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 Posted: Mon Feb 06, 2012 3:54 pm
Lance snuffled, mentally, and physically, but thought back in somewhat of a daze. "O-ok..." The cub pulled himself together enough to get to his feet, and hurriedly scarpered, making his way to a part of the city he knew was generally calm, and free of immortals. Furred, fanged, or otherwise. At least, free of the violent kind. He went to a candle store in a different part of the city. It had the added benefit of hiding his scent. And the inane, constantly flowing thoughts of the type who went to candles stores hid him from most psychics. Not that he knew that. He just liked it because it had a calming, if overbearing feel.
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Posted: Tue Feb 07, 2012 9:21 am
"Take care of yourelf, Lance."
Alexz nodded in agreement even though Rogue had already left the area. Darting up the street in a blur, she could feel several in her pursuit. Skidding to a halt, she turned to face them as they all lunged. Much to their dismay and frustration, she vanished before they could reach her, causing them to land on one another.
((Exit to Las Noches))
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Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 10:00 pm
Liberation from the stifling plane was certainly appreciated where the seraphic Norwegian woman was concerned. As if to back her statement, the statue of liberty herself happened to come into view. It evoked a smirk on the mysterious woman's countenance; what an irony this city was home of the statue of liberty. Americans boasted much about this city yet the piercing glacial eyes of the woman clearly reflected disappointment. She could already feel this city was an utter mess: she would have a lot of work ahead of her.
First things were first, however, after all she had to formalities. She wasn't simply going to come to the city and make herself at home without first introducing herself to those who had been here first. Katarina respected that this was not her territory. Then again, as the saying went in America, 'it was a free country'. She, however, had been raised better than that and was certainly going to introduce herself before waltzing around as though she owned the place. Common courtesy: something the majority of this new, defiled generation seemed to lack.
Absent-mindedly she reached out to the void, seeing if it could tell her anything of this place. For now, however, it chose to remain silent to her. She would have to investigate and navigate the city personally. Not that it was any bother to her. She'd already done her research long before coming here. Las Noches was certainly a good start when searching for vampire elders as she'd learned through the grape vine. She would pay a visit and help support the 'local business' soon enough.
Katarina, however, was not in any particular hurry, after all the night was young and they'd just arrived in New York. She chose, instead, to look behind her to her Western-dressed companion that stood a full foot taller than she. "So what do you make of this place so far, Lucien? The big apple doesn't seem to be keeping the doctor away for this city reeks of rot and decay. Is it just me or do you smell it too?"
While the tone of her voice might lead one to believe that her final question was a rhetorical one, she knew Lucien knew better than that. When she asked for his opinion she actually expected his honest answer. She trusted him to oblige her with that. Unlike some might expect of one as high in stature as she, she was welcoming of others' opinions though she reserved the right to disagree with them. All the same, if she said something someone disagreed with she expected them to reserve their own right to disagree and utilize it. A good debate was refreshing every once in a while, it kept one's wit sharpened. Wit was arguably, one of the most important weapon's in one's arsenal as far as Katarina happened to be concerned.
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Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 11:09 pm
Lucien had never quite gotten the hang of flying in an airplane over the years. Sure he'd been around a long time, but somehow he never got himself past the traditional thought that a man's feet belonged safely planted on the ground, not thousands of feet in the sky suspended on a gigantic metal death trap designed by faulty humans with an admittedly better understanding of engineering than he'd ever try to achieve out of lack of interest. As far as modes of transportation went, he never stopped appreciating how horses could get one from place to place, perhaps simply a relic of his past traditions that he never quite let go. Sometimes he liked motorcycles, which were simply mechanical horses with wheels, but his preference never shifted from that of a loyal steed.
Another thing the once cowboy never quite achieved a grasp on was the formalities expected of his kind in the same way that Katarina did. She was all for complicated politics of civil vampire kind, but he cared about as much now as he ever did about anything involving the concept of formalities and politics, which is to say he cared nothing at all. But, naturally, he bared through the usual processes for the sake of his friend beside him. So for now he would simply do whatever was needed, as typical, to get by the politics as quickly and painlessly as possible. Hopefully he would not need to draw his guns on anyone this time.
