The Hunted (O/A)

[xX-CUPPICAKE-Xx]

❀ＩＬＬＩＡＮＮＡ❀

❀ ＬＯＣＡＴＩＯＮ: The Flower Shop
❀ ＭＯＯＤ: Anxious / Grateful
❀ＳＴＡＴＵＳ: Healthy

Illianna nodded when he'd mentioned her having a run in. She didn't want that to happen again, so anytime she would run into someone like them, she would get nervous and kind of just run off. That or she would shrink. Whatever seemed to be the easiest. Listening to him explain about the permits, she felt her muscles relax slightly. So, he was like them, but he wanted to protect her? The idea was still a bit confusing, but he sounded very genuine. Plus, she might as well do what he was offering. At this point, there really wasn't anywhere to run, and she didn't seem to have much of a choice. She frowned slightly when he mentioned not being able to give her a permit. Of course. Everything had to be such a challenge. With a small sigh of disappointment, she nodded before putting on a slight smile. "I suppose if there is someone I must go to, I would appreciate you leading me to them."

While he spoke to her about the permit, Illianna listened going back into her store and putting a few things away. She didn't want to leave the store open while she wasn't around. As much as she wished she could trusts the people of the city, she knew she couldn't and wouldn't. Whispering a few things to the flowers, she flicked off the light and turned around to him still listening. "I see. This all sounds so tedious. I had no idea there was so much we had to go through," she said a bit sadly. They were making it seem like every creature that came into the city that wasn't human was going to kill or try to kill someone. But, some of them honestly just wanted to start a new life, or they were just interested in seeing what living in the city was like. And why would hunters just automatically hate her for doing nothing wrong? None of it really made sense to her, so she stopped trying to piece it together.

Turning back to her shop, she looked up at the door and grabbed a long string hanging from it and gripped it pulling down as hard as she could the door falling down slowly. Locking it at the bottom, she stood back up and looked at his attire that he'd mentioned. Smiling warmly, she nodded. "Okay. You can change, and then we'll go. I'm not much in a rush anymore. I guess I'll just have to be patient," she said laughing a bit. She could be patient, but it only lasted so long. Seeing him extend her hand, she smiled and took it shaking it gently. "Illianna. It's very nice to meet you Gale, and thank you for caring so much for my safety." She looked down a bit as they walked. Mana. She heard about it, but she'd never really learned much about it. Looking up to Gale, she fixed her miss-matched eyes on him. "Gale. You had mentioned mana. What exactly does this mana do for specific humans?"



Tsukyoma

[thatnaminegirl]

» Name: Evelyn Murray » Location: Getter's Convenience Store » Mood: Suppressed Optimism » Status: Full Health

_____Evelyn Murray’s… let’s say cozy… apartment looked like it had been ransacked. Clothes lay everywhere, blankets and pillows piled on her couch-bed, coffee table served as dining/desk area, area which should have been for dining was occupied by an artists’ easel with painting supplies and many small water-color seascapes littered around it, and her kitchenette boasted a sizable supply of shrimp-flavored instant ramen and water bottles chilling on the counter instead of cookware. It seemed like it belonged to a normal—if not slobish—individual… until seeing the bathroom. Small, cramped space, toilet, sink, claw-foot tub with a seal in it. Yeah. There it was. The thing that made her not normal.

_____Meet Evelyn Murray: selkie. Well, freelance photographer/journalist by day, selkie by night. If she could take the subway and the bus down to the beach from the city. And there were no people around. And she could be back in the city before morning. Needless to say, it’d been quite some time since she’d had a good, proper, selkie swim in the ocean. So for now, the iron-tasting, cold only water in the claw foot tub in her third-story apartment would have to do. She flopped and inched around awkwardly before resting her head over the edge. This was not working.

_____She would have loved to just leave all this behind and return to the sea. She loved living life as a human, sure, but she dreamed of living her life openly as a selkie. The twenty-six year old was on a mission, she would find out if there were others like her—she knew there had to be—and she would help to liberate all of them from their lives of hiding. The best way she could figure to go about this would be to get in with the people who know the news before it’s news. But not normal news… like her, the news had to be out of the realm of traffic accidents and neighborhood crime. That’s why she was freelancing for the online paper Weird News right now.

