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 Posted: Sun Aug 30, 2009 12:07 am
Marcus's RoomThe room is filled with simple accommodations. Against the wall, across from where the door is, is the queen size bed with its crimson bedsheets usually in a mess. Sitting at the foot of the bed is his green military lock box that usually holds his hunting equipment. At the other end of his bed is a door that leads to a small bathroom that holds the essentials to any bathroom: sink, mirror, linen closet, toilet, and shower. At the center of the room is a dull fabric love seat facing in front of his chestnut dresser in which a television set sitting on top. Behind the couch is a large stainless steel workbench in which Marcus works on his equipment as well as manufactures his special bullets. Beneath the bench is a lock toolbox with all his tools, materials, and other items he need to alter his gear. By the workbench and near the door is a large ice box in which he keeps cool refreshments as well as stores his grenades, a habit developed from past experiences. The room and bathroom is lit by a pair of florescent light bulbs, however, next to them are a pair of UV bulbs in case of any unwanted allergic to UV guests were to appear. 
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Posted: Sun Aug 30, 2009 12:13 am
It wasn't long for the wounded and tired Hunter to be inside his new residence. Upon entering the front door, Marcus noticed all his stuff neatly set in front of his dresser, including his duffel bag of his old clothing as well as stuff he was suppose to have shipped to his other apartment.
"Wow...these guys work fast." Marcus muttered to himself as he closed the heavy reinforced door of his room, locking it as his habit forced him to. Taking off his trench coat and beginning his unequipping phase of his ending day, Marcus couldn't help but smile as he thought about tonight's events. He was shot his first night here in New York (though of course he fired first). But that thought alone made him smirk even harder. Perhaps the rumors of how rough New York was were true.
Finally down to his fatigue pants and socks, Marcus leaped onto his somewhat comfortable bed as he gazed up at the ceiling. A pair of florescent lights lit the whole room while another set with UV bulbs remained off. His smile never left his face as his eyes began to get heavy and close. Eventually, the man was asleep before he even knew it.
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Posted: Sun Aug 30, 2009 11:07 pm
Six and a half hours later, a moan escaped from the shirtless man as he moved the back of his hand over his eyes as they slowly opened. His body felt better than earlier, but his shoulder still ached from the new wound to it. It was apparent the drugs administered earlier has worn off, as his shoulder reacted painfully as he attempted to push himself up from his bed. Glancing at the room and noticing his equipment from earlier thrown onto his small love seat, Marcus let out a loud sigh as he glanced to the doorway that lead to his bathroom.
A few moments of freshening himself up, Marcus exit the bathroom and put together an outfit consisting his jeans, dark military boots, and a white button-up shirt. Glancing around the room, Marcus spotted his boxes of clothes and smirked. After a few more minutes of rummaging, the dark haired man was wearing a dark blue blazer over his white clothes. Going to where he rested his Jericho pistol, he holstered it to his belt and and exit the room, making sure to lock it before getting lost into the hallway.
[Exit]
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Posted: Sat Sep 05, 2009 3:13 pm
Entering the small room with out really closing his bedroom door, Marcus let out a sigh as he took off the blue blazer and dumped it on the bed. Reaching into his refrigerator, he took out a plastic bottle of water that stood next to several grenades. The aftertaste of the mystery drink still loomed its nasty feel in the Hunter's mouth as he took several swigs of water. He sighed as he glanced over at the TV set and took a spot in his love seat. With one hand holding his bottle of water and the other on his remote, Marcus turned on the news to see what developing story could of happened in this lovely city. Perhaps something normal. Maybe someone kid is stuck in a well and the firemen are working on strategies to get him out.
Marcus grunted at the thought. Yeah. Right.
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Posted: Sat Sep 05, 2009 6:24 pm
After a moment or so of watching redundant television, the Hunter known as Marcus/Raven yawned as he glanced at his wrist watch, sighing as he shook his head in disbelief. Though it was getting later in the evening, Insomnia has been a reoccurring issue for the Business Manager. Letting out a sigh, Marcus got up and locked his room door.
