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Na'fiel raised an eyebrow at him poking her shoulder, but acknowledged his words. Though he wasn't the smartest man that she had ever met, they did share a situation.

"I fight to live, you live to fight," she mused, then changed the subject, "Not many are here at night. If we stay here long enough, he should appear. Hybrid, that is." The mermaid could tell that Arkus relied on his strength. She herself relied more on agility and outsmarting her opponents. She posessed like physical strength...except in the water.

Now hopefully I don't get wet any time soon... she thought, wondering briefly what would happen if she did. Well, it would be near impossible to walk, let alone fight. Then again, she could always use her poison for anyone that got too close.

Her wrists were dangerous weapons during close combat. They could cut and slash, but also injected poison, enough to possibly knock a man out. Na'fiel also noted the homeless man on the bridge. He seemed to radiate some kind of strange aura, but it wasn't one that she recognized. It didn't feel like Hybrid at all...

The old blind man looked over slowly at the drow. It wasn't noticable in the dim park, but a drow with low-light vision or dark vision would see it. He winked at her, from the tipped down sunglasses. Those eyes seemed to be the same as the man she had met in the pocket dimension. The same one she had sat beside.

Hybrid was helping them out, by making small little intricate details open for their sensory probes to investigate. The hair around the face would hide the movement and the wink well. He would now move to 'look' back at the water, or listen to it. Whatever you'd like to think. Now to wait for the rest to see him. If they could of course.

The old blind hobo remained stationary as if taking in his home, or his territory, except that he was blind. No aura of anything more than a once powerful person it seemed. So odd though that he wore only about 2 layers...and it was September. Nearing the time when these type of men would be finding a place to live in, or more 'suitable' clothing to wear.

"Looks like our friend the elf is here... what was his name? Kot? Cod? Carp?" Arkus tried to remember. He wasn't fond of elves, as they were the exact opposite of minotaurs.

Elves posessed what was, by human standards, beauty, and even Arkus wanted that from time to time. Elves were weak, and by Arkus' standards unfit to fight and even lacking honor in some of their ways, such as magical combat, even though there were shamans among the minotaur tribes, but they used magic with muscle, an admirable thing.

Elves also had this superiority, or perhaps, inferiority complex where they had to be better than everyone else. Or more or less, from their viewpoint, they are better than everyone else. They were an arrogant race, and arrogance was the first sign of lack of honor. Honor was Arkus' life. That without honor had to be taught the strengths of honor...

Elves, while more nimble than minotaurs, would be nearly doomed should the elf taunt one in a hall. The minotaur would charge, the elf would squeal and run, and get torn in half by the sheer force and horns of the attacking minotaur. Rule number one about minotaurs: you don't taunt them.

Even on a good day, minotaurs could be exceptionally short-tempered. This is probably the reason that minotaurs never think things through, and Arkus was no exception. Rule number two about minotaurs: always follow rules number one.

Arkus crossed his arms, regarding the elf with little more than scorn. "Hopefully he'll change his arrogant tune..." Arkus snorted his bull-like snort. His gaze shifted to the blind man.

"There is something... odd about him..." Arkus was never a people person, either, as most minotaurs were. A tribe in the minotaur homeland meant you slept in huts in the immediate area. Most minotaurs did not know their fellow tribesmen, and if they did, they had either fought against or alongside each other before. Combat was the minotaur way of life. Barehanded, magically enhanced, or even with weapons such as greatswords and giant axes were acceptable, honorable ways of fighting. Elves fought with speed, stealth, small, nimble weapons, and generally backstabbed when they could. Not an honorable way at all...

Arkus snorted. He decided to go talk to this blind man, ask him about his life. He approached the blind man carefully. "Excuse me, sir..." The tall, brown-skinned minotaur said. "I was wondering... who exactly are you?" He decided to play up to the aura this man was emitting, the one that felt like he had been someone famous before. "Haven't I seen you on the television before? Perhaps in the newspaper?" Arkus acted like he hadn't a clue, which wasn't much of an act, and more like a truth. He was seriously thinking to attempt to get Hybrid to come out of hiding... which wasn't working too well.

Still up in the tree, Zani heard snippettes of the conversation, and resisted the urge to laugh very loudly. Instead she settled with a bit of a restrained chuckle, shaking her head as she let herself down from the tree. It was clear to her that they were relatively safe now. Giving the area a quick scan, the drow didn't see anyone else.. The sun was quickly dimming, and darkness would be a great asset to Zaniah's eyes.

Putting out the still smoking cigerette she had dropped at the base of the tree earlier, the dark woman leaned against the thick trunk casually.

((Ugh.. craptastic..))

Z'Kort watched as the minotaur strolled over to supposed hobo. And as the man turned toward Arkus, he flashed a dazzling smile. That man's teeth are amazingly white, he thought. This was the last piece to firming his belief that the bum in the park was not a bum in the park. In fact, the bum in the park was probably the Hybrid in the park.