_____In her last assignment, she’d interviewed a reclusive man who claimed he’d encountered a group of vampires lurking in the city park around 2 in the morning. Bing! The notification to a new email interrupted the stillness of her small apartment. She flopped herself out of the tub and shifted out of her seal form, donning a robe as she crossed into her living room. She clicked on the email from work. Black text on the dimly lit screen read the latest feedback from her boss. “Good article, but edit -- capture the horror. You don’t need to be objective when it comes to monsters.” She exhaled sharply and scrolled further. ”Also, new lead. Local waitress quit due to reports of monsters in area. Agreed to anonymous interview before leaving. Willing to meet at Getter’s in 20.” And this was why she could put up with the discrimination: new leads. She hopped off her couch/bed and picked up some clothes off the floor.

_____Underclothes, gray long-sleeved shirt, dark gray knit scarf, hair up in a messy bun, dark blue skinny jeans, pair o’ socks, gray ankle boots, seal skin in the camera bag, lock that compartment, pack notebook in the other, grab camera, grab keys, out the door, lock the door, down the stairs, into the lobby, onto the street.

_____With extra bounce in her step, she walked the busy streets toward the familiar location. She waited at a traffic light with a horde of other people on their way to corporate offices, universities, the park. A small girl near Evelyn looked at her for a long while before turning to their father asking, “Daddy, what’s wrong with her face?” She was referring to the splotches of brown on her otherwise pale skin. “I’m sorry,” the father apologized before telling the little girl not to say things like that. “It’s okay,” Evelyn replied, though her heart sunk like an anchor in her chest, murmuring “it’s a rare skin condition…” But they were already walking across the sidewalk. She let herself be swept up in the ever-changing current of bodies before she found herself at Getter’s Convenience Store.

_____She clutched back at her camera bag, making sure the lock was still on it and her selkie skin was secure before crossing the street to meet her client. She noticed a girl with black hair wearing dark clothes sitting on the sidewalk and eating a sandwich. The way the girl looked, Evelyn wondered if she was the waitress she was supposed to meet. She wouldn’t put it past anyone to look like they had a hangover if they were trying to cope with a horrible experience. She knelt down to her level on the sidewalk and asked, “Excuse me, did you arrange to meet with Weird News for an interview?”

HerDirtyPaws

[Tsukyoma]

|Name: Gale Constantine | Location: Gale's Apartment | Mood: Explanatory | Status: Healthy |

He paused at the question.
"Follow me to my home, I'll explain on the way. It's about... 7 or 8 minutes by foot from here. Plus, you'll have the added benefit of knowing where I live, since I uh... know where you reside." He stated, heading toward his apartment.
"Mana is.... magic. The same way that sprites and pixies, vampires, ghouls... your kind, all have magic, so do we. The difference is... Your magic is domesticated. Ours is.. more like a wild animal. Many humans don't know we have it, can't shape it, focus it, because of lack of training, or... Or lack of uh.... Well, they're ignorant. They don't know it exists, and don't believe in it, but it's there. Some humans have more than others, but it's like.... Well, it's kind of like uh... Working out, you know? The more you do it, the easier it is, the more mana you can produce. And it's also like a skill, some people are just born better at it, but if you don't practice, well... Y'know."
Gale stopped talking for a minute, unsure of whether or not he should continue- if it was classified or not. For the record, it was not classified, but most hunters would frown upon it being revealed to a non-human.
"Well, I don't think it's too dangerous to tell you this; I mean, they're rather easy to spot if you've got the sight. And, let's face it, most non-humans do... Alright, to speed things up during training, we use these things called sigils. They help us focus, shape, concentrate and sometimes amplify the effects of our mana. Keyword is help. I can work without one, but it isn't pleasant. It doesn't really matter if you know or not, sigils created by the hunter association aren't usable by non-humans. Sometimes they cause what we call feedback. Not sure how it's done, but... Well, it channels the energy back into the non-human attempting to use the sigil. Saw it happen once, I was hunting this wendigo; used to be hunter and all, y'know. Well, he grabs a sigil off of one of his shelves, slaps it on his hand. Pair of gloves and all. He tries to focus his mana, looks really perplexed, then pained, and then he just.... popped. Grossest thing I've ever seen."

