Stalking The Night (Open)

[Jacob "North" Cassidy]

“It's all the same.
Only the names will change
Everyday, It seems we're wastin' away

Another place
Where the faces are so cold
I drive all night
Just to get back home

I'm a cowboy
On a steel horse I ride
I'm Wanted, Dead or Alive.”

Smoke clung to the man as he leaned against the lamppost; twisting around his overcoat like an evanescent ghost leaking from the butt of his cigarette, as Bon Jovi’s voice echoed into the still night air from the nearby building. He couldn’t help but smirk slightly as he listened to the song, one of his favorite classics. It always reminded him of his own life; moving from place to place for his work, one supernatural creature or the other looking to have his head on a pike. Then again, he wasn’t much better; moving from place to place to put a supernatural creature’s head on his own pike.

It was a vicious cycle, but it kept everything balanced, and that was the way Jacob liked it.

Everything had a balance; the sun rose at the morning, the moon at night. Man hunted beast, beast hunted man. It was a circle that they continually walked, and it would never change; the same balance was always kept. That was what he considered his job to be, keeping the balance. That was the idea behind the Hunters, in his mind. They were there to keep the balance between the Vampires, the Lycans, and the Humans. They kept both the Vampires and the Lycans from becoming too powerful, and kept the Humans from being hunted from extinction by the two powerful factions.

To his point of view, there was no way to kill either the Lycans or the Vampires; not completely. They’d always find a way to survive. The key was to keep the balance; the numbers even on either side. The Hunter was fine with leaving those who weren’t a threat alone; if they didn’t harm anyone, he was content to let them be. It was the moment they made the decision to harm a living being for any reason other than self defense that they became a threat. He had one rule, and it was what drove him in his endeavors against the supernatural predators of the night.

Hunt those that hunted.

Not all Hunters shared North’s view, but they could fuck off for all he cared; it was one of the many reasons he worked alone. He wouldn’t kill unless the enemy was indeed a threat; some of them were actually decent people, sometimes stupid kids who had gotten turned by random chance. It may have been his training, it may have simply been his nature, but the Hunter only hunted those that did the same. The malicious creatures, the predators that stalked the helpless; those were his enemies. Not the poor college kid or the camping teenager that was turned by a creature they had thought only existed in nightmare. Those who chose not to feed off of humans in the back alleys, those that used other means of surviving with their conditions; North could respect them, and leave them to their business. It was only when they crossed the line, the threshold from being harmless to menacing with their first kill. That was when they became the Hunter’s problem.

Tonight was one such time.

North took one last drag from his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and putting it out with the heel of his boot. Tonight was one of those nights where he was on the job, looking for a Dog that needed to be put to sleep. Lycans and Vampires were the creatures he could stand; it was the Dogs and the Bats he couldn’t let live. The rabid dogs and the bloodsucking bats; they were just animals, waiting to be put down. One such Dog was confirmed to be in the area, and North was lurking in Longacre Square to hunt it down. He’d be lying if he didn’t say he wasn’t going to enjoy his work that evening. There was something satisfying about laying to rest those who didn’t deserve to live; similar to that of killing enemies of your homeland, really.

Feeling the comforting weight of the assorted weapons on his person, North began his search for the Dog, walking through the winding streets of the city, eyes scanning for movement. He’d likely have to check the sewers, but he put that off for last; as much as he did it, scouring the stench filled system of sewage was not something he had gotten used to or become inoculated against. Why creatures decided hiding in dank places such as that was a good idea, he’d never know. North continued on his way, shaking his head against his musings, Bon Jovi’s voice fading into the background as he stalked off.

Dead or Alive…

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[raban]

Raban was too used to the Southern warmth and even now it seemed too cold for him to be staying in this vile nest of chickens for much longer than he felt he had to be here for. He knew only too well what the likely outcome of the truce would be, especially when he was also aware that neither side were honouring the code. No honour amongst thieves, cutthroats and the dark creatures of the night apparently. And what with the ever increasing number of hunters sprouting forth from the human population as the supernatural presence of wolf and bat seemed to fade further from fiction into the realms of possibility.

Life was getting far too complicated. Even for a traitor, one who went against what his kind stood for... what Vampires stood for... One who had seen a lighter end of the tunnel that was forever dwindling. His feet thudded gently on the pavement, his weight translating in his stride. Every turn and twist of New York were foreign to him... the numerous scents alone were enough to have made him walk around twice just to get his bearings.

He pulled the heavy coat closer round his frame as he moved, it was something he could easily divest, stow away and come back to if he ever had to change for whatever reason. Those reasons however hardly ever seemed to gain such provocation out of the old pure bred these days. He wasn't the oldest to be walking the earth by far but old enough to have witness the pinnacle moment of America's history. Which was more than some turned could say... the turned were always the quickest to be found and slaughtered.

Raban's ear twitched, he could hear music... it wasn't strong enough for him to hear the words, only the melody. He continued walking away from it. He was not aware of the hunter in the area not that Raban stood out much. For the most part, he just gave off the impression of one walking home from a late shift. His reason however for being out at night was close to needing to be curbed. Raban often went for long amounts of time without feeding and his last had been some time ago in a previous State. He could not go forever without a fresh kill and whilst living on rats and other such fair was something a Turned could get away with more often, a pure bred didn't quite have the same luxury. Sure, he fed off the odd cat or stray dog but it was never sustaining. Proper prey kept him from needing to kill more often and so the needs of the many outweighed the need of the one.

It was why he went after only those who would not be missed or were too old and sickly to carry on living. If anything, he was doing Humanity a favour by weeding out such personages. Making them a stronger race in which perhaps one day would truly rule the earth for their own. For now, they were still fodder to the hundreds and thousands of wolf and bat alike.

Raban smiled to himself, the alpha's of both clans would not find as amusing as he found it. He turned the corner, somewhere round here was a homeless old man that Raban had seen earlier in the day. It was one problem with large cities and towns, you ended up swimming in the scents that lingered and most of them were not fresh which made the task of hunting even more difficult to one who did not have the luxury of a pack. And homeless people always seemed to find a habitual way of losing themselves and hiding from society even with their musky odoured scents of dirt, grime and urine.

He caught hold of a scent that was not decayed and old and he knew from the scent alone that it was neither of the wolf or bat variety. Someone was around and Raban could not quite make out yet if it was that of a decrepit older male or that of a younger sprout. Whatever it was, it seemed to be coming closer to him and so he found suitable shadow to hide in, his face being the only possible thing to be possibly glimpsed at.