After a few moving of this and that, he was decked out in his old Hunter gear minus the mask and goggles. Tonight he was going to be prepared for any action. Slinging his modified MP-5 and putting on his borrowed trench coat, Marcus smiled as he did a final check of his equipment beneath his loose long tailed coat. It seemed like he had everything this time. Automatic rifle, WP grenades, a couple of frags, two flash bang grenades, and three pairs of special clips; each holding special rounds for special people. This caused the crooked grin to grow as he finalized a mental checklist and began pacing around the love seat. This was a habit he picked up from his father. According to his Dad, they would walk instead of drive to the Helicopter pads to listen to their stride. If they had any loose gear or equipment that could be heard while walking, it meant it wasn't secured enough and that when trying to be all stealthy, it would fail due to noisy gear.
Letting out a sigh as the boring part of his set up was done, Marcus did a final adjustment of his Kevlar Tactical Vest and closed up the trench coat. In a few moments, he was gone, locking his room behind.
[Exit]
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Posted: Sun Sep 06, 2009 2:49 am
Finally, the huntress managed to make it to Raven's room, grunting slightly at carrying around the basically dead weight of the passed out hunter. Muttering to herself between chuckles as she relived the moment in her mind over and over, she slipped her hand around his waist into his pocket, trying to find his keys. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done - good lord that man had a lot of freaking pockets.
Not finding them in either pants pocket, and not really wanting to dig more than she had to, it was becoming more and more of a hassle to balance his weight up in a way she could go fishing through his various pockets. At one point, she almost had him pinned up against the wall with her hips while her hands flitted from one pocket in his tactical vest to the next, still with no luck. With women it was easy - there were only so many places they could comfortably keep a keyring. Damn men and their big pockets. How many did one man need at any given moment?
Finally giving up, sighing in frustration, she thought about shaking him til he came to, just to ask him where his keys were. This, too, proved to be unrealistic, as after a few shakes she began to get a little worried that vomit was the next step.
"Oh, you so owe me," she muttered to him as she took his weight on herself once more, shuffling down a few doors to her own, managing to fish her keys out of her jacket pocket.
[Exit to Kerri's Room]
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Posted: Mon Sep 07, 2009 10:12 pm
A bit dazed and extremely tired, Marcus dumped his gear next to his fridge box as he looked around the room with his weary smile still on his face that he carried from Kerri's room. He sighed as he went over to his bed and flopped on to it and spread his arms out as he stared into the ceiling. For a while, his head stopped in pulsing and his stomach wasn't as upset as it was earlier, but now that he was back in his room, the world went upside down. His stomach growled in protest as the lights seemed to cause the painful pulsing to return. Marcus let out a moan as he threw one arm over his eyes.
"Dammit..." He groaned, turning to his side as he threw one arm beneath his head for support. Glancing to where the light switch was, Marcus sighed as he removed his one boot and threw it at the wall, hoping to hit it. Nothing but the boot ricocheting into his gear. Taking off his second boot, the dark haired man focused on the switched and gauged his last throw. With the proper guesstimate, he threw his heavy boot once more and the room went dark. In a few moments, not a noise or thing stirred in that dark room.
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Posted: Wed Sep 09, 2009 6:54 pm
With only a handful of hours of sleep, Marcus grudgingly dragged himself off his bed and went straight to the bathroom. After a few minutes of clean up and what not, he was ready for work. Changing into a pinstripe suit with matching tie, Marcus bore a smile of sinister intent. Unlike the other Hunters here, Marcus had a daytime job he had to be at. Sure that it was daylight and that most of the "special" hunters were asleep, Marcus slipped out and went to work.
[exit]
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Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2009 1:04 am
Stumbling into the room, Marcus sighed as he glanced at his reinforced bedroom door. Though he would usually lock and set up his security parameters for his room, the hunter was a tad under the weather and a bit drunk to be dealing with locking mechanisms. Leaving the door slightly open, the man simply dragged himself over to his bed while undressing his ruined tactical vest, removing his hunting gear and shirt, and simply flopped onto the bed. In another four hours, the man had to wake up to a new day and dress back into his shirt and tie and off to the Investing agency.
"God...f*ck work." He grumbled as he laid face down on the bed, throwing a pillow over his head as his spinning head eventually faded into darkness.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 10:38 pm
s**t...that wasn't long. The dark haired thought as he raised his head from his resting area and glanced at the alarm clock perched on his work desk facing him. Though in a few more hours he had to wake up for work, the alcohol in him prevented him to sleep. He was restless and groggy. Shifting in his bed and glancing around the dark room, Marcus let out a loud sigh as he threw one hand over his head. It was apparent that tonight's past events were finally going to get the best of him. Looking around near where a pile of his clothes from work were, Marcus shifted through the dress slacks and found his cellphone.
