A child was conceived under the influence of herion.
Her unknown birth parents were as high as a bird.
Ironic, isn't it?
What other choice did they have?
They had no money for a child,
much less wanted one in the first place?
Those two looked into every possibility to make some quick cash off of this "miracle" they have created, finding it worth something at the least.
At last, they found their answer in the form of a door to door salesman. For a company called: ITEX.
He was let in with the promise of making the two a fortune off of the misfortunate situation they were in at that moment.
He explained that in exchange for the unborn child, he would grant the parents an easy ten thousand dollars for their troubles.
Of course, they accepted, not really caring what happened to the baby after its birth in a few months.
November 24, 199x
2:42 AM
Hours of meaningless and loveless labor for this child. In the company's hospital bed, ready to steal it away when it emerged.
A beautiful baby girl.
As promised, the couple were given their ten thousand dollars for their time and were sent free after the woman finished her part.
Little is known what happened to these two. Some say, they left NYC, and fled to Alantic City where they overdosed a month or two after the exchange.
As for the child....
So began her life of nothing but torment.
The program she was handed over to was called the By-Half Plan. In short, Doctors and Scientists wanted to play God with a human, and turn them into an immortal being.
The plan was to create the world's first and only manmade Angel, able to travel between realms and speak with the Deities themselves about the upcoming Apocolypse, as forseen by the Biblical texts. Humankind aimed to save their own skin, at the loss of one of their own.
Selfish
The first done to this baby was place her in this cage, like a feral dog. It was almost an ordinary dog crate, except with very hefty locks on the outside, to prevent her from escaping.
At a week old, the experiments began. Very small ones. Simple pricks of needles, injecting chemicals into her fresh, untouched veins, attempting for her to grow a tolerance to them for the future. They wanted her to adapt.
Week two, ITEX had their first flatline for Subject 00. Brought back after twenty minutes of desperation to not have to start over, since they only had a certain amount of time and budget.
When her brunette hair started to grow out a month in, ITEX employees realized something. They got to shape an Angel. Whatever they wanted her to look like, it was their choice.
A poll.
One needle to the skull, her locks would change in color permanently.
Black.
Another change. Her eyes. One needle to each eye, sinking right into the soft tissues, injecting the most stunning blue pigment they could get their hands on.
As she increased in age, so did the experiments.
At the ripe old age of six, a major procedure needed to be done.
Ripped away from the cage she grew up in, Subject 00 screamed bloody murder. It took minutes to strap her to a cold metal table, leather digging into her pale flesh, constricting any movement. A strange, large machine was brought over the child. Of course, she never knew what was happening at the time.
With her arms extended and strapped down, veins were perfectly bulging from the skin, easy to detect.
Two thick medical IVs were stuck into her veins, causing the child to continue to scream. Attached to the strange machine, the Subject was ready.
Moving to the sides of the table, one Doctor flipped a few switches, causing this pinkish liquid to slowly trail through the plastic tubing and into the little girl.
IT WAS LIKE FIRE.
The girl cried, begged, squealed, screeched, shrieked.
Until there wasn't anything coming from her lungs anymore.
She laid there, motionless, but concious.
The pain ran throughout her body.
-/-
It finished after an hour.
What the child did not realize was she had small percentages of animal DNA flowing through her bloodstream, shaping the cells she already had.
Speed:
Cheetah
0.5%
Strength:
Elephant
0.5%
Flight:
Raven
2.0%
After this major procedure, it was nothing but training her mind, her body, and her loyalty.
Like before, she was barely fed, only given supplements to keep her alive. She was starved more often to test her, if she would bite the hand that fed her.
She would be forced to run on treadmills for days at a time, stamina and speed checks; to lift up to sixty tons at a time, strength and endurance checks; to injest the knowledge of every language and be able to speak it, however never taught to read or write.
It would only be a few weeks until those black wings would tear, rip and burst through the skin on her back, meaning she would have to learn to fly, like a baby bird forced from its nest.
She was fifteen.
At the age of sixteen, she had her chance.
The scientists had put her kennel on wheels and pulled her along towards another laboratory. It was loose, the bars.
