Welcome to Gaia! ::

Even as he started to strafe to the side, her sights stayed trained on him, gun following in one fluid motion until he stopped, his shoulder bleeding. She saw him eying the bag, hoping that he wasn't stupid enough to make a move for it. For one reason or another she wasn't in the mood to kill him, in fact she was more impressed at him even if he did shoot her. It seemed that they both stood there for a moment, simply studying one another in silence before he finally responded. His move to holster his weapon was mirrored by her own actions, the gun disappearing under the length of her jacket as he walked back to his bag.

"I was turned around 2 years ago. Been a Hunter my whole life, with the NYHG for probably 3 years now. I'm Kerrigan," she offered as her explanation to his seemingly shocked comment. When she was first turned, those kinds of reactions would have really upset her, but now she was just used to it. Moving forwards as he shouldered his bag once more, the dark blood from his shoulder starting to seep through his jacket, she had to take a deep breath to steady herself. Her crimson eyes faded to their normal green once more, putting on a soft smile as he asked if she could take him to Haven.

"Gail will want to examine that wound. You're lucky we aren't that far away. Here, use this," she said in a rather kind voice, Kerrigan slipping her jacket off quickly and pulling her shirt off to reveal a camisole underneath. Even if she was going to be a little colder, she couldn't in good conscience let a new hunter bleed to death before he even made it to Haven. Holding her jacket by the collar, she moved over to him, pressing the material to his bleeding shoulder before putting her own jacket back on.

"Come on." Turning, she headed back out of the alleyway, letting him go slightly in front of her as her hand found his good elbow. She was gentle, only using her grip on him to steer him now and then where he needed to go. They were only a few blocks away, but an injured hunter was an injured hunter, and she wasn't taking any chances.

[go ahead and exit to Hunter's Bar?]

david got there just in time, his client just exited his house. he watched as he locked his door and headed straight toward his car. I guess this means I will need to change forms to keep up he just hoped it wouldnt completly destroy his clothes, he just changed forms earlier that day. he changed forms, feeling that familiar rush he always felt when changing forms. his senses hightened and he heard a whir of and engine start up. he prepared to follow his target and quickly checked around just in case somebody else intended to follow him. the car quickly drove off, david was following right behind noting all of the cars nearby. If he saw another car nearby it could mean his client was being followed. David ran keeping right behind the car, following on rooftop. accourding on the discription of the client that his employer gave him this guy liked to party, I hope that this wont get him into any trouble he thought to himself.((exit))

he steps out of the shadows he looks for a human to take control of.unfortunaly he couldnt find one. so he stalked the city streets trying to get a grip from his last attack. a hunter had snuck up behind him and took a knife to his throte quickly pulling, with out his tough skin he would never had survifed. only his puppets could help him and without them he had no protection and atleast he has a puppet. a nite of nothing is nothing. only he can save his race from the other races. sighing he sat down on a bench in the park. he reads a stray piece newspaper but without a date he couldnt find the latest spiecies.

only his race can help him.wispering "why do the demons have to be evil?"
without his friend he can do nothing.

spotting a human, he got his puppet ready and had it break the neck of the human.walking slowly over to the human he picks it up and creeps into the shadow of the closest tree, only to have a terible dinner.

Hurdy was in a taxi, fresh from the air port. It was his first time back in the states, and he was in the mood to kill, to celebrate his return. He was fed, he drank a stuartess on the plane once they landed, so he wasn't after human blood.

Next to him on the seat was his brief case holding his sniper. His two "Solar" pistols were holstered inside his jacket. He had recently stopped at Hammer weapons and stocked up. He saw a girl walking by herself, with a wierd aura. She then turned down an alley and Hurdy knew this was it. He told the taxi to stop and got out of it, paying the man.

He held his Sniper brief case in his left hand, and his "solar" pistol cocked in his right hand. It was loaded with Silver Nitrate rounds. The target was the young werewolf girl.

Kalan walked the cold streets of the city. It was late, and she was tired, but she hadn't gotten a clue all day of her brother's whereabouts, and she couldn't give up. She recalled what she had said to Asher earlier, "Go check the police records for any unusual activity. Then do the same with the Hunter's. We need every hint we can get our hands on." He had given her a surly reply but had left without an argument. She was his master after all. He wouldn't openly defy her.

The girl pulled her long black jacket tighter around herself. Letting her barrier slip a little, her heightened senses picked up the smells of the city. She sifted through the pollution and smells of food and drink. Kalan was looking for something. She sighed, not being able to pick out the scent of Aiden's soft hair. He always used the same shampoo back home. He had most likely changed it when he ran away, knowing that Kalan, if sent after him, could find it. It was depressing.

Someone bumped her shoulder, knocking the small girl off balance, and sending her to the concrete sidewalk. She fell onto her hands and knees. "Ow! Dangit!" Kalan, stood up and limped over to the wall. She had scraped her knee pretty badly. The black shorts she had worn to match the white laced old-fashion blouse did not suit her agenda. A lone hunter child walking the street for information on her missing brother should not be wearing cute doll-like clothes. But Her mother and Patrick had packed for her. And her beloved little brother and mother enjoyed seeing her in white lace and cute clothes meant for extremely spoiled noble children. She hated it. But she loved them, so would suffer through it.

Kalan had to admit though. The black and white style certainly did suite her pale skin and long blond hair. Her crystal blue eyes searched the pockets of the long coat until she found the bandages. She carefully wrapped one around her knee covering up the bleeding scratch, and continued down the street, avoiding the pushy people.

Suddenly the smell of dogs drifted through the air. Dogs, and the overwhelming smell of blood. She clapped a hand over her nose and mouth. The scent came from further down the street. Kalan winced. She hated her senses, and promptly lowered the barrier in her mind, blocking them out again and veiling herself. "What in the name of G*d is going on round here? Why are there so many creatures running loose?" Her soft Irish accent slid into the words as she picked up her pace.

Shiloh was starting to get nervous. Never had she been the prey before. Scanning the area, Shiloh saw that there were less people. Was that a good thing? Maybe she'd be able to fight this man in full wolf mode. Perhaps that would be best. Turning down another alley way, Shiloh stopped and turned around. Her dark brown eyes watched readily for the man with the brief case. It was quiet and isolated here. No one would bother a man fighting a wolf. It should be very respectable then.

Shiloh gulped. She hadn't been a wolf for more than two years or so. She didn't know the full power of her wolf. Never to late to experiment. She stood ready, touching her hip where a loaded pistol was waiting for action just in case.

"Ouch... that's a little harsh for the new girl in town." Shiloh growled pulling out her pistol and aiming at him as soon as she saw the his weapon. Clearly she didn't know the ropes around the city so Death Dealers might be some demon gang. However, she recalled it being a nickname for Vampires. Great. Shiloh studied him over and saw the fangs. Perhaps he is one of them too. Double Great.

"Listen, I don't want to fight - so why not pretend this never happened?" she asked with a shrug, but she didn't lower the weapon.