Using speed dial, he hit the number for his job. "This is Marcus. Ain't gonna make it in today. Swine flu, I think. E-mail work load and I'll see what I can do while trying to get better...er...if Johnson comes in today, let him know he still has to call Jackson Marshall for that extension...*cough* *cough* But yeah...I'll see you when I get better." With a push on the red cancel button, it was all done and good. Bearing a mischievous smile on his tan complexion, the hunter let out a relaxing sigh.
"At least I'll get time to rest up on my terms." He mumbled as he returned his gaze on the dark ceiling, aiming to find some kind of solace in the darkness for sleep.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 10:58 pm
Sleep continued to evade him. Seeing how he wasn't going to get any, the hunter sighed, rubbing his eyes of the sense of fatigue and changed into his combat gear. Though he didn't feel to fresh, the dark haired hunter didn't care. Hell, he didn't have work tomorrow anyways or as long as he had the Swine flu, he would be riding on his sick days till the bitter end.
"Don't f*ckin' work for a company as long as I do to not get some perks..." Marcus grumbled to himself as he adjusted his harness and web gear to hold his four grenades: two flash bangs and the other two WP grenades. Inspecting the torn tactical vest, the hunter shrugged and let out a small sigh before putting it on. Though the man knew it was torn, he couldn't tell much of a difference in the feel of it. Pleased with that, the man took his automatic rifle and slipped out of his room once more decked in his hunting equipment.
[exit]
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Posted: Tue Sep 22, 2009 11:48 am
Finally away from the group and having to be actually really tired, the hunter sighed as he dumped his gear, stripping down to nothing but his pants. Running his hands through his hair to shake off some of the tiredness, Marcus flopped onto his bed. In seconds, the man was officially knocked out.
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Posted: Tue Sep 22, 2009 2:59 pm
Another text message revealed itself on Marcus' cell phone as the screen lit up, followed by a series of vibrations. When opened, it would read: "When you get the chance, after you have recovered, I think you and I should do a little digging... I want to learn more about this Vampire that attacked us earlier. Shoot me a text when you can.
-V"
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Posted: Thu Sep 24, 2009 7:39 am
Though it wasn't much, it was enough for the dark haired man as he stirred from his rest. Rubbing what fatigue was there in his eyes, the quasi-alert hunter rose from his scattered bed sheet and blanket to study his surrounding. His body was sore, but not as much and his head, well, it could be worse. Bearing an amused expression on his face, the man went to his small bathroom to freshen up some, hopefully regain even more vitality that wasn't gain during his little power nap.
In a few moments, dressed in his black fire-resistant Kevlar hunting gear, emerged Marcus with a smile on his face and his wet hair crudely flatten by hand. Noticing the glowing screen on his forgotten cellphone, Marcus went over and popped the screen open to read the new message. An amused grunt escaped the hunter as his thumbs went to reply. Finishing with the press of the send button, the man went about gathering what gear he dumped and began to organize himself. Tonight, he was going to finish off what happened last night.
However, instead of taking his modified MP-5, Marcus went over to his workbench, reaching underneath it to unlock a footlocker to pull out a large custom built black finish Carbine M-4. Attached beneath the barrel was the single shot grenade launcher and on top a holographic 10x scope. It had taken Marcus months to get the assault rifle to what it was now and it was a beauty in his eyes. Though heavier than his usual automatic weapon, the power the beast held was enough to tear any Immortal into shred. Thus the weapon was named "Peacemaker". Bearing a grin of childish delight, the half-Asian gunman sighed as he then went about switching magazine clips he had on him and readied himself. Though he forgot to get his Jericho pistol from Kerrigan, Marcus shrugged it off and kept his .45, knowing the M1911 might prove more useful against the fiend than his smaller gun. Less rounds, but more power.
Now with Peacemaker slung beneath his arm and his body weighted down by ammo and new grenades, namely the cylinder WP grenades, Marcus went over to his dresser to retrieve his black ski mask and special goggles. Now feeling complete and truly ready, Marcus shifted his gear a bit and jumped to listen for any loose equipment. Nothing was to be heard. Beneath the black mask, Marcus once more wore his smile that was the equivalent of a fox.
"Time to roll, scumbag." The hunter muttered, now in the predatory mood.
[exit]
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