Subject 00 had only seconds for this plan to work.
C R E A K !
The young lady was able to bend the metal bars far enough for her naked, thin, and yet thick frame to fit through. Using the speed that the Doctors and Scientists gave her, she bolted as fast as she could to the nearest window.
C R A A A S H !
She was finally free.
For the first time in her life, she smelled the fresh air, saw the nature growing and roaming around her, felt the grass on her bare feet. She was...entranced, yet strangely terrified.
That quickly changed with the danger behind her.
Spreading that twenty foot wing-span, she's off.
-/-
Subject 00 glided into the city that night.
NYC, the city that never sleeps.
She was cold, naked, hungry.
Desperate.
Taking the first chance to land, she slid into an alleyway behind a fast food chain.
The smell from behind the dumpster nearby was so off-putting but incredibly enticing since she was hungry.
Ignoring any morals (as if she had any) she dove in the trash and fished out enough stale bread and fries to fill her for the night.
At least, before she vomitted most of it up later from the conditioning her stomach had been put through.
Subject 00 quickly adapted to eating after the second time throwing everything up.
Sitting there, the lady gazed around at her surroundings.
Everything seemed so lively for it being this dark outside. She didn't understand anything around her.
Seeing a billboard above her head, the lady took herself up to stand at the ledge, looking at the letters in front of her.
She couldn't read it, however.
It was for a Gentleman's Club.
But...she stared at the name of the man who ran it.
Ryan.
The name seemed to stick...
And in that moment, it was hers.
-/-
Moving forward a few years of struggling for shelter, spending nights in strange men's beds for cash, fishing through dumpsters for scraps of food or clothing...
Ryan has learned what it is like on the outside.
Well, not entirely.
Some things still aren't branded in her memory.
Ryan managed to find a job without any background check! One where she wouldn't need to learn to read or write.
She became a stripper at a local joint called The Devil's Angels.
As far as the owner is concerned, she is another broken woman from a shitty alcoholic father who couldn't keep his hands to himself.
With her thick, voluptuous frame, long ebony curls, shining oceanic colored eyes, pale fair skin, he couldn't have asked for a more beautiful woman to work for him.
You would think they would question the giant wings on her back, right?
No.
Everyone who comes in sees the wings as a prop from how drunk or high they are. No one questions if they are real.
Perfect for Ryan.
Not everything is all rainbows and sunshine however....
The nightmares of her growing environment still plague her mind every night when she closes her artificial eyes.
The stabbing,
pokes,
jabs,
cuts,
blood,
smells,
everything.
Moving on from this is going to be a very difficult task for the Little Bird.
With ITEX still searching for their lost subject, to the struggle to feed and clothe herself every day and night.
But in the end...
She's ready as she's ever going to be.
-/-
Subject 00's Official Doctorial Checksheet:
Physical abilities:
- Training has allowed Subject 00 the ability to lift up to 60 tons with enough rage.
- Speed is a key factor for the Subject. Last clock in: 102 MPH.
- Can be increased with enough outer stimuli.
- Flight is critical for Subject.
- Height is not a factor, only air quality and pressure.
- Atmosphere flight: still not possible.
- Healing factor is still a progress.
- Subject 00 can heal others, but not itself.
- Takes on others injuries on its body.
Mental Abilities:
- Subject is able to analyze minds of anyone it has come across, even the most reluctant to let it.
- Excellent memory tests
- Able to recall every previous lesson at the snap of fingers.
- Language tests are successful.
- Every language can be translated by sense of hearing, including creature.
Spiritual Abilities:
- Black, smoke-like wisps work as intended. Choke whatever living being they touch if inhaled. Can also take the shape of any animal it chooses.
- Subject seems to have an attraction towards animals, and they seem to attract back.
- "Mother Nature" aspect.
Others "aspects" noteable for Subject 00:
- Likes to collect shiny items, such as paper clips.
- Could be a factor of the Raven DNA
- Able to use anything to its well being.
- Turned metal fragment into knife by strength
- Seems to like the colors blue, black and white.
- Ironic.
- Does not like meat.