A thin trail of smoke escaped from a thin gap to the right of Lucien's lips as he stared out to the same item Katarina found herself staring at, the legendary Statue of Liberty. He knew well enough that cigarettes at the very least mildly annoyed his companion, but he also knew that he very much liked the taste and feel of tobacco, among other things, back in the recesses of his throat and lungs. Sometimes it was just as sweet as blood, if not more so. He flicked away the ashy tip of the cancer-imbued stick between his fingers, grimacing when some of the ash fell upon his duster. He wiped it away as he looked toward his friend, offering her a smirk before turning back to take another drag of the cigarette.
"What do ah make of it?" he asked in his typical Southern drawl. It was a good question. Somehow in all his years, he'd never found much time to visit the United States' biggest city. Most of his time was spent simply following along wherever Katarina went, with no real rhyme or reason of his own. Many times she could use a good gun by her side, and that was where he came along. "Frankly, mah dear friend, Ah think it smells like s**t. Why do you think Ah was so desperate fer a smoke?" He offered her a smirk, then turned away out of respect as he let out another trail of smoke. "All in all Ah reckon it's pretty disappointin' so far, but Ah guess Ah haven't really seen it up close 'n' personal yet, have Ah?" He took in another drag, releasing it just as quickly before turning to his friend. "So how long are we here, anyway?"
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Posted: Thu Feb 14, 2013 11:50 pm
The fact Lucien held as much interest in her insistence on following procedures and formalities was matched by her interest in the cancer sticks he smoked was something Katarina was well aware of. The tradition of etiquette, however, was something the vampiress happened to hold in high regard. She was not about to change her ways now as they'd been cemented in place centuries before. Funny how the older one got the harder it became to change. She was a prime example of just that: extremely stubborn and for the most part stuck in the ways she'd grown up knowing despite the gap of time that had passed since her birth.
Having spent over a hundred years with the man, it was pretty safe to say she knew almost everything there was to know about her companion who stood behind her within the time-span of a century. Of course, everyone had their secrets and she was certain there were small details of his past he'd chosen to keep to himself or had forgotten to indulge. It was safe for her to say there was plenty about herself and her past she hadn't told Lucien about simply because her history was so long that it would spend longer than she'd care to bother explaining the contents.
Likewise, after over a century of being together Lucien knew her disdain for tobacco and things that reeked of smoke alike. And even after a hundred years of having to second-handedly endure his habit, she still hadn't grown used to it. Her nose still cringed in abhorrence at the putrid stench just as it did when exposed to gasoline. Such modern smells simply weren't appealing to her at all. It was no wonder such ghastly smelling creations were mighty killers of man. How daft did one have to be to partake in a habit such as smoking when all it did was slowly kill you from the inside?
At the very least over the years, Lucien had learned to respect her distaste for his habit and turned away from her whenever he went to exhale his smoke. The gesture was one of the many ways the two showed various forms of respect for the other. She, in turn, assured she was standing in the updraft as opposed to the downdraft so as to avoid the stench blowing directly into her face or clothing. There were few things worse than the smell of clothes lined with cigarette smoke.
"I know not why you inquire the length of time we intend to linger here. It's not as though we are dictated by the laws of time any longer." A smirk followed her statement, it was her form of playfully chiding a statement she found to be pointless. Which, in all reality it was: they were vampires, immortals, time really was nothing but a number to them now. She couldn't remember the last time she'd celebrated her birthday let alone what day or month it was any longer. Suffice to say she had 'bigger fish to fry'. "I suppose you are right: we have yet to make acquaintances with those that populate this city. Hopefully they prove to be less dim and depressing than the atmosphere. Shall we head to Las Noches then?"
