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Will shook his head in response to Skiaska's question. "No, your previous experience is all that you'll need. Since you've accepted the offer, I'll talk to Hunter. Now get out of here you guys, consider that to be an order."

His smile took any potential sting out of his words, and yet again he turned towards the storage room, this time making it inside and descending down into Haven. Hours later, the crowds were beginning to thin and had all but disappeared as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Yawning as he walked out of the storeroom, Will stretched out his arms and nodded to Hunter, who was still faithfully manning the bar. Without any words needing to be spoken, Hunter filled up a large mug of strong, black coffee and handed it to Jackson. The Hunter leader took it gratefully, sat down at the bar, and had soon drained the mug as Hunter watched, contemplating the younger man. As Will finished his hot beverage, Hunter whispered a query that really was more of a a statement. "It's right bad, ain't it boyo?"

Will turned tired eyes up to the man who had been friend, supporter, and mentor to him over the last few months. "Why do you say that, Hunter?"

"Because the lass... you know, Dr. Hunter, told me a wee bit ago tha' you'd tol' 'er to stock the medical room and get it ready 'ta treat a whole large mess o' people and ta' give me an' ta' oters trainin' in doctorin'. Whin yer leader be expecting a great bunch o' casualties, you tend to lean towar' the opinion tha' sumthin' bad is comin'."

The younger man just shook his head and sighed. "Never could hide anything from you, and I know that you're too worried to let this go. That Irish brough of your's always gets thicker when you're worried. Reports are coming in that indicate that the Lunites are on the move. Possibly as many as two hundred lycan cultists, fanatical and willing to die for their cause. This is beyond bad, Hunter. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose some if not most or even all of my Hunters in a war that I can't stop."

There was silence between them for a moment, before Hunter again spoke softly and soothingly. "Billy, there's a world o' difference between someone who gives orders an' a leader. Now any blighter can give an order, but only a leader knows what command means. Ye know it means that you will get people to willingly put their lives on the line, ye'll tell 'em what ta do, and in doin' what you tell them some o' them will probably die. You know that whenever one o' them dies, that yer hands are as stained by their blood as the monsters that actually killed them. And that's why far fewer o' yer Hunters will die Billy, because you accept this even if ye don' like it, and because of that you won't hesitate ta give the orders and more o' your people will make it home because of that."

Again silence reigned between them before William pushed his barstool back and turned. "Hunter, I need to go down and brief the guards on a few things. Just... let me know when the scouts get back, ok? I want to know as soon as my people are here and safe."

"Will do, lad."

"Oh, and about that bartender you want to hire. One of the new Hunters, Skiaska, has about a year worth of experience and she's living in Haven."

"Consider her as havin' the job then."

"Thanks, Hunter."

"Anytime, Billy."

Head bowed in exhaustion and deep thought, William descended back down into Haven again. After all, duty called.

Funky bouncers... Deidre couldn't help but think as they let her in. Once inside Hunter's, she had a feeling she'd like this place, even if the rumors of it having Hunters was wrong. (Although really, she had to think, could they have made it any more obvious?)

She mingled through the dance floor, grooving to the song the DJ was playing. It wasn't one she identified, but then, that didn't stop her from dancing to it. She made her way to the bar, with a well-built bartender behind it.

"Something heavy, and something that'll make it hard to keep standing," Deidre grinned, placing an order for some liquor.

Hot damn, this is good stuff, Deidre decided quickly, downing the bottle as fast as humanly possible. She could almost hear the cries of anguish inside her head as her brain realized a further atrocity had been commited against it. The fact that she didn't even need to pay for it made it taste even better (of course, that was an illusion, but she paid that fact little heed).

Then, the question. Deidre paused, allowing the last little bit of vodka to run down the bottle into her mouth. You know, a little voice inside her said, That'd be a great way to get rid of Hunters...tell 'em "sure, we all meet down there," then wait for 'em to show up, more at ease than they would normally be.

"I suppose," she said, grinning in the way that someone who has just partaken of a large quantity of alcohol grins. She rested the bottle on the table, using that movement as a distraction while she slipped her other hand to sit next to her pocket, ready to act if things got hairy. "There are people..." she continued, putting her words slowly in an effort to convey that she was drunker than she was, "Who think that there are...things that go bump in the night."

Smooth, Dee, the little voice continued, About as smooth as sandpaper on a chicken's a**. Get ready.

((OK, still playing as Hunter.))

The old bartender threw back his head and laughed. "Ach, lass. Don't go tryin' ta fool this old Irishman as to how drunk ya really are. I've been a barman far too long fer such tricks to work on the likes o' me. The question was a test to see if your a Hunter, and congratulations, you pass. You'd have to be human to get in 'ere, since vampires, lycans, anbd demons can't get in here 'cause o' the Hunters we have on guard as bouncers, the UV lights over the doors, the silver on the doors and in the paint on the walls, the cold iron support pillars holding the walls up, and all the magical barriers we got around the place. So you're a human, and the only humans that know about that sort o' stuff is Hunters. So welcome to the club, lass."

He reached out and shook her hand firmly with a warm handshake and a gentle smile. "I be called Hunter fer a reason, lass. Used ta raise quite a bit o' Caine back in me younger days, but I'm retired now. I let the local Hunters use this place to relax and take a load off, as well as a safehouse and base of sorts. Downstairs is Haven, the headquarters. Will Jackson, finer man ye'll never meet, is down there now, he's in charge of the Hunters in New York. Let me jus' call 'im, an' he'll be up 'ere right quick and in a jiffy ta greet ye."

