Rhythm of the Rage
A thin, pale young man with spiky black hair stands at the back of the crowd, frowning vigorously and glaring at everyone around him. You can see the muscles of his jaw stick out as he clenches his jaw repeatedly. As you approach you can feel a wave of anger rush over you, and it's definitely somehow coming from him. So this is the punk causing all the trouble! Now that you recognize it for what it is, it's almost impossible to miss.
Rage boils within you, and you approach the kid with the intention of tearing him limb from limb for what he's done. You're literally two steps away from committing murder when the kid notices you approaching him. His countenance quickly snaps into a friendly smile, and your anger dissolves in a moment. Maybe the kid isn't so bad after all, you think. He certainly looks like a fine, upstanding young man. The trouble must be coming from somewhere else.
You're actually in the process of turning and walking away when you catch yourself. Even knowing that the kid can project emotions, you've nearly been caught by him again. Sneaky! But now that you realize what's going on you can fight it off with a little effort. He seems to realize that his powers aren't going to work on you, and cringes as you approach.
"Game over," you say. "I know what you're doing, and it stops now. I've gotta take you in, but it's up to you whether you walk or I drag you. What's it going to be?"
The kid holds out his hands, palms up. "I'm not a fighter. I'll be good." He seems even younger now that you're up close. You put a hand on his shoulder and lead him away, firmly but gently.
"So what's your name?" you ask.
"I call myself Rage," he says.
"You may want to rethink that. I don't think there's much of a future in that name."
You gain 40 experience.