Vincent had often been more of a night-owl. Ever since his reawakening, it had been more pronounced. Whether it was his own quirk that made him lurk in the higher places, or some lingering tendency from whatever Hojo had done to him that allowed him to shapeshift (and brought his inner demons out) he couldn't say.
It did mean that he blended in well in the dark and stillness. It was also quieter as the sound of the crowds was a dull roar instead of thundering din. Even with a purely 'human' body though, he'd been trained and in the middle of too many things, to not pick out the piercing shriek.
It wasn't close nor was it too far off, and Vincent frowned to himself. He had vainly hoped that the only trouble the sports would bring were the kind of disappointed fans making trouble. Which it could still be, but not that kind of trouble.
It wasn't his problem--which is what he tried to tell himself. It didn't work, not when Avalanche had been rubbing off on Vincent. Not when his greatest sin, had been that he had only 'watched' before. Stretching, he moved in the direction he'd heard the shriek from.
Re: Night
It did mean that he blended in well in the dark and stillness. It was also quieter as the sound of the crowds was a dull roar instead of thundering din. Even with a purely 'human' body though, he'd been trained and in the middle of too many things, to not pick out the piercing shriek.
It wasn't close nor was it too far off, and Vincent frowned to himself. He had vainly hoped that the only trouble the sports would bring were the kind of disappointed fans making trouble. Which it could still be, but not that kind of trouble.
It wasn't his problem--which is what he tried to tell himself. It didn't work, not when Avalanche had been rubbing off on Vincent. Not when his greatest sin, had been that he had only 'watched' before. Stretching, he moved in the direction he'd heard the shriek from.