[center][hr][img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/3a14fcb4fd62522c6c056cc2425f530e/tumblr_pl1vd3iDAA1tfu57m_640.pnj[/img]

[b]Los Angeles - Café Belle Vie[/b][hr]

Well, [i]that[/i] was hard to ignore. The uproarious response from the café patrons washed over him, panicked voices and people getting close to the windows to watch the young man outside. He was barely focusing, mind numbed by the radio show he'd become infatuated with. Of course, that was the bad thing about Keandre, he didn't react [i]nearly enough[/i]. About two minutes passed before he freed his ear bud from his ear and put his phone on sleep mode. 

He didn't [i]think[/i] this kid needed his help but he also didn't [i]think[/i] anyone else needed his help either. He drew in a very deep breath, he exhaled in a very long sigh. He wound his ear buds around his phone, slipping it into his messenger bag and rummaging around with his free hand for his mask. That was the problem with this whole hero thing, he had to conceal his identity somehow but he didn't want to be one of those colorful dumbasses running around in full gear. 

[i]No[/i], Keandre had settled on the most minimal effort costume that he could get his paws on, [i]as if that was surprising in the slightest.[/i] It glinted in his bag, scarred fingertips clasping it from the side. A smooth, porcelain, featureless, black mask. It hid his face almost entirely, it made him look strangely inhuman, like some kind of faceless dark anomaly. 

He shrugged off his suede jacket, stuffing it in the bag before pulling up the hood of his hoodie. When he was sure that no eyes were on him, he strapped his mask on. Sure, it wouldn't be a flawless exit and some people were likely to wonder what happened to the tall red-headed guy that had been slumming it over a cup of coffee (without paying his tab, no less!) but that was hardly his problem. 

He nudged his way through the small gathering of people near the door. “[color=a0410d]Quelqu'un a omis de m'informer d'une fête.[/color]”

[hr][b]Loss Angeles - Outside Café Belle Vie[/b]
[@Count Cuddles] & [@Shard][hr]

When he stepped out of that café, he focused his thoughts. He keyed them into one singular goal and that was to somehow help this kid take down this villain, he knew that he wasn't much of a heavy-hitter but he [i]had[/i] been doing this long enough to create some maddeningly good distractions. “[color=a0410d]Over here, friend! I have something for you![/color]”

In the blaze of the sunlight, he looked quite normal, save for the disturbingly featureless porcelain-doll face. Just a tall, well-built young man in a hoodie and jeans, a beige messenger bag was slung over his shoulder. The opening flap of the messenger bag was clustered in colorful and clattering buttons. Most of them seemed to have band names, others seemed to have quirky little sayings, there were a few in French. 

His hands were covered in pale, marbled burn scars, they spider-webbed over his fingers. His right hand was moving, clenching and unclenching. His fingers curling and uncurling almost involuntarily, he was focusing very intently, aiming where he wanted his blast to go off. Not too close to the villain, not too far either, not too big. Just enough to startle him. 

He smiled faintly behind the sober lips of his porcelain mask. [i]The air was hot enough[/i], he released his power, like unfurling smoke. The sound was loud, ringing, like a gunshot and it [i]cracked[/i] through the air. A blast of heat that seemingly came from nowhere at all, it wasn't too large a blast but it would likely be startling nonetheless. 

It was a pocket explosion of extremely hot air, not quite a fire, that was [i]too[/i] much focus and he didn't think he'd have the chance to go tossing matches around. He also thought he might look genuinely ridiculous doing that.

Hopefully the little blast would be enough to hold the alligator-man’s attention and give Midnight an opening to better strike.[/center]