Gen-Wyld: Beyond Natural

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Harold’s Enhanced Perception interprets every scent and sight as though it were a silent “speech act” embedded in the world around him. Just as Speech Act Theory suggests that language conveys intent and action, Harold’s senses allow him to detect unspoken messages within scents and traces left by touch, movement, or presence. Each scent or invisible detail, like a fingerprint, becomes a form of communication—a kind of sensory language revealing clues about who or what was present, and what actions took place.

Through his heightened sense of smell, Harold treats scents as unique “signatures” left by individuals or objects, each telling its own story. To him, a scent is a lingering “utterance” of someone’s presence, as if their movements and actions left traces in the air. By differentiating between scents with precision, he can read this invisible narrative and connect it to people, places, and events he’s encountered before.

Harold’s vision allows him to see normally invisible details—fingerprints, bacteria, residual marks—as the “evidence” of actions, each trace a physical “speech act” left behind. Just as words convey hidden intentions, these traces serve as residual expressions of past interactions. When Harold views these otherwise invisible elements, it’s as if he’s reading silent statements from the world itself, each detail contributing to a deeper understanding of what has transpired.

In this way, Harold’s Enhanced Perception transforms sensory information into a conversation with his surroundings, where every trace, scent, and hidden detail is a part of a larger dialogue that only he can perceive. His mastery of Speech Act Theory enables him to interpret these sensory “statements” and unravel the story beneath the surface, making him an expert at uncovering truths in silence.

Myles has always had a keen eye and a sharp nose, but now? Now, he can track a scent through a rainstorm, pick up the faint trace of gunpowder from a crime scene days old. The city’s a tapestry of smells, each one telling a story—who was here, what they touched, what they left behind. Blood, sweat, lies, and fear all have a distinct aroma, and Myles can’t ignore them even if he tries.

And then there’s his sight. If he locks in, he can read a license plate from a rooftop across town or catch the subtle twitch in a suspect’s expression from a mile away. The trick is holding focus—like a wolf on the hunt, narrowing in on the prey, filtering out the noise of the world.

But heightened senses come at a cost. When he tunes in too deep, the rest of the world fades. If he’s tracking a scent, he might not hear the footsteps creeping up behind him. If he’s staring into the distance, he might not see what’s right in front of him. The gift of the hunt is powerful—but in the wrong moment, it can be a dangerous distraction.

The beastmaster closes their eyes and channels nature's bloody struggle for survival. When their eyes reopen, they catch the light and glow red like a dog's. While in this heightened state, they may triangulate the tiniest sounds or smells.

The beastmaster closes their eyes and channels nature's bloody struggle for survival. When their eyes reopen, they catch the light and glow red like a dog's. While in this heightened state, they may sense heat signatures and triangulate the tiniest sound.

Even in human form, the werewolf retains their incredible sense of smell. This helps them track their prey and learn where people and things have been.

The detective has trained their eyes to notice the smallest of details.