Unlucky Meetings (Will)

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The nights were always cold in these parts of the coast. Even if it was California, he didn't appreciate the wet air near the docks. Perhaps that was why he was grateful to find the contacts who had gone there had disappeared. Certainly, it meant that his only real lead had dried up, but it also meant that he wouldn't have to risk a fight spilling out into the water. He would just have to resume the search in the last place where he found a lead, which was this lonely stretch of grass that they called a park.

His sword weighed heavy on his back as he slipped through the shadows, avoiding the street lights to keep from having his night vision spoiled. Easy as it would be to catch a drug dealer on foot, he preferred to not need to chase them down on foot. He would find someone else who knew something, preferably before whoever found out about his snooping killed another of his sources.

Sniffing the air, his shoulders squared as he registered a new scent on the air. It was definitely Ly-Ceen, but the stench of the city was carried on the wind, and it made it hard for him to identify whoever it was. The mask would do nothing to conceal his identity if it was a Ly-Ceen who he had met before. The scents that they carried were unique enough that something as useless as a mask would be all but laughable. His hand rose to the handle of his blade as he stood taller and turned around to look at the newcomer.

His eyes narrowed as he recognized the young Lycan, and he couldn't help but compare him to the father that he remembered. This young man could not compare. Not yet.

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    It was a poor habit, no doubt, but habits existed due to practice, and that was how one broke habits, right?
Turning the corner of the park, he skirted a tree as he checked the notebook page he had his notes scratched on, his mind still trying to make sense of the information his contacts had given him. The local gangs had been butting heads with some mercenary group that had come to town a few months before he had, and the clashes, while isolated and mostly hidden from the public at large, were brutal, because the Gang members, while not trained and hardened as the merc's were, tended to be rather inventive and canny, having the home-field advantage didn't hurt either. but the mercenaries where better trained, and battle hardened. thus far, they were equal in their hardware, but that couldn't last, and a city wide arms race would explode out beyond the talents and limits of the local law enforcement in days.

    Muttering to himself as he scribbled on the ragged page, he paused mid-stride before he tucked his pen into his pocket and stuffed the piece of paper into his jacket, his nose twitching as he looked around, realizing there was someone else there. In a heartbeat he had located the other male, also a mix-blood it seemed, by the scent he could barely catch in the stale air. Feeling the wind suddenly pick up and shift, he kicked himself for zoning out on his notes. He didn't know if the other male was a threat or not, but given the... costume... it was hard to say. Few others knew he was here, and he was unsure if his grandparents would have sent someone after him, since they didn't exactly approve of his coming to Jump, but he doubted it would have angered them to the point of hiring someone to come after him. Unless they asked the Council to send a Sheriff after him that of course.

    Dark as it was, he could still see more of the other male than most, even with the light glaring behind him, but it was still hard to make out the face, likely due to what looked like a mask. Now the dilemma was, what to do? Keep walking as nothing odd was going on? Well, that was likely the best move, as nothing had actually happened yet. Running was always an option, but he wasn't a coward, and there was not a clear threat, which also precluded an attack option. So then inquiry was always a method as well, however, most people were put off by random questions asked by random people.

    Without a clear cut course of action being presented, Will decided that it would be best to keep moving, and let the--

His head snapped to the side as another sound came to him over the normal din of the cities background, and he saw the glint of glass and metal in an alleyway across the street, however in the shadows, he could tell, he was not the target but the other Ly-Ceen. Without thinking he reached his off hand out and his eyes flashed brightly as he reached out and felt the expanding force of energy of the cartridge detonating, the bullet moving forward from the breach of the rifle...

    'Too slow!' Will thought in a mild panic as his powers tamped down the explosion and bullet exited the end of the gun at less than half it's normal velocity, yet still fast enough to cause harm, even as time seemed to return to normal and he flung his other hand out, an arc of fire washing the alley exit with blue hued flames, shouts of surprise sounding from the would be shooter as Will broke into a sprint for the gunman, a glance telling him the other male was perfectly alright. After all, Ly-Ceen might not quite be bullet proof, but their hides where a lot thicker than a humans...

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A low growl rumbled in Drew's throat as he sensed a threat nearby, a talent he had honed while living in a war-zone. The problem was that he'd gotten himself distracted with the appearance of the other Ly-Ceen, and he didn't see the gunman until he was already firing. The bullet glanced by his left cheek as he moved out of its way, burying itself into the bark of a nearby tree with a thunk. His speed would have allowed him to move much faster if he'd been paying attention, and he kicked himself mentally for the lapse. The last thing he needed was for Will to get himself hurt trying to protect him, just because he was being clumsy.

Disappearing in a flash of blue energy, he reappeared behind the gunman and pulled him up by his collar, holding him against the wall with his forearm. He'd always been faster than his father, and that was one thing that didn't seem to have changed across worlds. The man had the foul scent of the stagnant water near the docks, and that meant that he was directly involved.

"Did you really think it would be so easy?" he growled, his voice modulator disguising his Russian accent. "Tell me where your boss is holed up."

He ignored Will for the moment, holding the gunman up off of the ground until his toes dangled a couple inches away from the concrete. The man scrabbled at the armor on his forearm, but he found no purchase as the pressure increased on his collar bone. Growing desperate, the man pulled a knife and slashed it up toward the Ly-Ceen's chest, but Drew was expecting the move and intercepted his strike by hitting the hand with the back of his fist.

A crack in the gunman's wrist told Drew that it had broken, but the man didn't seem to notice until a couple heartbeats later, when he began to choke instead of screaming, due to the injury to his chest.

"N-no!" the man gasped, his uninjured arm still scrambling for a grip. "Please! H-he'll kill me!"