The hunter shook his head as they entered a building. It wasn't the most lovely apartment building he'd ever seen, but it wasn't horrendous. In fact, he'd actually had some rather nice luck finding this place, given that it was off the beaten path- though not terribly, since this city was somewhat large. Still, it didn't see as much traffic as most places.
Ascending some stairs as he pulled out his keys, Gale looked back at her and grinned.
"Don't mind the mess."
The key slid into the lock, turned, then pulled out, was slid into the deadbolt's lock, and turned again. Lastly, he placed his hand on the door which seemed to lighten a shade after his hand pulled away. Opening his door, he stepped into a small hallway with a coat rack and a keyholder. He replaced the singular house key and picked up a keyring with three keys and what appeared to be a keychain. It was a simple circle of unpolished metal, a strange hammered design on one side, the other side smooth and flat.
Leaving the five foot long hallway, he entered into a small kitchen, which was clean and oddly devoid of decoration. The next room, a small living room, was also like this- but it did have a picture of a younger Gale and a group of people who were blatantly his family. A mom and dad, a brother, two sisters... And another male, the only one who didn't have copper colored skin- rather, he was pale, like a ghost, with unruly brown hair and dark green eyes, stood next to Gale, with a warm grin on his face.
Gale pointedly did not look at this picture. He motioned to Illianna to take a seat on the couch, the tv remote on a small coffee table in front of it, a window staring out into the street they'd come from.
"I'll not be long. I'd really rather you not come into my room while I'm changing- no offense, but we don't know each other that well and, honestly, I'd prefer we went to dinner first." He said, a playful grin on his face as he disappeared into a room, closing the door.
His room was littered with alcohol bottles- whiskey, vodka, beer, rum... They were all over the floor, and the room was a mess. But he didn't seem to notice as he tossed his keys onto the bed- and a clink ensued, no doubt from another bottle of intoxicating beverage.
Gale took his work clothes off, his chest and back crisscrossed with scars of past encounters. There was a singular horizontal scar on his chest which was surprisingly flat, about three inches wide, and lined up perfectly with another on his back. All the others were jagged things for horribly messy wounds.
He was about to put on a t-shirt before remembering why he was accompanying Illianna to the guild HQ, and instead decided on white dress shirt- he rolled up the sleeves though, before tossing on some jeans, grabbing the keys and a case, and then walking out. It had taken him a sum total of two minutes. He laid the case on the table by the couch, inserted one of the keys on the ring into a lock, then pressed his finger to another. The case sprang open, revealing a holstered pistol and a sheathed combat knife on a belt- the knife sat lengthwise along the belt. He quickly put these on, grabbing an armband with a round disk on it, and wrapped it around his forearm with practiced ease, and then slid a necklace over his head.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Illianna. And uh... Sorry about the weapons. I'd really rather not, you seem like a nice lady, but... Well, the guild would give me hell if I escorted you unarmed to the HQ building here. It's just principle. Had a hunter escort a vampire to a HA building unarmed once. Got to the building and as soon as they were in, the vampire killed a receptionist and two guards before attempting to rally the other non-humans. Didn't work, but... still. Can never be too careful."

xX-CUPPICAKE-Xx

[xX-CUPPICAKE-Xx]

❀ＩＬＬＩＡＮＮＡ❀

❀ ＬＯＣＡＴＩＯＮ: Gale's Apartment
❀ ＭＯＯＤ: Hopeful
❀ＳＴＡＴＵＳ: Healthy

Illianna listened glancing up at him as he spoke before looking back ahead of her. She tended to be a bit of a clutz, so it was better if she just listened rather than actually looking at him the whole time. Not that she had wanted to to rude. That was the last thing she'd planned to do. As he went on to tell her about mana and something call sigils, she became intrigued. "Very interesting. I had no idea that some humans had magic of their own." Though she'd been attacked in the past, she hadn't thought that the man that had tried to attack her had been using magic or rather mana. It was a rather hard thing for her to understand, but Gale was doing a fairly decent job of describing it to her. When he went on to tell her a story of someone who practically exploded not using his sigils, her eyes grew with worry. "P-popped. H-how terrible!" She couldn't imagine from exploding from a magical outburst. How scary. But, he seemed to find it more interesting than terrifying. How odd.

As they reached his apartment, she glanced around before entering seeing no one around or following them. It seemed slightly sketchy, but it was much better looking than most of the apartments in the city. When he mentioned a mess, she shook her head. "Uh no, it's completely fine. I'm sure it's not that bad." Stepping in behind him, she immediately started examining his home mostly out of curiosity. She'd never had the chance to see any of the apartments of the city, she'd just made her home above the flower shop. It was just easier that way. Walking into the kitchen, she frowned slightly. It was so plain and dreary. It didn't seem like he used it often. Maybe she could come over and cook for him sometime. Then again, they had just met. Illianna just had that sort of motherly mentality engraved in her brain. It was something she'd always grown up on. Stopping in the living room, she watched him leave to change in his room.