- Will eat if starved beyond recognition
- Prefers plants and plant by-products
- Animal by-products such as milk seem to rest well with it
- Terrified of thunderstorms
- Due to fact of living conditions throughout life
- Alone in labortories
- Due to fact of living conditions throughout life
Overall, Subject 00 still in need of work. Some failed tests can be redone next session.
ITEX Head Researcher
By-Half Experiment
-/-
Friends? What are those?
Jason Kei Hale...is an interesting person that Ryan has associated with in her earlier years. With some romantic tension between them somewhat gone after a difficult split and two years of distance, they meet again in Vegas by chance. Now, they are again grouped together with a mission they never finished: take down the organization that created Ryan. Both equiped with different skills and abilities, they set out to stop the organization from creating new threats to destroy humankind.
Current status: "Answer the fucking phone, Jason..."
Rules of RP:
- FC: Lily Collins
- At least a paragraph for a response.
- 18+ activity is here. Writer is 23. No one under the age of 18, please.
- I love to Roleplay a ton of different ways. Please, don't be afraid to ask for another setting if the current doesn't tickle your fancy.
- Have fun! That's what we are here for, right?
Comments
When no questions came to what he had shared, he wouldn’t bother on continuing any deeper. In the end, it didn’t matter how he operated just so long as he was doing their work. Unfortunately, the mess he had stumbled upon in the gambler’s city counted under that umbrella. For now, Jason’s plate was set down when he’d had enough of it, left to his thoughts up until the phone vibrated. Only a handful or two in total had the number to begin with, so when it rang he picked it up in a matter of seconds.
“Yeah… it’s him,” He responded to a murmured tone on the other end.
“I’m still in the city, they said to wait and keep an ear out.”
“Freemont.”
“What time do you want to-”
“Alright, name your place.”
“Seriously..?” Jason’s eyebrow’s raised. He glanced toward Ryan once from the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat.
“Also, I’m bringing someone.”
“A… witness. Someone you’ll want to talk to.”
“Yes.”
“Alright. We’ll be there.”
The call went on for only a minute or so as the essential information was passed back and forth, or so it seemed. There was a hint of surprise in the man’s tone as he questioned the person on the other end, not necessarily bad, perplexed more than anything. Eventually, the call was hung up as he hit the button.
“We’ve got a meeting tonight,” Jason announced. His eyes were on the device for a moment or so as he saved the number that had called. He then turned his attention to her. “But… she said to back up and head out. We’ll be meeting over on the New Vegas, get this–Mandalay Bay.” So much for low key. What the hell did they have rooted all the way over there? He cleared his throat. “She said her name was Rosa. Apparently she’s been following the same trail that you have, and trying to make a connection out of it all. It’s a start, maybe she has some information for us.”
Silence had never bothered Kei, or in the least, it was something he’d taken salvation in as a kid, or was able to push aside when he was older. It was no different now as he put his attention to his meal which had been well overdue with the way the night had transpired. Drinking was always something he’d done better with on an empty stomach, but on the ‘clock’ he was better off being in tip-top shape. He broke the silence with his comment. He couldn’t rightly control how involved the HS became if they chose to take matters to their own hands, but he could mitigate that in the meanwhile when they knew little to nothing. “I know... It’s something to keep in mind, I don’t know anything for sure. At this point better be prepared than nothing.” Yet, here they were sitting in a hotel room eating room service waiting for the phone to ring. The sooner they would move the better.
A flicker of a glance went toward her plate when she offered, and he shook his head a tad and murmured a ‘thanks’ after. He watched as she made her way to the window, still picking at his plate halfheartedly as he thought. He glanced up again when she posed the question. “On the off chance I’m not on a hunt, I can be anywhere. I’m not restricted ‘till the phone rings. Doesn’t matter, if I’m close around and they’ve got a lead, then I’ll take the job if I’m up to it… if the phone goes quiet, then I can always head back and find something from the Headquarters.” Jason set his plate down the moment after with a heavy sigh. “They classify me as a Rogue, which means I’ll take just about any case on the ground that’s a mid-level disturbance. Vampire infestations, wolves, humans stepping out of their bounds, shifters, urban legends that aren’t so fake. I’ll work with others on higher security cases. Those are the ones that’ll generally take me oversea if I have to. They’ll pair us together based on what the case needs; they’ve got a lot of smart men and women sitting in their chairs waiting for the call.”