This time her final statement was a rhetorical question. They had no reason to linger in the particular place they were at current, it was best to start making their way toward Las Noches and immersing themselves in the culture of this place.
|[| -- Exit to Las Noches -- |]|
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Posted: Fri Feb 15, 2013 1:10 pm
Lucien always chalked up Katarina's insistence on formal etiquette to being the products of two completely different eras. The American west taught one that respect was earned, not freely given, and even when it was earned it was still with a readied pistol at your side. People were the same in all times, monster or mortal; they were untrustworthy, and worthy only of Lucien's untrusting gaze. Even a handshake was still a lot more trust than he liked to offer anyone, for he'd learned long ago that even the tightest jacket sleeve could hide a Derringer well. Moreover, the former cowboy always felt too much like a lone wolf to enjoy the formalities of meeting with people he did not feel he needed to. The only person besides himself he ever truly relied upon besides himself was Katarina, and that was more a training period than anything. Nowadays he only travelled with her because he enjoyed her company, but he could leave her any time he wanted, but it was only natural that he stick by the one person that actually knew and understood him.
He allowed his lungs to absorb another cloud of the acrid cloud of tobacco and a million other harmful chemicals, expelling it between his teeth as he stared beyond to a certain large green woman holding a torch. Even after all his time with Katarina, and spent in the affairs of vampires, he still felt quite detached from it all as he ever did. He was a vampire, and a damn good one, but he had never really grown out of the "lone gunman" phase of his previous life. He accepted what he was, and he never regretted his becoming a monster, but he never truly considered himself a part of the vampire community the same way his friend beside him did. He was simply another drifter in his eyes, just one with fangs and a predisposition to shoot first and ask questions later. This was one of the reasons he travelled with Katarina; He had the feeling that were he to travel alone, he would one day shoot the wrong person who said the wrong thing, and a whole heap of hell would come after him - not that he could not hide well enough were that to happen, or defend himself were it to come to such things. But bullets only solved most problems, not all.
With Katarina, he simply allowed her to do whatever talking was necessary. He'd do the shooting if it ever came to it. Especially lycans - something about those damn dogs made them a great deal fun to shoot. After another drag of smoke, and releasing it from his lungs soon afterward, he turn again toward his companion, offering her an amused smirk. "That may be so," he said, words draped in his typical Southern drawl, "But Ah reckon any time spent in New York is too much time, even if we ain't dictated by time like you say." Sometimes he felt like a vampire had far too much time. Other times it felt like there was nowhere near enough time. Either way it did matter much to him. In reality, even were he to complain, there were not many places he truly found appealing. He preferred the more barren parts of the world that offered solitude, but not by much. Places like New York reeked, much like his friend said. After another drag he nodded toward her. "Ah don't see why the hell not," he said, following the woman.
|[| -- Exit to Las Noches -- |]|
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2013 12:26 pm
Meredith had taken to walking the streets of downtown. It was still heavily populated at night but there were still various alley ways that vampires and demons alike could corner their prey into. She still had a restless feeling, the need to prove she wasn't as incompetent as she had been in the park. Getting herself ambushed like that again was an absolute no no. The hunter leader was still kicking herself for allowing that to happen. Her of all people getting kidnapped and Hunter had known something was up. He'd been tracking her signal. ******** now she was merely patrolling, however, she was more or less waiting for a phone call from some British bloke who apparently wanted to be a hunter. Maybe she was just biased but most the modern day Brits she'd met seemed like prude sissies that were more likely kill someone with their excessive whining than actually get their hands dirty. Needless to say she didn't have the highest of hopes where the supposed new potential recruit was concerned. Then again, Hunter had mentioned he'd been a part of a British hunting agency so maybe there was hope. Maybe they did more than sit down for tea and crumpets.
At the moment the city seemed fairly quiet, nothing particularly noteworthy seemed to be happening. Considering she wanted to either a) drink or b) kill something to make herself feel better about the incident in the park, it dampened her spirits a bit. However, she continued her patrol, seeking anything that seemed even slightly out of the ordinary. This was New York: she was sure it wouldn't take long before she came across one thing or another.
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2013 5:10 pm
It had been a few days since Judas ha arrived in New York, and tonight was the night he felt it was time to get down to business. The last few days he'd spent in sort of a reconnaissance mission, not of the underworld but simply of the city. Much of it was spent wandering aimlessly, mostly doing official things such as getting his paperwork done for his stay in America. But tonight he'd finally decided to let himself become known by the local hunters. He'd left London primarily because it lost his interest, and he wanted to see just how the Americans did things.