"Okay. I'll just wait here," she smiled slightly at his joke. Looking around, she sat down in a chair and pull the hat from her head her elven looking ears protruding from the side of her head now and twitching slightly hearing the clashing of glass in the room that Gale had entered. Maybe he would let her transform here. Just for a bit. They were in a rush though. Hmm...decisions decisions. Deciding she had a bit of time, she closed her eyes and let her human cover dissipate. Her skin became pale to almost white and shimmer as if someone had split glitter all over her body. Her eyes gave off a faint glow and a pair of wings sprouted from her back. However, one of them was bent and broken from the incident with the hunter years ago. Seeing him come back out, she hoped her wouldn't mind her this way. Maybe she could shrink and hide in one of his pockets. Seeing him take out the gun, she nodded nervously. She understood, but she would never do such a thing. Hopefully, he knew that too.

"Uh...I'm sorry for transforming, but it's been so long. Maybe, I could hide in a coat pocket? Please. I promise I won't be too loud." She looked up at him with longing eyes.



Tsukyoma

[Overly Manly Man]

RECCE FIELDS
_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅
The Dealer of Death

Recce took his time clearing his plate. The waffles were always heavenly at the Kappy. Every bite made Recce think of what his life used to be like before all the chaos of hunting, before he left. He finished his meal and looked outside. The sun was still low, but it looked like it was nearing 8 AM. "Hey Kat, I'm ready to pay, keep the change as a tip." Before letting Kat check his payment within the black booklet, he walked out. He left a hundred dollar bill in there, as always. Recce stepped outside onto the sidewalk and breathed in the not so fresh air. He hated and loved this place all at the same time. The place was peaceful in the morning because all of the madness was saved until nighttime in this city.

"I best be heading back to my place then." Recce started walking up the street, constantly checking alleyways and corners just as he'd been taught. A cool breeze brushed up against him and his hat tilted a bit. He reached up and put his hat back to its original position and noticed that he forgot to put his gloves back on at the Kappy. Reaching into his pockets, he couldn't find them, so he turned around and headed back to the diner. "What a bother... I can't believe I keep doing this. Next time I'll be halfway home before I realize my shoes are missing..." Recce walked into the diner and casually went to his table and found his missing gloves. He put them back on and waved a second goodbye to Diana and Kat.

That was a waste of time, I should just port home this once... Nah, too risky. Someone could see me... I'll just sit here for a while. Recce sat on the sidewalk and watched the rush of cars trying to make it to work on time. People never smiling, yet working for the chance to smile. This life was to be pitied. "People need to live a little..." Recce stared at the cars until it was 10 AM. He stood up and started to walk home, flicking cards up in the air and catching them with little effort.

Where: Outside the Kappy
Mood: Indifferent/full
Status: Healthy
With: No one

Quote:

Quote:

Quote:

[Tsukyoma]

|Name: Gale Constantine | Location: The Streets | Mood: Explanatory | Status: Healthy |

Gale was slightly taken aback when he stepped out of the room and saw a totally different creature standing before him; he did put two and two together rather quickly, realizing that this creature was Illianna moments before she spoke.
"Well... How about we just stick around here for a bit? After all, people would probably look at me strange if they caught me talking to my pocket... Not to mention that might qualify as smuggling you into the guild." Gale smirked before continuing, "Not that I couldn't if I wanted to, but it's better not to chance it."

xX-CUPPICAKE-Xx

[thatnaminegirl]

» Name: Evelyn Murray » Location: Getter's Convenience Store » Mood: Suppressed Optimism » Status: Full Health

_____The long silence and barely sideways glance she received from the girl on the sidewalk was discouraging enough. “Alright, guess not…” she muttered. “Never mind then.” She took a few steps backward and sighed. Any kind of response would have been nice. Then again, this was the city. People here liked their anonymity… and Evelyn couldn’t blame them. She stood there, out in front of Getter’s Convenience Store, for quite some time. She really needed to get a watch. Figuring she had time to kill, she entered the convenience store and roamed around the aisles a bit. The clerk at the counter gave her the stink eye—she presumed because of her large backpack that could probably be used to hide stolen cough medicine or something.

_____Out of nowhere, she heard a small voice. “Psst.” And again. “Psst.” Coming from the bathroom. Her eyes darted from the clerk at the counter to the unisex bathroom before she casually and lightly walked over to the door. ”Hello?” she whispered and lightly knocked on the door. A hand reached out, grabbed her by her scarf, and yanked her into the small room.

