find safe places to hide while doing your good works for the Almighty… and remember, everyone is still afraid. So many people believe but the Devil’s workshop has a full effect on this city…”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Padre,” Samael nodded, again, “and I promise I’ll try to keep the devil from your doorstep.” Then, with a smile, Samael leapt from the tower, his blue-black wings spreading wide as they caught the wind and lifted him into the sky. “Thank you, again, for all you have done, my friend,” he called back, spiraling higher into the blue above San Francisco, “I’ll see you again, soon.”

((OOC: Okay… soooo, off on patrol, I suppose. Sam will fly in ever expanding circles outward from the church and over the city, doing his best not to draw attention but looking for any signs of anyone who might need his help.))

“ Too many strange things have been happening at night this year. Did you hear about the witch they found?” A person remarked. 

Strange things? Night? It's 10:30pm... CC thought to herself, I guess I count as one

“ Stop it all of you”  a middle aged man spoke to the crowd “you are all a bunch of superstitious... GOSSIPERS!”... most of the crowd began to argue up until 

“ There is not such a thing as monsters, ghosts or ---” the man spoke as he was lifted into the air by something big, dark and fast. 

The crowd panicked , yelled, screamed and everyone started to run for cover. 

CC's ears would have twitched if they were cat-like in that moment, and her eyes narrowed as she looked upwards. But the shape was too quick, too sudden - she didn't get a good look.

"Take cover! Go together! Take shelter at station! Don't split up!" CC called out with the voice of one of the louder men, trying to help organize the crowd even as she slipped away from the crowd and into the side street. One jump later, and she was on the roof. She shed her disguise, her ears and tails reappearing as she sniffed the air and scanned the airway, trying to catch sight or scent of whatever it was that had taken the man.

(assuming she can track the creature by some means)

Shifting to have a cat mask, and a short grey cloak, CC took a breath and began chasing after the being. Her tails aided her as she lept from roof to roof, keeping her balance on even precarious jumps. There was no way to be stealthy in a chase like this, so she opted for speed, rushing onward to see what it is she saw - her current prey, as it might be said.

Samael began to fly in ever expanding circles outward from the church and over the city, doing his best not to draw attention but looking for any signs of anyone who might need his help.Movement from the ground was normal... but when a group of people run in  burst pattern, this is what would catch Samael's eye. Something was moving at non human speed in leaps and bounds from roof to roof, was this the threat?.

** your perception is so good that you will probably miss nothing, even with a higher TN ( Target number ), good job!

---------------------------------------------

Her nose never lies.... 

She couldn’t see it but she could smell from where it once was. Lifting her nose in the air, so many smells, from the urine to the sea salt to the daily garbage that was going to be picked up early in the morning. But wait... what was this?. Movement.... In the air, something is flying like a bird. Your ears twicth in a cat like fashion to hear the beating for wings form above.

** If I calulated this corrrectly... you can jump preety high as in a vertical jump, impressive

your keen sence of smell, you can TRY to figure out where it is... but it's moving fast, so its all about where it was for now. BUT you can remeber this smell... 

As night fell over San Francisco, Samael swooped lower over the city, trusting the dark to help him avoid the eyes of those that wouldn’t understand or couldn’t accept what they were looking at should they happen to spot him. The lower altitude also facilitated closer scans of the city below and the denizens that teemed in its streets and, as such, left him feeling a bit closer to the populace that he doubted would ever accept him as one of their own. He hoped that someday, somewhere, he would find a place that he fit in and could walk among its people without being looked at like some sort of freak, of course, but, so far, such a place seemed beyond his reach. For now, then, he contented himself with the friends he had made in Father Hernandez and Sister Maria and his self-appointed task of watching over the rest of San Francisco’s citizens from above… even if I can’t let them see me…

A soft sigh escaped him, muffled by the beat of his wings as he banked around and pointed himself toward Union Square and stolen away by the breeze that blew in from the bay. His wings spread wide, Samael glided silently toward Dragon’s Gate, decreasing his altitude even more at the beckoning of colorful neon signs and strings of lanterns and pennants that decorated the bustling maze of streets and alleyways that was San Francisco’s Chinatown. He had thought, perhaps, to take roost atop Old Saint Mary’s Cathedral and watch the goings on in Chinatown from that vantage point for a time but, as he soared toward his planned destination, the sound of panicked screaming drew his attentions elsewhere and he turned both his gaze and his wings toward the commotion. If the screams and shouts weren’t enough to let him know that trouble was afoot, the sight of frightened folk running in all directions certainly was. For a moment, though, Samael wasn’t entirely sure what had spooked the people so. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual happening at the location from which they all fled – no gangsters with guns, no crazed assailant laying about with a machete, nothing but…

What is that?

…Something moving faster than any human he’d ever seen was scurrying across the rooftops below, leaping effortlessly from roof to roof. The impossibly quick and nimble creature didn’t appear to be chasing any of the panicked people who had first attracted his attention but it did appear to be chasing something. Could the appearance of this cat-quick roof-runner have been what scared the crowd to begin with? Samael folded his wings a bit, diving lower as he altered his course to follow the incredibly agile creature’s course, then, with another flap or two of his feathered appendages, he was close enough to see it… Her?... more clearly. A cat-like mask covered her face and a short, grey cloak rustled behind her as she leapt from roof to roof, but it was the pair of tails weaving beyond the fluttering fabric of her cloak that truly piqued Samael’s interest…

Is this another ‘freak’ like me, he wondered, his feathers stroking the air to move him ahead of the creature, Another escapee from Anatashia’s carnival, even? He banked around, now, putting himself in her path and descended even lower. As adamant as Father Hernandez was about not letting himself be seen by San Francisco’s citizens, he had said nothing about the non-human ones.

“Where are you going in such a hurry, little one?” he called down to the creature as she neared the edge of her latest rooftop.

((OOC: I’ll cut it of there, for now, I suppose. I figure Sam is slowly descending at this point and possibly directly in the path of CC’s next leap… Perhaps slightly above… ))