And it just so happened that whoever ran the hunting business here just wasn't around when he'd wanted to. It took a bit of questioning of some guy who called himself Hunter, but he was given a phone number to contact these hunters' leader and get things straightened out, as it were. Just as he made his way out and sat on his motorcycle seat, he removed his cell phone from his trench coat pocket. He quickly got past the L-shaped security lock of his phone's lock screen and dialed the number. Upon the woman's picking up, he quickly spoke up. "Oi, love. Name's Throne," he introduced himself, his deep accented voice in an informal, friendly tone. "I was told to give you a call on your mobile if I wanted to get in the huntin' game here in New York. There a pub around here we can talk business in? I could really go for a pint right about now."
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Sing This Corrosion To Me
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2013 5:10 pm
Kensington and his team moved stealthily through the back alleys and streets, taking every care to ensure no-one saw them.
They made their way onto the roof of a tall office block where there was a mobile phone mast. One of the team climbed halfway up the mast and attached a small electronic device that would tap into the mobile phone network round the city. With a few commands Kensington could tap into any phone in the city. He began to direct the tech expert to scan the network for certain key words and phrases. It would enable them to track and record the comings and goings of anyone they wished. All they needed to do was wait until their desired targets were picked up by the program.
'We'll place several more throughout the city. That should prevent anyone from preventing us from getting what we need.' the Tech expert said to Kensington.
'Excellent.' Kensington replied, 'We'll set up an observation post here for now so everyone make yourselves comfy, we have a full night's work ahead of us.'
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2013 11:29 pm
Meredith's cell was set to vibrate as opposed to ring due to the fact she was patrolling until she got the phone call she was expecting from that British hunter that Hunter had called her about. However, since the night was so low key she actually hadn't encountered anything out of the ordinary: which in itself was very out of the ordinary and had her a little unsettled. As a result, when the phone began vibrating it startled her and she jumped ever so slightly at the unexpected, closest thing to a disturbance of the peace and quiet of the city. She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, that there was something out there in the night waiting to be found ...
Upon answering the phone, Meredith ended up remaining silent throughout the evidently British man's explanation and proposition. The huntress' skepticism immediately took over, her teeth lightly grating together at being called 'love' though she knew it was a British thing. And Throne? What sort of name was that? Obviously not a real one. Did he have something to hide? Why wasn't he giving her his real name? All these questions were running through her head while she listened to him go on. His mention of hunting as a game, unlike the rest of what he said up until this point, did not escape a comment from her end.
"While it's always nice," Meredith spoke monotonously into the phone, "to acquire new additions to our ranks and bolster them: I really don't have time for ignorant macho men who think of hunting as a game. People's lives are on the line every day, including hunters and I absolutely refuse to recruit someone who doesn't realize the seriousness of the job." Perhaps if she'd been in a better mood she would not have been as cold with him, however, she really didn't have time for people who thought hunting vampires was a game. "As for a pub, yes, there is. Meet me at Jack's: it's just down the street."
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Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2013 12:50 am
Three shadows maneuvered over rooftops, taking note of every living thing in the city that came within 250 yards of the trio of Void Assassins. Nothing worth noting came upon them, however. The three stopped on a rather tall hotel building, and set up a post.
The Assassin with the face of a rat pulled out a set of night vision goggles, after seeing movement on a rooftop about 200 yards from their position. The rooftop had a cell phone tower on it, and there were figures placing something on it. The Assassin with the mask with the face of a rat made a hand signal to the two others, indicating that he found something.
Immediately the two others pulled out their night vision goggles and watched the spectacle as well. After a moment, the Void assassin with the face of a serpent held his finger to his ear to activate the two way communication earpiece he had in his ear, and contacted their master, Veroen.
"Sir, we have contact with members of the Nightwatch. They have placed some sort of tracking device onto a cell phone tower." He spoke as quietly as he could, so as not to give away their position. Stealth was a specialty of the three Void assassins, which made this an easy task.