_____The smell hit her before anything else. That and the grimy surroundings of a facility that could really use some bleach. Then, her eyes met the eyes of a young lady. Dark circles around the eyes, hair under a baseball cap, bulky jacket, and bitten-down fingernails still gripping onto her scarf. Evelyn’s own expression mirrored the girls in wide-eyed shock for a moment before she stated, “You must be here for the interview then, yes? Weird News?”

_____The girl sighed heavily and released Evelyn from her grasp. “Oh thank the universe!” her voice had a scratchy quality to it even as she spoke under her breath. She seemed sickened from lack of sleep and stress. The girl cleared her throat before speaking again. “I figured that had to be you, with the camera bag and camera and… you’re not going to take a picture are you?”

_____”Well this is an anonymous interview… so no. I just always have it with me. Just in case.” She shrugged one of the straps of her backpack over her shoulder so she could retrieve her notebook. ”So why did you contact Weird News, exactly?”


-------


_____The interview had been short yet informative. The girl talked about her time at “The Kappy”, the rumors she’d heard from other waitresses, and the strange occurrences she’d seen or thought she’d seen. Most of her short stories dealt with hearing howling in the night—Werewolves—and seeing individuals who had to have been Vampires escorting drunken dates down the road during late shifts at the diner. These things were all hearsay and hype as far as Evelyn was concerned, but that’s what her job heavily relied upon, so at least she would be getting paid again this week. What really set this interview apart from the ones she’d done over the past year was the tone of one particular piece of information. The ex-Kappy-waitress mentioned one customer in particular, a regular, who really knew what was going on. She said that if Evelyn really wanted news, she should contact him. When Evelyn pressed for more information on how she could do so, the girl chuckled dryly, “You’ll know him when you see him.”

_____Evelyn bought some cough medicine and cough drops for the girl when they exited the bathroom. This pleased both her lead and the clerk of Getter’s. After the girl left, drawing a hood over her face and joining the flow of people, Evelyn asked the clerk, ”How do you get to The Kappy from here?”


-------


_____According to the directions the clerk had given her, the diner was only two more blocks away. She had scrawled the directions with street names on the back of her interview paper, folded it up, and kept it in her hand for quick reference. She’d been in such a rush to get more information that she held her pen, camera, and the paper in her hand. Only the notebook had made it back into the first compartment of her camera bag. A nagging thought in the back of her mind told her to take an extra moment, put the paper away, haste-makes-waste, etcetera. But, of course, she did not think she would regret keeping the paper out. And that’s when things went south.

_____One block away from The Kappy, a delivery-bicyclist sped through the crowd of people, knocking a businessman on a cell phone into Evelyn whose first priority—as her balance wavered around a bootleg purse salesman’s table and her grip on everything in her hands was compromised—was to protect her expensive camera at all costs. One knee hit the ground as she caught the camera, gripping it tightly in her hands. Her pen clattered to the sidewalk and rolled away, being crushed by feet on the sidewalk. And the paper…

_____The paper with all her notes from the interview and directions to The Kappy had landed and stuck on the chest of a man wearing a long black coat. Black boots. And cowboy hat. And an eyepatch. He looked like a guy who would have known a thing or two about her line of work. Could this have been the regular customer her lead had been referring to? Her mind swarmed with fears, doubts, and questions as she tried to put on her best poker face—though she was terrible at it—and stepped toward him. ”Sorry about that,” she stated, hand half up in the air to take the paper away as it flailed on his coat. A nervous chuckle. ”Really… I’m a huge mess. If my head weren’t attached to my body I’d probably end up hitting people with that too.” ’Wait… what?’ Her hand lingered there for a long cautious moment—she was very weird about touching people and being touched. ‘Please don’t read it, please don’t read it, please don’t read it…’

Overly Manly Man

First two sections are background and context. Third section is where character interaction happens.

[Overly Manly Man]

RECCE FIELDS
_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅
The Dealer of Death

Recce flicked a red card, then a blue card, then a yellow card, catching all three at the same time. He repeated this motion several times as he walked home. After about his fifth catch he saw a familiar face. It was a bicyclist that hit an elderly woman the other day on his paper route. As he stared at him a paper slapped Recce on his chest. That paperboy... Pisses me off... With an almost invisible flick of his wrist, a card popped the bicyclist's back tire and left him flying into Mrs. Walter's trashcan, a most unpleasant place to land. She always cooked fish for dinner during this time of year. The bike was left half on the street and half on the sidewalk. Many people didn't like that bicyclist, so they paid him no mind, leaving him on the sidewalk covered in trash. "That'll teach the little rat... Now what's this..?"

