Rex
Rex walks down the street, the fingers of one massive hand massaging his temples. A headache that had nothing to do with fairy magic is slowly working its way through his head. With his other hand, he carries a wheelchair, recently acquired from a local walk-in clinic. "Where is everyone? We were so close to getting out of town scot free, and now we're scattered all over the place. Is it so hard to just stick to a plan?!"
He smacks a steel mailbox in frustration, knocking it over and sending it tumbling down the sidewalk. The noise sets him on edge, causing something in his head to shake itself out of its slumber. Rex takes several deep, calming breaths, forcing his anger to subside, willing the beast within to go back to sleep. Seeing nothing around, the pressure fades, and he is calm once more.
"I'm going to drive myself crazy like this. What is wrong with me? I've been in control for so long, why is It acting up now?"
"Sir, I have located the suspect, and he is huge! Please advise, over."
Rex turns to look behind him, seeing a police officer standing by a parked motorcycle, talking into a radio. A garbled response comes from the radio, but Rex can't make it out. The officer slowly approaches, one hand on his weapon.
"Sir, I have reports that that wheelchair is stolen, along with several bottles of medication, and you match the description of the perpetrator exactly. Put the chair down, and put your hands out where I can see them."
"And now apparently this is happening..." Rex sighs, doing as he's told. The officer puts a pair of handcuffs on him, which barely fit, and cut into his wrists. The officer speaks into his radio, taking hid hand off his weapon.
"I have the suspect in custody, please send a car to my location. Or maybe a truck?"
"No." Rex casually moves his arms up and apart, breaking the chain connecting the cuffs. "I have places to be." He brings his fist down on the officer's head, knocking the man out. He grabs the key to the cuffs, slipping it into his jacket pocket. After a moment's thought, he takes the gun, removes the magazine, and breaks the gun in half.
"There are people I care about who need me. I can't afford to go to jail." He grabs the wheelchair again, heading back to the apartment at a brisk pace.