eyes flashed alight in the shadows.

cassio watson was new york's black cat. the concept of black cat criminals were not uncommon to the wider media-- nor the expanse of the multiverse-- the most notable being felica hardy, and of course, cassio, who roamed new york as if it was his own personal playground. he never had a proper family, and his youth was fraught with finantial troubles to a point where his family simply could not host their son any longer. so it was to the streets. he however, had the misfortune to be bitten by a radioactive cat, however that had happened, resulting in what he was today.

at face value he was a normal 19 year old guy, a bit scrappy perhaps, with his bleach-blond hair had overgrown so his dark brown roots were obvious, hanging in waves over his cold amber eyes. but then again, sharp canines and a cat-like slyness also seemed to be prevelant for as long as he could recall.

the sirens in the night-logged museum went silent, the expansive atrium quiet as a moore in the middle of nowhere-- indicating the arrival of another presence in the building. not the cops.

he caught sight of you, his face breaking into a positively mocking grin. "ah, le ragno." he mused, sliding down from where he'd been hanging on the ceiling by the retractable claws in his suit he'd used to latch himself to the ceiling. "of course you had to show up and interrupt my fun."