The paper slipped down his chest and into his hand and Recce read it. He almost didn't notice the girl who was apologizing to him. "There's no need to apologize for something so small... Is this a map to The Kappy? You must not be from around these parts if you don't know where The Kappy is. It used to be the center of attraction here..." Recce continued to scan the paper and noticed that it was about the strange occurrences at The Kappy. This girl must be a reporter... These incidents are all true... Although the Vampire's dates weren't drunk, they were all just hypnotized for the most part... Well, maybe a few of them were drunk... He stared at the paper for about fifteen seconds scanning every detail.

"This is some good stuff here... Who may I ask are you?" It's just another interviewer... I'll just turn her away like everyone else. They aren't as pushy as they used to be, so it shouldn't be too hard.

Where: On his way home
Mood: Intrigued
Status: Healthy
With: A strange girl

thatnaminegirl

Quote:

Quote:

[thatnaminegirl]

» Name: Evelyn Murray » Location: One block from The Kappy » Mood: Anticipatory » Status: Full Health

_____For a moment, she found her nervous, hazy vision looking beyond the man holding her paper to the bicyclist who’d run himself into a trash can. Wow, karma worked fast. Her lips formed into a thin line as she watched no one helping him. That was a familiar sight in this city.

_____Evelyn’s attention quickly turned back to the older man and watched as he coolly surveyed everything she had written. Running a quick mental profile on him, she figured he definitely had to have seen some strange sights. It wasn’t every day you met somebody who made his fashion choices in this setting either. Then again, he seemed much more familiar with the area than she was. She gave a nervous chuckle at his remark about how the diner used to be the center of attraction. “Yeah, you know. Wonderful sense of direction on my shoulders…” Her comments trailed off and she bit her lip as he continued to scan the paper. Her heart sunk in her chest a little bit. She hoped that he wasn’t thinking she was crazy; her mind was racing a bit anticipating whether or not he could… or would help her.

_____Her spirits lifted and she felt her heart lurch up into her throat when he actually said she had “some good stuff here”. He had to have been the contact the waitress had mentioned! To think, she could have missed him if not for that bicyclist, bless that kid. She couldn’t suppress her grin, but quickly forced a serious expression on her face when the conversation turned to her. In response to his question, she replied, “Evelyn Murray representing the aptly titled Weird News. I’ve been investigating local cases such as,” she gestured with a free hand to the paper, “the ones you see there. And honestly… this is the most significant lead I’ve had so far and would love to be getting that paper back.” She tried to play it cool instead of diving right into questions. After all, she knew where he spent some of his free time now.

Overly Manly Man

[Overly Manly Man]

RECCE FIELDS
_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅
The Dealer of Death

Recce's eyes sagged a bit as he looked up. He faked a yawn as he responded to the reporter so as to make himself look uninterested. "I don't think you'll find what you need here. People aren't that willing to talk, and quite frankly, you won't survive the experience if you meet the wrong people." She'll probably leave once she realizes what lurks around these parts. Recce relaxed his shoulders and cracked his neck. Each crack revealing how tense he always is, not to mention old. "The body count in this city alone due to unnatural phenomena is already past one hundred in just two years alone. Know what that means? On average, at least one person dies every four days. I'm surprised people even live here still, but it is a large city and those who die are unnoticed and replaceable... homeless folk... bartenders... drunk city workmen... hookers..." Recce paused shortly, but it seemed as if it were an eternity. "...reporters..."

This was what Recce said to all the reporters. None stayed for too long, especially if something big was going down and Recce couldn't risk a reporter getting in on the buzz. Heh... There's no way a reporter like this would stay. She may be young and adventurous... but she's not naive. Recce held his hand out to the reporter to give her the paper back. "I think you should be on your way. If you choose to stay, I wouldn't recommend it." The wind made the paper rustle in his hands.

That would be... Reporter number seven? I've lost count already...