It was home whether it tore him apart or left him damaged from what he’d see. Some came to the Hunter Society from youth, others like him found it later on and called it a source of stability. An outlet. He’d lost his bite to kill and he’d been kept occupied with a purpose; it was more he could have said before it all. Jason sat up straight when she posed the question, furrowing his brow some. It was a fair question no matter how easy the answer felt in his own head. His eyes lowered to study the carpet.
“Understanding, for one. There’s nobody in the Society that hasn’t gotten there without a story. There’s kids that lost their families to the supernatural world, and the Society is who took them in. Kids with scars that make you wonder what they came from, men and women that wouldn’t have been right otherwise. A lot of ‘em grow up wanting to fight so it doesn’t happen to others.”
Jason gave a slow nod toward her. Of course he understood, and neither needed any distraction from what the primary culprit was either. How far would the HS go with it, the moment they truly got involved? He’d learned things in the past months about the organization that made him wonder but it wasn’t a concern for now. “They’re out to restore balance to things and that comes first. If you’re not a threat to that, then they’ll keep to that. I’ll try to do what I can to make sure it stays- ...”
Right about then, his phone started to vibrate, breaking his train of thought. His eyes darted to the source, picking it up to check the number. He gave Ryan another look before holding it up to his ear. “Hello? -Yes," There was sound on the other end, a woman's murmured voice if she were to attempt and listen in. Slowly but surely he was nodding his head subconsciously.
He still needed that drink. They had food coming in the least, so he’d have to make do with the tension and awkwardness and emotion in the room. He was getting better at it, but there were some things the past couple of years hadn’t been able to train him for.
“I thought you would’ve remembered, leaving me down for the count in an alleyway that night.” Jason’s brow raised with a light amount of cynicism to his tone. “I hadn’t seen you for months and then that was that,” He was just as surprised by the reaction as confused. How could she not remember? Not that she seemed herself if his memory wasn’t lying to him. “Not that I could blame you... It ain’t the first time a girl’s given me just what I’d deserved.” It was done and over, he’d handled it just like any other death. She hadn’t seemed right that night. Not that his memory was clear with how it ended.
The result when he moved was no different than picking up a stray to swiftly have it out of one’s hands the next moment. He needed the space, and so he made sure he had gotten it. He’d done so without aggression or sharp words in the least, where a ‘younger’ Jason may have never gotten past those options... The damage was done, time and distance were tricky things. In the least, he couldn’t look back and see himself as clearly as he used to.
While she took to the chair he’d take his own plate and head back to the hotel bed, sitting with his back propped against the headboard. He settled down in his seat, taking a knife to the steak on his plate as he cut off a section into pieces and started to eat. There was silence in the meanwhile, cushioned by the meals in front of them to buffer the tension that hadn’t dissipated since they had first sat down in the restaurant in the early morning. Now, his mind was reeling on what was next. What could happen. Who might they send, and then what? What if they were alone on all of this?
“You know…” Jason started to speak, several minutes later after finishing what was in his mouth. A wayward glance was cast to her. “If the Hunter Society figures out how you’re involved in all of this, I can’t promise they won’t want more from you. I’ll try and avoid it for what it’s worth, and I could be wrong.”
“Alright,” Jason responded dismissively, phone in hand. Tip or not, it made no difference to him, nor would he feel the sum drop from his account with the rate he was living nowadays. While the order was given he spent the time studying the photos on the wall or the view from the window. When he finally hung up and set the phone down, he had fallen silent upon his answer to her heavy-handed question. And that was it, he’d spoken his piece. It was the tip of the iceberg of the things he could have said, and certainly not his first go-around with giving out apologies over the past year or two midst reflection.
