Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was cold and it was wet and ******** if he wanted the rain to end. The island was tropical yes, but that didn’t mean the storms were nice or pleasant. No, they were often ******** cold, windy, and would soak a man to the bone in minutes. And after he’d been working on clearing rubble from one of the broken down lots, he was not happy to have to stop because of a tropical storm. Much less one that didn’t seem like it was going to end soon.

The difficult part about working in the abandoned town was that a lot of buildings were broken, run down and so outright shitty, that it was almost not worth it. Not worth all the effort to try and fix it since hey, who was going to ******** use it? Oh right probably no one.
That’s a bit pessimistic of you.
Dis quipped. The former vampire had been trying to work better with Marcus after the whole JOY stint, and yet the hunter felt that the weapon was simply patronizing him half the time. It didn’t help Dis’s case that he did patronize his hunter. “You’re not helping.” The door to the building he found with a roof was locked and he cursed. Well ********, a window was half broken and- hell he’d probably have to fix it later. Kicking at the door, it swung open with the force, apparently not locked just stuck.

One less thing to work on.
“True.”
You’re wet.
“Wonderful observation Dis. Did you know my eyes were blue as well?”
Yes, a lovely shade, and your a** is so very tight with that stick shoved up it.

Marcus visibly scowled. He’d never enjoyed comments or compliments about his a** from the weapon, and that one only soured his mood more. The room lacked any blankets or things generally not covered in a thick layer of dust. Old papers lay on a desk, a chair with a broken arm was shoved into a corner, a table, leaning precariously to one side. How very livable and fixable. Tch. Marcus looked at the door at the other end of the room. The roof as far as he’d seen had been completely intact, so hopefully the inner room would be just as dry.

What Marcus hadn’t expected was to find another deck, file cabinets, boxes, and papers and string hanging lifeless over his head, spiders using them to mount their cobwebs. At first he didn’t know what to make of it. And old office, perhaps decorated? Reaching up to take of the safety pin from the paper and the twine, Marcus paused as he felt the surface under his fingers. Pulling it down, (ignoring the layer of dust not falling in the air), he inspected the photo. It was old and some of the color had faded, most likely from age. But overall it hadn’t been disturbed, and it was still in fairly good condition.

It was a man, maybe in his early twenties, a dagger in one hand and a hotdog in the other. What made the man stand out was not the way he looked embarrassed at eating the hotdog mid shot, or that the dagger had a glow to it, it was the hunter coat. The man had an obvious scar on his arm, and As far as senior hunters went, Marcus hadn’t seen anyone with daggers for a weapon or a scar on their arm. Hell not many senior hunters were around. Flipping the photo over was a simple date.
July 6th 1998
Over ten years ago. The fact the photo was in such good condition here of all places… Setting the picture down he went to the desk, waving his hand to try and clear some of the thick dust that had coated onto the surface. While it didn’t get rid of much, it certainly did make it easier to pick out forms and blurred faces in what was indeed, more photos scattered. His hair dripped, and Marcus realized that he’d gotten a few photos wet, cursing under his breath as he picked them up and tried to wipe them off.

Each shot was different. Face after face. Some shots were blurry obviously taken while moving. Others were sharp and clear, defined shadows and angles of a person’s face, of an expression. But each was somehow more real than the last. More human. Each one the fact of a hunter. Someone from before, someone perhaps still there, out on a mission while they, they trainees worked to join them. Candid shots, peeks into the lives of those hunters from the past. Outside, the rain began to let up, and Marcus debated about his find. He’d have to leave it for now, perhaps come back later. Until then, he’d keep it to himself.