After a moment, a slip of paper appeared in front of the one with a Serpent mask with a flash of Void energy, and he caught it out of midair. He read the contents, which read, "Capture the leader of the group. Use whatever means necessary, and neutralize the others. After you are done, collect the device for further investigation." . He crumpled up the piece of paper, and drew his katana from his back with a silent motion. The one with a mask of an ox did the same, guessing what the message meant, while the one with the mask with the face of a rat drew a syringe loaded with liquid UV, and made sure it was ready before putting it into a pocket on his vest and drawing a handgun loaded with UV ammunition.
The serpent masked assassin made a hand signal, and all three of them disappeared with a flash of Void energy, reappearing on three different sides of the building Kensington was on, on the ledges of windows on each side. After approximately 2 seconds, the three of them leapt up from the ledges they were perched on, leaping over the top of the building, and landing on the roof, before immediately moving to Kensington and two other members of his team.
The Serpent faced assassin flew at one of the members of the team with amazing agility and vertically slung down his katana at the member he was aiming at.
The Ox faced assassin did the same, except at a different member of the team closest to his side of the building.
The Rat faced assassin aimed his gun at Kensington as he descended from the air moments later, using the two other assassins attacks as distractions as he squeezed off a couple shots of UV ammunition aimed at Kensingtons thighs, while simultaneously unsheathing his silver dagger from his side.
It was a beautiful sight, an effective technique designed to confuse large groups of enemies while targeting the leader.
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Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2013 2:19 am
{EDITED}
Kensington sensed something wasn't right when the attack suddenly began, he barely dodged the incoming UV rounds.
'These aren't normal men, they're not lycan either.' He shouted to his team as he drew his sword.
'Hold them off!' He yelled as he clashed sword with one of the Assassins and fired his pistol at another.
Not wanting their plans to be discovered Kensington reached out with his mind and fried the circuits of the tracking device. It would be useless to anyone who tried to find out what they were doing.
Kensington was alarmed at how quickly his team had been discovered. Clearly he had underestimated his opponents. It would not happen again.
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Sing This Corrosion To Me
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Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2013 3:02 am
Oh, Throne was certainly going to thoroughly enjoy his time working here, if this woman on the other end of the line was any hint of what was to come. He always did so heavily enjoy toying with other hunters who took themselves far too seriously and chose to perpetually have a thirty foot pole up their posterior. They were an absolute joy to work with, as far as he was concerned, as they provided hours' worth of entertainment when he incited their rage. "Love, I take the job plenty serious. But if ya don't see the beasties as game, what's the point in callin' yerself a hunter?" he asked with a smirk, his thick Northern accent lining his words; he may have been from London, but his father was still from Manchester, and that was where he took the most influence from. "Way I see it, the only way ta keep yerself sane in any job is to find enjoyment in it."
At the very least, she was willing to meet with him and listen, informing him of a pub he could meet her at to discuss business. "Very well. I'll be meetin' ya there in ten minutes then, give 'r take," he said as he started his motorcycle and pulled his bandana up to cover the lower half of his face, then placed his helmet on. But naturally, he would not hang up the phone without at least saying something that may or may not ruffle the woman's feathers a bit more. "Hope ya look as lovely as ya sound, love," was all he said before hanging up the phone and sliding it into his pocket.
Without another moment's hesitation he rode off toward the pub he'd been told about.
As he stepped into the pub he quickly made his way toward the bar, sitting on a table farthest from the entrance so he had some room to survey the scene. He would wait for the Hunters' leader to arrive before ordering, however. He did not want to get completely knackered until after discussing the important things, even if his immune system was strong enough to handle most alcoholic drinks regardless.
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Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2013 12:56 pm
The way the British man spoke in such a care-free manner wasn't serving to reassure her that he would prove responsible in the field. While he could have all the experience and qualifications for being good at killing that did not mean he was hunter material. Hunters were a group who worked together as a unit. There was no room in the organization, as far as Meredith was concerned, for lone wolves out to prove how macho they were. "You have," Meredith concluded in her maintained monotone, "a very strange perspective on all of this. As for remaining sane in this job? No one who takes on this occupation let alone lasts in it can be considered to be sane, Mr. Throne. We simply do our best to cope and remember what we do is for the greater good."