Where: One block from the Kappy
Mood: Indifferent again
Status: Healthy
With: Evelyn

thatnaminegirl

Quote:

Quote:

[thatnaminegirl]

» Name: Evelyn Murray » Location: One block from The Kappy » Mood: Encouraged; Slightly Snarky; Lingering Nervousness » Status: Full Health

_____The man had only replied, “I don’t think you’ll find what you need…” and Evelyn already had her arms crossed and an eyebrow cocked. At the words: “you won’t survive the experience”, she flipped her camera bag off her shoulders and in front of her, opening the unlocked compartment and swapped out her camera for her notebook and an extra pen. By the time she held the paper and pen in her hands and had her bag hanging from her forearms by the straps, he was cracking his neck. She watched out of the corner of her eye as people passed by, minding their own. The cracking was a slightly disturbing sound. He was trying to intimidate her. Which meant he had to know things. Things she needed to know. This marked the only real lead beyond paranoid civilians that she had ever received; no way was she giving this up now. Her gaze snapped back to his as he continued.

_____Body count, unnatural phenomena, one person every four days, unnoticed, replaceable…
She twirled her pen idly in her hand throughout his speech and stared silently. Not a poker face, a business face. When he stopped at reporters, the pen twirling also stopped. Pretty good speech. Really good, actually. Had she only been in this for the money, you’d better believe she would have turned straight around, gone home, and updated her resume. But she wasn’t in it for the money, and safety was something she rarely ever felt in all truthfulness. She allowed her jaw to drop idly for a second as she watched the paper in his hands wave like a flag in the breeze. Like a white flag. A flag of surrender.

_____After he recommended leaving, she carefully retrieved the paper from his hands with the one she held her pen in. “Looks like I’ve found the right contact,” she replied, folding the paper before transferring it to the hand that held her notebook. “and I’m going to assume that all of that was off the record, as good of a story as it would make.” A smile stretched across her face for a moment before her serious expression returned. “This is more than a day job for me. I’m not going anywhere.” She clicked her pen a few times but didn’t write anything. “Are you willing to provide me with a name, or am I going to have to write you down as ‘The Cowboy’?” The smirk returned. “Because I’d really prefer not to, but that’s all I have to go off of right now.” No way she was waving a white flag anytime soon.

Overly Manly Man

[Overly Manly Man]

RECCE FIELDS
_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅
The Dealer of Death

Recce smiled as he heard the woman speak. He could tell what was coming from a mile away, she was determined to stay. This was the first time Recce met such a determined reporter. After a few days within the city, most would leave without even finding Recce or bumping into him. This woman... Is interesting... Recce's smile grew as he heard her call him the "Cowboy." His head cocked back, the sun finally gleaming on his face, Recce replied to the woman.

"You can call me Recce. I'm surprised that you're willing to stay..." Recce reached into his pocket and pulled out a card and started flicking and catching it as he spoke. "...usually reporters leave after I tell them that much, but you've got some balls kid, I'll give you that much. I guess you've figured it out, that I've got dirt on this town no 'waitress' can give you. I can tell who you interviewed before me, I guess I've been ratted out." I don't know if I should give her what she wants... Part of me wants to, but the rest of me says she'll climb too far up this mountain... Recce paused for a moment, doing nothing but flicking his card as he wondered what he should do about Evelyn.

Recce caught his card and brought his head back down, his hat shading him from the sun. "Well... I guess it can't be helped. If I don't tell you anything, you'll stalk me for the next couple weeks, right..?" Even though I can hide very well, it would be a pain to do things discretely. Recce held his card out for Evelyn to take. "Here, you'll need this. It's my... calling card. It may just look like a regular playing card, but if you throw it on the ground when you're in trouble... I can find you." The card was the King of Spades, Recce's lucky card, the actual "Cowboy."

Where: One block from the Kappy
Mood: Amused
Status: Heathy
With: Evelyn

thatnaminegirl

Quote:

Quote:

[thatnaminegirl]

» Name: Evelyn Murray » Location: One block from The Kappy » Mood: Encouraged; Intrigued » Status: Full Health

_____She scrawled down his name quickly before meeting his gaze again. In her first full-view of his smiling face, she detected a hint of softness behind the grisliness of his put-on appearance just a moment before. That, or he was just smiling in the nice light. Either way, she felt as if she could trust him. At the very least to get more information. As he spoke comparing her to other reporters, she allowed a wide smirk to appear on her face as she shrugged, in a ‘yeah, I am pretty ballsy’ manner before crossing her arms with pen and notebook still at hand. She watched him as he flicked his card in the air, silent as he paused at the mention of being ‘ratted out’.