As the sun fully set and night came upon the small troop entirely, Kort strolled over to the bridge. He was close enough to the conversation to hear it, but not close enough to join it, which was all fine and dandy. Talking to Hybrid wasn't on the elf's top ten list of things to do. Instead he stood at a careful distance away, enjoying the evening's sky.

A thick Russian accent floated towards the speed demon, giving a smile to his features. Somehow the scenario Hybrid had put out just seemed too much. A foreign minister dumped randomly upon the enemy soil? The idea just didn't seem too likely. Kort had spent a couple years on American soil and considered himself to know a good amount of its culture along with some of the other countries' general cultures and beliefs.

Whatever, he thought, looking over at the two. The elf gave a small wave and eased himself onto the grass near the water's edge. Wriggling to find a somewhat dry spot, he leaned back letting the tight-knit sweater to stretch over taut abs. His arms braced him up and his legs stretched out, the picture of a lover waiting for the loved.

The blind man kept that smile and then slowly removed his sunglasses...black. Not gold as each and every one of them seemed to expect. This couldn't be Hybrid then. He already told them that beauty was his main thing in transforming. The man kept smiling at the minotaur.

"That they do comrade. Our mutual friend enjoys moving in them as well." The perfect russian accent was gone. Replaced by a voice with nothing of an accent. It was a perfect voice. Suddenly the man turned to look and point out each person in the park. He pointed to the drow who had seen the 'golden eyes' He turned his sunglasses for her to see the golden back to them. That would reflect a golden image for another to see...

Suddenly the man turned back to Arkus and kept smiling as if he could see him perfectly. "Hybrid waits in the shadows. He resides in your shadows, my shadows, and everywhere. He is the shadows friend..." He then motioned to the quivering shadows before suddenly parts of the four occupants, and almost every other one in the park shot out toward the bridge.

Each then flew up into the air and met. Hybrid floated in the air, his arms out to the sides. He had tricked them into thinking something. He had used another psychic like person. A little different of course, but that didn't matter. Hybrid's cloak floated about him, his weapons at his sides, only the five wakizashi's unseen to the eye.

Hybrid opened his golden eyes as he floated down to the streambed. He landed atop, without going into the knee deep water. His hood fluttered a bit as a breeze built and other things. A flashy entrance? Maybe, but more so of an intimidating one. His power was obvious to the five other people in the park. No one else could feel the incredible power this man held.

His voice uttered those words again, those they hadn't heard since yesterday. "Welcome back my fighters...You didn't expect to be able to know me so easily did you? This is a friend of mine who has studied around the world in languages, and psychic ability. That doesn't matter now though. It is time for you to come closer and learn of the plan. We shall infiltrate tonight. Tis almost time so hurry. Even you Z'Kort..."

His golden eyes moved slowly along the members in the park. He didn't look behind him at Arkus though. It was as if he didn't know the minotaur was there...then again wasn't that impossible for Hybrid so far?

Z'Kort shrugged and hovered around, waiting for something to do. "Aye aye, cap'n," he replied, saluting smartly-as smartly as anyone who was sitting down could. Doing so caused some feathery strands of his black hair to fall into his eyes, blocking a good portion of his vision.

"Hnh, should do something about that," the elf muttered, then stood up with a small stretch. The show of power was to be expected. Hybrid's favorite thing to do seemed to be to shout, if not verbally, "LOOK AT ME I'M COOLER THAN YOU!!!" But whatever, Kort was not to be fazed.

Actually, the little speed demon was on the last edges of his sanity pulling back his anger. He knew the man was more powerful and he knew he would lose. How can one charm a man who has no ability to take charm?

I desparately need another bagel, he thought miserably. Or something refreshing...like orange juice. Z'Kort delighted in orange juice. Back in his own world they hadn't the right temperatures to cultivate such sweet fruits, here they could MAKE the temperatures. A miracle of miracles occurred whenever he opened his refrigerator.

Arkus, was, at best, very surprised at this grand entrance. Not so much that he nearly fell backwards into the water, but surprised enough to take a few steps back. "Well, then..." Arkus snorted and cracked his knuckles.

Arkus heard the part about the infiltration. Good. It was about time... Arkus wanted it to start. He wanted to crack some heads, some dishonorable heads...

"Where do we begin, Hybrid?" Arkus asked, turning to the mystical man that had led them this far. "I am eager, eager to see what this is about, and eager to see how I fare against these dishonorable fools..." Arkus cracked his knuckles. It was easy to mistake the celerity of a minotaur to get into a fight for cruelty, but it was quite the opposite. Fighting was the way of life for minotaurs. They would duel each other, prove each other worthy, and move up in the hierarchy of minotaur tribes, though it was more honorary than anything official. Of course, honor was everything to a minotaur... honor and strength. Everything else was secondary...