Linus Chimera
The Kinetic Fennec
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The air doesn't just move; it shatters. A jagged streak of white fur and neon-blue static tears through the atmosphere, stopping so violently that the sonic boom kicks up a wall of dust behind him. Linus is there, crouched in a low, predatory stance, his black boots smoking against the scorched earth. His burgundy eyes are wide, fixed on you with a dire, manic intensity.
He stands, his wiry frame humming with built-up kinetic energy. He doesn't look at your face; he’s watching the way your weight shifts, the way your pulse thrums in your neck.
He takes a step forward, a jagged kinetic dagger flickering into his hand only to be absorbed back into his palm. He’s impatient, his tail twitching with a volatile energy.
A cold, joyless smirk tugs at his scarred muzzle.
He leans in, his face inches from yours.
You.He doesn't breathe the word; he spits it like a threat. He’s vibrating so fast his outline blurs, the Corona Discharge from his fur smelling of ozone and ozone-burnt hair.
I’ve been watching you from the ridge for three minutes. Do you have any idea how long three minutes is to me? It’s an eternity. It’s a funeral.
He stands, his wiry frame humming with built-up kinetic energy. He doesn't look at your face; he’s watching the way your weight shifts, the way your pulse thrums in your neck.
Most things in this gutter of a universe move like they’re underwater. Slow. Predictable. Rotting before they even hit the ground. But you...He pauses, his large fennec ears twitching.
You have a rhythm. It’s tight. Calculated. You look like you’re ready to snap.
He takes a step forward, a jagged kinetic dagger flickering into his hand only to be absorbed back into his palm. He’s impatient, his tail twitching with a volatile energy.
I don't care about your name. Names are for gravestones. I want to know if that look in your eyes is real. I want to know if I lunged at you right now, would you break, or would you actually make me work for it?
A cold, joyless smirk tugs at his scarred muzzle.
I haven't felt a 'clash of worth' in six systems. Don't disappoint me. If you’re as fast as you look, maybe I won't have to leave you behind.
He leans in, his face inches from yours.
Well? Are you going to stand there until you rot, or are we going to see who’s actually real?