Picking up the phone, Hunter dialed in the extension for the phone in Jackson's office. Right before the second ring, the phone was picked up on the other end to send the slightly grumpy voice of Will Jackson to "Hunter" Wilson's ears. "I'm extremely busy right now, and if this isn't an insanely beautiful woman who wants me to drop everything right this minute and come ravish her then I'm hanging up."

"Billy, it's Hunter. Can ye come upstairs fer a bit?"

"Hunter, I'm briefing the guards about..."

"A new Hunter jus' showed up, Billy."

"......I'll be right there."

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((OK, character switch, this is now William Jackson, my character instead of the NPC "Hunter".))

Jackson yanked himself up out of the secret entrance to Haven in the storage room and entered Hunter's. He may have been tired and overworked, but he'd never pass up meeting a new Hunter whenever they showed up. It always gladdened his heart and gave him hope for the future when their numbers grew. Skirting around the dance floor, he quickly made his way over to the bar and the woman sitting there with a drained bottle of vodka in her hand. Smiling at Hunter, Will held up to fingers. "Two bottles of Jack Daniels Hunter, the tab is on me."

"Will do, Billy."

Sitting down and giving one of the proffered bottles to the new Hunter, Will smilingly held out his hand for a handshake. "Hi, I'm William Jackson, a.k.a. Night Hunter. I'm the leader of the New York Hunters Group. Welcome to the city."

At her question, Will's smile disappeared to be replaced with a sad and weary expression. Sighing, he rubbed his hand over his eyes before speaking in a tired, almost defeated voice. "Dee, there's more nightlife in this godforsaken place than there is daylife."

Dropping the hand from his eyes, he fiddled with the silver cross he wore around his neck as he stared straight ahead at the wall. "We Hunters call this city 'Demonic New York', and for good reason; this is the closest that you can get to hell while you're still alive. There are millions upon millions of people living here, with hundreds of murders, rapes, and kidnappings every day. With all of that going on, a couple dozen dead bodies that are drained of blood or partially eaten popping up every now and then doesn't really raise any alarms. The city is a labyrinth, with billions of places where people or things that don't want to be found can hide. There are hundreds if not thousands of dark and supernatural creatures living in New York, and just a handful of us to figh against them. I heard that in about a years time, the Hunters group has lost no less than two leaders. Hell, I wasn't even here for a year before the last one got killed and I got made leader. Almost every night, somebody comes in with wounds to be stitched up or bones to be set. If it weren't for this place and Haven, not to mention our superior equipment and weapon skills, we'd have been overrun long ago. However as it stands, we're holding on strong and don't intend to lose this secret little war of ours anytime soon."

His smile returned and he motioned to Hunter, who began rooting about in the cabinet behind the bar counter for Will's "special stash". "That being said, we're woefully low on manpower, please forgive the term. That's why a new Hunter showing up is cause for celebration. Whenever our numbers grow, it gives us all hope. We might be seperated from normal society because of the dark truth that we know, but we're not alone, we have each other to lean on."

As he finished speaking, Hunter finally stood up, a ceramic jug held gently in his hands. Pulling out the cork, he filled two large water glasses to the brim with a relatively clear liquid. Will could feel his nostrils burn from the overwhelminh scent of alcohol in one of it's purest states. He took up his glass and held it out to her in a toast. "This is my special stuff, pure Kentucky moonshine brewed by people way out in the rural areas. This stuff is illegal in most states because it's production isn't monitored by the FDA since it's brewed by individuals in personal stills instead of companies in big old breweries. It's potent, powerful stuff that'll strip your throat raw and make your brain cells roll over into the fetal position and whimper for a quick death. I've seen people go temporarilly blind from drinking too much too fast. I only break this stuff out on special occasions, otherwise my liver would have a hole in it the size of my fist by now. I figured you might like it."

Raising his glass, he spoke quickly and simply. "Here's to a new comrade in arms, and the swift death of our enemies. Kanpai!"

With that he knocked back the glass and let the harsh alocoholic beverage roll down his throat and get to work on killing some brain cells.

Skiaska groaned and ran her hand through her mussed, uncombed hair. "Gah. Coffee. Caffine. Wake..." Grumbling out her words, her head slid down and hit the bar counter as she sat. Lifting her head with a little bit of difficulty, Skiaska looked to the other female sitting. "'Ello there. Name's Skiaska."

"Honestly, I just enjoy dancing in the middle of a fast song. If you like pressing up against people that is." Winking, she continued. "They also have some pretty hard liqour here. That's always fun." Reaching, she grabbed a cup and did the puppy eyes. That was something that looked pretty funny. Skiaska turned to Dee. "Like he said, Daichi knows our music. So basically, it's just another club!" Smiling as she was given coffee, she gulped it down and waved. "Well, I gots to get stuff from my flat. Then possibly do some shopping... If Krii'Ouse comes up before I'm back, tell him I'm at the mall."

"Very goth," Deidre giggled, "Dark and gloomy. You sure you're not one of the things that go hump in the night?" She took a moment to realize what she had said instead of the usual phrase, then snorted and burst out laughing.

By this point, she was drunk. Her glass sat on the counter, quite empty, as were the two bottles on either side. Deidre rapped her fingers against the counter for a few seconds before falling into William, wrapping her arms around him.

"Wiiiiiiiillyyyyyyyy," she whined, ruffling his hair, "I'm booooooooooored."