Deceptive as slight of hand (Hob)

[Soen Spellflinger]

Soen Spellflinger is a magician. He can make things appear. He can make them disappear. He can guess which card you picked if you shuffle it back into his deck, but always on the third try. He also has another form of "magic"...the Force. It hangs latent within him, usually cropping up when his fears overtake him. It has manifested itself as fire, barriers, and earthquakes, saving him from danger when he needs it most. It hasn't boosted his confidence in the slightest.

He can't control it, and it's not strong enough to defend him completely. It only works when he's afraid. He hates it. It angers him to no end. Add on top of that his sudden other...problems...and he's feeling pretty overwhelmed. His mind turns over these thoughts as he sits on his park bench, not watching the passers-by to make sure they don't step on the cracks in the durracrete. Many are skirting wide of him in fact...something about him feels just awful...it's a terrible void in their hearts that produces almost tangible pain. The Darkside emanates from Soen Spellflinger.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

It took two flips and a hop for Hob to end up in front of Soen, seemingly come from among the crowd.

Then Hob hopped again, his claw-tipped feet scratching to a stop behind the bench.

Seconds had barely passed before two uniformed officers came running through. Though they did not spy their quarry, they seemed to think they were catching up to him as they hurried off along the walkway.

When they had gone, Hob vaulted the park bench and sat beside a surprised Soen, looking for all the world as though he had simply decided the day was nice enough for a spell of relaxation.

[Soen Spellflinger]

"What do you want?" Soen asks irritably. "If came to see a magic trick you'll have to miss out."

He doesn't feel like performing, and besides, this kid sneezed all over the deck of cards he's been using...

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob turned his slowly, grinning sideways at Soen.

Then his head grew to two times its size. "Graaaar!"

[Soen Spellflinger]

"GAH!"

Soen falls off the bench, swinging wildly to try and push Hob away. As he hits the ground he takes the staff he placed beneath the bench, scooting away as quickly as he can.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob leaned his head back, allowing Soen to miss him entirely. With a wicked gleam in his eye, Hob leapt on to the arm of the bench closest to Soen and with a flick of his finger, a fireball hovered above one hand. "My own tricks, do I have."

[Soen Spellflinger]

He scowls, sitting up slightly and glaring at the little darksider.

"I can do that too," he grumbles. "It's no big deal. I can make earthquakes and barriers too."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Oh, can you now?"

The dwarf tossed the fireball into the air and began juggling it. As he continued, more fireballs appeared into the rotation until he had no less than five going at once.

"Prove it," said Hob.

[Soen Spellflinger]

Soen turns to look at a piece of art on display. He's always thought the public piece of art was horribly done, and besides, its covered in tons of ugly graffiti. He points the ornate staff at it and mutters in an almost malicious tone.

Ignesco.

A tiny ball of fire shoots from the staff, flying straight and true to the monument. On impact it expands, blowing the monument away and catching fire to everything in a three meter radius from the monument's former position.

"A fireball. Basic enough."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob tilted his head, curiosity filtering into his expression. The fireballs landed in his hands and disappeared. "What else can you do?"

[Soen Spellflinger]

The park also has a playground, complete with a jungly-gym sort of thing and a sandbox. Some older children are hiding inside the construction with a pile of rocks, throwing them at the younger kids in the sand box. Soen's lip curls and his staff changes its orientation.

Obex...

The flying rocks bounce from Soen's Force barrier, falling to the ground harmlessly at the edge of the sandbox. The smaller children stick their tongues out at the bullies.

"That'll fix them..."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Boy, tell me," Hob said, hopping from the arm of the bench and staring directly at Soen. "Can you see the future?"

[Soen Spellflinger]

"Whaddaya mean, future?" he asks guardedly. "I'm no low-rate fortune teller."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Neither am I," Hob said, his speech becoming deep and measured. "I am a Dark Jedi and one of the few true Prophets of the Dark Side to exist. Your talents strike my interest."

[Soen Spellflinger]

Dark Jedi huh?

"And what do I care? The last darksider who approached me said something similar, but nothing good came of it. All I got was a twitch and a shot of obsessive-compulsive disorder."

He gives a derisive snort.

"Let's go somewhere else...The cops will be back with dogs to find you."

[Evil Hobgoblin]

"Do you fear them? The Lessers?"

Hob threw his head back and laughed in a completely different fashion than he had before- long and loud, not short and cackling. "Much to learn, you still have."

Hob turned and walked a short distance away. He stopped, turned back to Soen, and grinned. "If you would learn it, then come."

[Soen Spellflinger]

Afraid of Lessers? Soen's not sure who he means by that, but odds are that yes, Soen is afraid of them. Under any normal circumstances he would admit to it; play the pity card for a little ego-boosting attention, though it would later shame him and make him feel just that much worse.

However, this person feels the same as he does. Soen can feel the same terrible effect in the other's heart, and feels suddenly spurred on to follow him. He doesn't want anyone's pity. He feels determined, more so than ever, to discard the quiet, snivelling personality that he has developed. He wants to be powerful, and confident. Soen follows Hob, for once not stumbling over his own robes.