Oh lovely. Having a nice little chat with and her First Nations headmate when I detect some weirdo with a rabbit head on the edge of my awareness. Nothin’ too weird about it, right? I’m talking to a wolf-girl, so maybe it would be another friendly? 

NOPE. 

Let my guard down for one second and this is what happens.  Maybe this is some kind of karmic punishment for my presumption that everything would work out just because I was here. I guess it was that tunnel-vision. I knew the thing my biokinetic senses weren't good for detecting were inorganic in nature - weapons, tools, technology - and I could’ve noticed the position of the bunny gunman’s hands. If I had time to shake my head, I would’ve.

But I didn’t. Because capes didn’t have time to shake their head all depressed-like. 

A bullet is propelled by a controlled explosion, so too is the nature of my power. I aim down the barrel with my mind’s eye, centering the leporidaean in my sights. The gun is loaded. The safety is off. All that’s left is to pull the trigger. 

"Halt." (‘[i]Bang.[/i]’)
[hr]
[b]Burn Counter:[/b] 3
[b]Conditions:[/b][list][*]Afraid (-2 to directly engage a threat)[/list]