It was a strange encounter from the start. The man had set up a card table on a street corner, conning simple passersby out of their money. There were far more sordid ways he could approach the art of the con, but considering his current lack of a significant power, he would much rather resort to the old ways as opposed to risking being discovered.
His hands had been manipulating the cards when he first felt the presence. Initially, there had been a tingling in his fingertips, but when the feeling spread through his arms towards his chest, he knew that there was something –rather, someone– throwing him off. Pale eyes searched the circle of faces around him. None of them were the cause. They were far too normal, far too naïve, far too boring. Just when he thought he may have imagined the feeling, that jolt in his senses returned and for a moment, Babet lost focus, his hands fumbling with the cards, a visible hiccup in his normally perfect act.
The mistake would cost him profits for the day, but that was the least of his worries now. There was someone here that he needed to find. The final bets were placed and he purposefully lost the scam, creating his gambit needed to shut down business for the day. Pocketing his cards and what few bills he hadn’t lost, he abandoned the table and stepped into the crowd, letting his fingers absently brush against strangers. He felt nothing. Whoever had caused the disturbance was gone from this crowd.
And almost like fate, there had been an opening in the passing crowd enough so for him to see a figure attempting to flee his street corner, walking just a fraction faster than the rest. But as much as fate had provided Babet with this moment of opportunity, his rashness caused him to undo such luck and he called out before he could stop himself. “You! Stop–” He took to his feet and attempted to catch up with the other.