No…. He expected as much of an answer, anymore. He would have accepted the fact that forgiveness was a far cry and moved on as is, it was a risk of admittance after all, but no. When she drew near, his head turned some, brow knitting together as his posture was… still. Even tense; he’d never asked for that nor was he comfortable with receiving it by the looks of things. He shifted to avoid when she leaned into him for that matter, clearing his throat and leaning forward some in his seat. That energy could be felt. “Y’know... I never expected an apology, considering the last time we’d met up,” Jason stated lowly. To the demon, it was just another rough night where he’d woken up on the wrong side of the alley, but so long as they were putting things out in the open, he would. He had his reasons for never coming back around and he’d hold to that. Fate be damned, he’d ended up on the high road from where he had been with the help of a certain Irish girl.
If she hadn’t moved off him by then, then Jason would be up and moving for himself. He rose to his feet, making the window an excuse to train his eyes elsewhere. His hands went into his pockets, watching the street below halfheartedly. “If this hadn’t have come up, I might’ve been in another state by now... I won’t lie to you, part of me wishes that was the case. Doesn’t matter now, I can’t ignore it. We might as well finish what we started in the City. That’s it.”
A tad later, a knock on the door came. Jason cast a pensive glance toward her as well as the door, turning to walk across the room. The thirty in bills was swiped on his way so to not hear the fuss over it, and after checking the peephole and unlocking the door, he opened it. A woman was heard on the other side as he traded off the tip for a tray filled with covered plates. The coverings were taken off as their server thanked them graciously for the tip, and Jason took the tray and shut the door. “Have at it,” He commented, a bit more upbeat as the tray of plates were set down on the table, silverware and napkins on the side.
Jason cast her an expectant glance when the menu was handed over, brow knitting together once she seemed to recoil at the pages and what they contained… then it clicked. That was right. The corner of his mouth tugged once as if he were about to say something, but it was retracted before he would. Stranged how some of the details had slipped from his mind after so long. “...Alright,” The menu was taken once more and given a brief skim before he’d pick something for himself and toss it back down.
“I’m not taking your money, don’t worry about it,” Jason responded a bit stubbornly as she settled out the bills in her hand and placed them on the bed. “I’ll just put it on the bill for the room.” Money had always been a novelty to the man, after all. Whether it was a lack-thereof growing up, or a surplus he couldn’t use to better himself any in his cursed life. To the comment of the feathers, he glanced around the room with a raise of a brow and huffed amusingly. “I’m sure these hotels have seen stranger. And I’d bet you’re not the only girl on Fremont right now sporting feathers, either.” The poor man’s culture shock was inevitable the moment he’d stepped into Old Vegas, for better or for worse.
During the span of silence, he’d pick up the phone and make the call, glancing out the window in the meanwhile. “I’d like to make an order up to a room…” A quiet, yet strangely polite voice was given to whoever answered. A hand was slid into his pocket as he waited for a response and to be told to continue. The order was made, his own first: a New York strip, cooked medium rare. A side of potatoes and a salad on the side. A glance over his shoulder to her was given briefly before asking what they had ‘without meat in it’... Pasta with marinara sauce was decided from what she’d suggested, a salad. A bowl of fruit, fuck it, why not have a backup plan? The room number was given and a few more nods of his head were given to whatever the person on the other line was asking. Finally, he set the phone back down on the receiver. “Twenty minutes,” Jason commented. The silence overtook afterwards when there wasn’t a conversation to resume.
Well, there was. An old conversation, one that should have been brought up years ago. One that they’d never let happen. Now it was, no matter if it put weight in his chest or not. He sat down again following the order, on a different edge of the bed with his shoulders turned to glance over at her. Blue hues held nothing less than a forlorn expression, lips pursing silently. He waited it out until she finished speaking, no matter if it felt like time in the room had stopped. Jason pried his eyes from the carpet when he started to study it, keeping them on her.
Then he left her in silence for what was a painful amount of time. He let his eyes fall on the edge of the bedding, thoughts going back to a time and place. He had to sift through the blur that it had all started to become, shoving other ‘demons’ aside as he thought to that night. The night it had all soured, the night he’d lost his head for the very last time and walked out. The night he’d tried to off himself at the bar in the most inefficient manner he’d come up with thus far only to wake up inside the theatre walls the next morning.