Upon his confirmation of their meeting place, she decided to start casually walking there. Had she really been in a hurry she could have taken to the rooftops and quickly made her way over in that regard, however, she wasn't feeling the urgency where this meeting was involved. She would hear him out as she had already agreed to but that didn't mean she was going in with high hopes or hopes of any sort for that matter. The amount of duds deemed unacceptable to perform properly as hunters far outweighed those who were capable. Not just anyone was allowed to join, after all.
As he ran one last comment past her she rolled her eyes upon registering it. Was this guy for real? Did he really think talking to his potentially new leader like that was going to earn him brownie points? Did the guy know anything about being formal or how job interviews worked? A very ironic question coming from the likes of her but regardless of the fact it still stood. She was the leader and what she said went. "Word to the wise," was her apathetic warning, "my bite is far worse than my bark."
Meredith, despite walking, was closer to the bar in relation to the Brit and as a result beat him there. She, however, chose to take to the rooftop, subtlety peering over the edge as she awaited the Brit's arrival. Seeing as Hunter had been kind enough to send her an uploaded image of the British hunter in question, she was able to identify him easily and efficiently. He pulled up on a motorbike, wearing a bandana and helmet to protect his face. He then made his way inside the bar, and the door closed behind him. As soon as the door closed was when she agilely lept from the rooftop to the alleyway and walked around in order to enter the establishment herself.
Sure enough she found him waiting at the bar, appearing to either be contemplating something or surveying the area: perhaps for her. She approached him from behind, expression as cold as her exchange with him on the phone had been. Her arms were crossed, her lips pressed together in an utterly neutral expression. The only part of her that really seemed to possess any animation whatsoever were her vibrant hazel eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dimness of the bar. "I take it you're Throne?"
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Sing This Corrosion To Me
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Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2013 7:36 pm
Judas's eyes met a particular woman's as she made her presence known to him.. He quickly turned toward the woman, brushing a raven lock of hair that fell over his forehead and offering her a smirk. "An' judgin' by the sweet octaves you insist on speaking in, you must be the bird I talked to on the phone earlier," he said in his typically nonchalant way; whether his compliment was sarcastic or not was anyone's guess. His eyes slid slowly down the woman's form, slowing down a bit more on her chest, then went back up to meet her gaze with his smirk still intact. "An' I've gotta say, love, I am in no way at all disappointed. Ya match your voice perfectly." Throne was by nature rather crude and open about just what he had to say, even to his superiors in the so-called chain of command. It often bred issues with other hunters, but he did not care enough to change for them, and any complaints were usually met with a rising middle finger or a punch to the face. It was always amusing to him when others got their feathers rustled by his words.
He patted his hand on the barstool next to him, waiting for the woman to sit. "You might think me dumber than a dingbat from first impressions, an' you just might be right, but hear me out for a bit, love," he said, motioning to the bartender with his hand. "Gimme somethin' soft, mate. Just a glass of Jager for now, straight." he said, pulling out a twenty dollar bill and leaving it on the bar for the man behind pouring the drinks. "An' give the lovely lady beside me anythin' she wants, so she doesn't feel like stranglin' a bloke too much." He waited for the bartender to pour the drinks and leave them to their business before opening his mouth again, turning toward the Hunters' leader. "Ya know why I chose a pub for this, love? Even with it bein' public an' all? Any beastie shenanigans an' supernatural talk would just be chalked up to the imaginations of drunks; unreliable testimonies an' all that." He took a long sip of his drink before setting the glass down.
"Now, let's talk business, shan't we, love?" he said simply with a smirk. "I s'ppose I should start with my name, then? It's Judas, as in the traitorous apostle, Schenberg. But people call me Throne." He stopped to take another sip of his drink. "So is this gonna be a typical job interview, or do I just tell ya my life story an' pray it convinces ya to let me into your little pop group?"
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