_____It was a cool, habitual mannerism that caused Evelyn to wonder why it came so naturally to him. A quizzically attentive expression played on her face as she wondered if he frequently gambled or if there was more to it than that. Her thoughts were interrupted when his hat obscured his face again and he made an accurate observation about stalking. Yeah, she wouldn’t put it past herself to be that obnoxious. She was about to make a comment about how everyone deserves to eat breakfast in peace when he held out the card—no persuasion needed. Her eyes were glued to the King of Spades as he gave her instructions on how to use it. ‘I guess there is more to it, then…’

_____She nodded and took the card, examining it in her hand. It didn’t look out of the ordinary. “Thank you.” Just like a normal playing card. She never would have known… “Any other card in the deck would’ve been really disappointing at this point.” A slight smile returned to her face as she knelt down, placing her bag on the ground in front of her. She opened the outer section and put away the notebook and pen, withdrawing an empty fabric wallet. She put the King of Spade where a driver’s license would normally be, zippered up the camera bag, and stood back up again, pocketing the wallet. Her bag was flipped back in its rightful spot on her back. She reached back for a moment to double check that the lock was secure. Yes, all was well. More than well. “So,” she started to ask, “when and where would you recommend starting?”

Overly Manly Man

Sorry that took so long. It was a long day for me.

[Overly Manly Man]

RECCE FIELDS
_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅_̶̷̲̅
The Dealer of Death

Recce let out a soft chuckle when he heard her say any other card would have been disappointing at that point. You have no idea... He watched as she put the card in her purse, thinking about how weird this looked from a distance. A 37 year old man handing a young woman a playing card, of all things, and that woman placing it in her bag as if it were important. He might as well be dealing drugs considering his appearance. Where should we start..? Wow, she's really something... already up and pushy. "I'll leave that up to you, however... I have one condition. You mustn't stalk me. If you do, you could get hurt, you hear? I have enough on my plate without having to worry about a lost reporter being targeted by mystic creatures."

Recce smirked as he realized something interesting. The woman didn't even bother to ask what was up with the playing card. This was the first time that's ever happened where he didn't get any questions of negativity about carrying a playing card around as safety. I'll just leave it up to her as to whether she'll use it or not. Whether she questions it or not is none of my business anyway... Recce was getting tired of staying in the same spot for so long. On these streets, you never want to draw attention to yourself. As long as you blend in with the crowd and look important you'll stay out of the one in four statistic. "Hey, Evelyn, was it? I think we should start walking. Staying in one place isn't the best idea in this city."

Recce turned and pointed with his thumb up the street. "Let's go this way and I'll answer a few of your questions. If you need me to walk you home, I can do that." Though it's unnecessary because I can watch her path as she goes home, it's still nice to ask. The bicyclist who was previously flipped into the trash finally made his way on his bike again. The boy patted his clothes down and tried the bike, but noticed the flat tire. The boy sadly stepped off the bike and walked next to it up the street. Darn, I should have just jammed the wheel, now I feel guilty. I think I'll leave him a bike on his doorstep, but I'll leave a nasty note about his reckless biking, the little snot.

Where: One block from the Kappy
Mood: Indifferent
Status: Healthy
With: Evelyn

thatnaminegirl

Quote:

Quote:

[thatnaminegirl]

» Name: Evelyn Murray » Location: One block from The Kappy--walking » Mood: Businesslike » Status: Full Health

_____Evelyn gave him credit for the warning and nodded simply nodded in reply. She nodded again when he asked her name. Going from no leads to an amazing one came as a delayed shock to her. This was actually happening… she could actually end up getting some answers and helping a lot of other people like her… But she was getting carried away.

_____At the suggestion that they start moving, she nodded again, and started to follow him in the direction he had gestured. Something she lacked was a consciousness of what other people could be thinking about her. From the way she talked, carried herself, and loitered about; she’d learned throughout the years not to care. From Recce’s tone, she made a mental note that she should probably start caring again.

_____When he mentioned that he could walk her home, her mind paused. She didn’t exactly want this man she had just met who seemed slightly on the shady side to know where she lived. Sure, she felt like she could trust him as a lead, but there was something a little too intimate about knowing where someone lived. But did she want him to know that? She wanted him to trust her, and some part of herself felt like she could trust him, but wasn’t ready to gamble that.

_____Finally, after about thirty seconds of a too-long silence, she replied, “Sure, I live in this direction anyway.” That much was the truth. “Okay, question one: What is it that you do, exactly; for how many years, and why?” … “Sorry, that was kind of three in one there. Just the first question is fine.” Her hands held loosely onto her backpack straps as they maneuvered through the crowd. Biographies and personal stories always had a way of committing themselves to her memory. And she had a feeling she wouldn’t be forgetting his.

Overly Manly Man