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Cut Scene: Many Years Earlier

Somewhere outside an Azatlani Lower University

She is just skipping lightly down the steps outside the school, glad that it's finally over, and happy to see her boyfriend heading towards the gates in the near distance, when she notices the skeezy dude approaching. He's sort of big, even though he's not that tall, and he's wearing an off-white, sorta overly large greyish hoodie that drapes way too far forward down in front of his eyes, which might explain the oddly graceful way he blunders into the male members of the swim team, who are walking along in a sort of parallel line forming an aquatically enhanced semi-human wall.

Skeezy dude staggers, sort of pushes off from the guys to the left and right of him with absolutely no respect for personal space, accidentally clips one of them lightly in the face with his elbow of all things, then somehow regains his balance and turns around, as if to apologize. Like, way!

For a moment it seems there'll be an altercation and skeezy dude will surely be smacked down, but the whole thing is so clearly accidental that they just can't quite seem to make a fight out of it. There's no_way_ he could've done that deliberately, right? Skeezy dude dusts off his palms on his matching baggy trousers in the same off-white that co-ordinates his ensemble, sort of noticeably unnoticeable, and pats shoulders and is clearly very sympathetic about his clumsiness.

The guy he hit, who she never liked that much even though he's a friend of her boyfriend, walks off scowling and rubbing his face even though it was purely random, like he was looking for some excuse to go back and get some retaliation. Her boyfriend talks it off, apparently not wanting to attract attention. As she closes the distance, she hears him say 'not now' and 'tomorrow night' to which the injured guy mutters something about 'take it out on her instead' and 'gonna really feel it' although she's too far away to make most of it out.

Something about 'charging admission'?

Skeezy dude is almost level with her when he flops down onto a low wooden bench, one of a row that line the side of the path for the students convenience, a handy height to put bags or carried objects on, or to cluster around with friends to eat lunch and make conversation. He drags back his hood in a graceless gesture and regrettably he's pretty much what she expected. Dark straggly hair, poorly shaven or lightly bearded depending on your point of view, with freaky eyes which can't decide whether to be green or blue. There's something subtly wrong about the shape of the irises, just a little bit too oval, and the skin seems just slightly too dark around his eyes and neck, not a natural shade at all. Probably one of those new druggies who take the stuff that changes you instead of just making you high, rather than proper licensed body modifications. Chasing dragons, is what she's heard it called.

She hopes that he won't try to talk to her, so naturally of course he does. Uggh!

"You might wanna be careful of them, it sounds like they planning something real bad," he growls at her in gravelly tones, sounding like he's been drinking or smoking or who knows what.

"That's my boyfriend you're talking about," she declares insolently, and prepares to sweep by with her head held high when he adds something that stops her in her tracks.

"They're really angry about something," he clarifies. "I think they're going to do something to one of the girls at that cheerleaders meet tonight."

It throws her for only a fraction of a second, but that's enough, before she can compose herself and deliver her reply. "What cheerleading meet?" she asks. "There's no meet tonight."

"You know what I'm talkin' about," says skeezy dude, in tones that suggest staring at cheerleaders who are way out of his league is one of his favorite dirty habits. "The all unofficial one? That ain't supposed to be happening but it is? That one."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denies with a sort of formal self-consciousness, just in case this is some sort of trap to get her to admit to the unofficial event that manages to happen at least twice a year, despite the constant efforts of the school administration to close it down for 'safety reasons'.

"They's gonna be doing something a whole lot worse than just droppin' her," mutters the skeezy dude ominously. "I totally heard 'em say it when I crashed inna them. That hot lioness-lookin' girl, she really in for it."

He starts rolling a suspect-looking cigarette and doesn't seem to want to say anything else, like he's discharged some sort of obligation by telling someone, anyone what he just overheard. And normally she wouldn't believe a word of it, especially not from a piece of street trash like him, but she remembers the few words she caught from her boyfriend and his friend over the background noise, before skeezy dude brought a halt to her and they moved away.

Wanting not to, but unable to help herself, she reluctantly makes up her mind and turns around, heading back up the stairs and inside. Persuading herself is a struggle and she really just wants to not think about it, but she just can't make herself let it go.

After she's safely gone, the skeezy dude, who looked like he was just on the verge of lighting his dodgy cigarette, abruptly folds up both lighter and reefer and disappears them into his concealing sleeves. He shambles amiably away until he reaches the nearest adjoining building at the side of the path, but just as soon as he's rounded the corner, his whole demeanor changes. He straightens up, his posture transforming into a powerful stride. The hoodie gets pulled back and streamlined, quite suddenly appearing very classy and street instead of cheap'n'trashy. The subtle darkening of the skin around his eyes and neck fades away quite casually, as though he was just walking out of the shadows and into sunlight.

"I'll see you soon," he promises the empty air, looking back at the vacated buildings.