"I would be more concerned about the two-hundred and one bones left in your body that I have yet to break," Dante told him. "But do not worry. I will allow you to keep your life, if that's any consolation. You may lose the ability to walk, however."

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    Will almost stumbled at the flash of light that blurred past, but he instead slowed to a trot and stopped a few steps away, his fingers flexing as he winked the small lingering flames out of the alley.

    Stopping to look at the other two males, he then reached out as the exchange between them turned dark; "Whoa wait! There might be a better way to negotiate this here." he crouched down and looked the rifle over carefully, making sure not to touch it. It was a common type of hunting rifle, the bolt action meant there were limits on how fast it could fire and it didn't seem to be able to hold more than five or six shots. it was totally over powered and the wrong kind of weapon to use in this sort of situation, which meant this man was far from professional.

    "He's not even a pro, look at this rifle, wrong tool for the job. You're more likely to get something useful out of his gear than him." Will then reached into his pocket and pulled out a rubber glove, and slid it over his hand, before he dug into the pinned gunman's back pocket and pulled a wad of cash out; "Look at this... He's a fall guy." he fixed his gaze on the other Ly-Ceen, and narrowed his eyes at him as the distinct odor of urine became apparent from the attacker; "Turn him loose."

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The instinct to obey his father's commands was still instilled somewhere deep inside of himself, especially considering that he had been a military commander when Drew had been very young, but this was not that man. His eyes didn't move over to the young hero, but stayed on the clearly terrified man as he released his bowels. The stench was disgusting, but it brought back memories of dark places, and the thought only made him more angry.

This information could be vital to his getting home, but he couldn't very well tell Will that. He had to get the information, but his father was still young enough that he didn't understand the truth of how the world worked. He was still naive enough to think that combating evil meant that you could be soft.

"This man is going to lead me to his boss," he stated, trying to get a hold of his temper. "And it is none of your business. Leave."

The last thing he wanted to do was fight Will, but he wasn't about to let this lead slip away, either. Carrying the man would slow him down to the point that he might not be able to escape flat out, and even if he could, Will would probably follow his scent. This could get dicey, and knowing how stubborn his father had always been, it probably would.

Why did his life always have to be so complicated?

"No doubt he is low level, but he has a contact, who will lead me to his contact, and eventually I will find the man behind it all."

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    "And just what exactly is so damned important about his boss then?" Will asked defiantly as he tossed the wad of money to the pavement.
Squaring his shoulders, William curled his lip at the stench that came from the terror stricken man as he gave up his struggle and soiled himself further. Looking the would be gunman over once more he then focused his attention on the mans filthy pants then pointed directly at his knees; "Limestone dust. Any idea where that might come from? No? How about the quarry south of town?"

    Will set his jaw as he stared back at the other male, his eyes intent; "Am I going to have to do this for you or are you going to be able to take a step back and be more objective. He shot at you, he missed. Now he's too shocked to even recall his own name, but his gear, clothes, ant whatever else is in his pockets, will be more than enough to tell you where you should look next. But harming him further, is a waste of time, and needless. And I will not stand for it." He kept his eyes and voice level, even though he felt a nervous energy in the pit of his stomach as he forced himself to stay calm, and again size the other male up. It would likely be a much closer contest than either of them bargained for yet, but that did not mean that a confrontation was a sure thing yet.

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Looking the other Ly-Ceen male over for a long second, he growled and took a long breath to memorize the man's scent signature and dropped him to the ground, the man's jacket and belt scraping against the wall as he crumpled to his knees and slumped over sideways. There was little chance that he would be able to get the information with Will watching him, even if it didn't come down to a fight. As frustrated as the thought made him, nothing could make him want to lay a finger on his father, even if it was a watered down, younger version of the man. The air was thick with the scent of fear, but he sensed that the nerves weren't all on the part of the pathetic would-be assassin.

They looked so similar... But deep down they were so different. What had happened that had turned his father into the hard-bitten warrior that he had idolized growing up? What pain or cruelty in the world had changed him from this idealist boy to a General? There was something deeply unsettling about the question, but it was comforting to see that he'd not always been so cold and hard.

"You are still too young and naive to be of much good in this world," he stated matter-of-factly. "But somehow, I hope it lasts."

He would follow the man's scent back to where he'd come from. It wasn't quite as sure of a shot as he'd been hoping that this lead would provide, but at least it let him out of the situation without getting into a confrontation. Leaving the quivering man as a pile of terror and bodily fluids cowering against the wall, he walked away and sniffed the air. There would be no rain to obscure the trail for a while yet, but that didn't mean that he could be slow about it.

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Will was taken aback for a moment by the comment, and it totally derailed his train of thought, forcing him to take a single step back, as his eyes searched the other male, then the dazed shooter, an almost frenetic impulse telling him that he had missed some important detail.

Watching the other Ly-Ceen closely as he left, William tilted his head to the side, until it cracked softly, then gingerly examined the items he had dug off of the shooter, and then carefully, making sure he was wearing gloves, too the rifle, and worked the action, extracting the spent shell, and then triggering the magazine release, his gaze focused on the rounds inside. "Target ammo?" He said softly, as he saw the plain copper coated lead rounds, and the bright brass shell casings.
The brand was clearly stamped on the bottoms of the rounds, around the primers, and he recognized it as a popular sporting brand he himself bought for when he went to the range to practice. It was also absolutely the worst sort of round to shoot at someone who was even partially bullet proof...

With a sudden effort, Will bent the gun barrel at a right angle, then broke the wooden stock over his knee, before he pocketed the bullets and then took the wad of cash and stuffed everything into his backpack, as the man slowly came to.

"Get out of town. If I ever cross paths with you again here, I will extract your teeth out of your face, the hard way." He said as the man looked up at him then scrambled off on his hands and knees.

So it looked as if there were more puzzles to sort out then.


Naive?

[End]