“...I panicked,” Jason stated in a whisper-like tone. “I... had about as much control over myself back then as I had anything else in my life, and… I panicked.” There was a drawn-out pause as he thought, and once more he forced his eyes up off the floor. He owed her the eye contact of it. “I wasn’t in the right place. All the while I was turning into my old man, I could feel it and I hated it… sick in the head and no better than my habits. I couldn’t handle dealing with my own emotions, let alone somebody else’s. But that night, I...” Jason looked away again. He exhaled a breath, running a hand over his face. “I just lost it... I did what I’d always done which was push away all my problems, and there wasn’t any going back from it this time.”
Another silent moment where he’d train his stare elsewhere, expression fallen.
“At the time I don’t think you could’ve fixed what I had going on... Hell knows I wasn’t something that you deserved to be dealing with.” He swallowed and took a breath. “And I have to live with some of the things I’ve done. I’m not proud of it. I’m trying to... but you shouldn’t have had to. I know it doesn’t cut it, but… I’m sorry.”
It didn’t seem to matter whether she was interjecting or not, Jason’s voice still went on. In the end, was it too harsh? The sense of static that lingered in the room after the words left his mouth was a testament to whether he’d overstepped or not. He could have judged by the glance she was giving once she had turned around, leaving the window for the moment… he bit the inside of his lip silently when he knew the words, that name, had slipped out far too easily. “It isn’t a one-person problem anymore... and I don’t think it’s a one-person job either.” Jason responded a bit more slowly.
There was still some truth. The ship had sailed on whether or not it was a matter of his comfort over others or not. He felt a moment of relief when he seemed to win over the matter, all until a wayward look caught the woman’s sharp stare. “I’ll be as careful as anybody,” Jason’s lips pursed. With a glance out the window for himself, he spoke under his breath. “Matter-of-fact, I’ve been careful… not as bulletproof as I thought.” The pet name came back to bite him and he pursed his lips, falling to silence. He’d still manage to win some time whether she was truly on board or not.
“I know... I’m probably the last person you wanted to end up seeing here,” Jason stated quietly, filling in her words where they trailed off. His eyes studied the carpet across the room when his hand rose to rub the side of his head. His tongue was bitten, leaving an awkward amount of silence after. The words were stuck in his throat when he didn’t fully know where they were headed.
The next question had his head raising just as soon as it registered. Pulling his thoughts out of monsters and Hunters and the skeletons in their closets, he blinked. Jason cleared his throat and snapped out of it the moment after. Standing up from the bed, sending feathers freefalling once more when he’d moved, he went to the nightstand and fished through the forms atop it. A room receipt, the ‘courteous’ message about saving water… a folded menu was snatched off the surface after. The top read Paradise Cafe, from the casino’s ground floor. Jason looked it over once or twice and then handed it to her.
“Have at it... Figure out what you want n’ I’ll look after and call it in.”
With all that had happened, some things were better left not known. Not remembered in the least, but with each hunt that came to pass it worked to average out the atrocities that occurred in the last. He used to encounter the same with his deaths. Now it was a matter of finding ways to cope with what he had prevented. What he had encountered. More importantly, the things he couldn’t prevent. One location after the next, if he returned to check up on the theatre once a month it was luck.
At her tone, his brow raised amusingly. Another shift from the bed was made as he walked to the bag against the wall and unzipped the front pocket. The small navy booklet identifiable as a passport was pulled free and opened to the sight of a handful of stamps across the early pages. “Believe it, feet off the ground and all. It takes a couple doses of medication... A good drink. A pair of headphones.” It was the wonders of not having a damned choice at the time. If a hunt were offered on US soil he’d take the drive over a flight any day.
The passport was tossed back on the bed and he took his seat, letting the silence persist when he had spoken his peace. As she spoke up again Jason’s eyes shifted back toward the chair. When nothing immediately came after it, he pursed his lips and averted his gaze until she continued on. “It’s kept me busy... that’s something I needed. Something real. Something that makes a difference and all.” A hand rose to rub the back of his neck, leaning back in his seat. To her finishing words on the matter, his eyes went back once more. He faltered for a moment, studying the floor briefly. “...Yeah. I’ve got a girl,” He only wished the answer could be as simple as that. Jason cleared his throat. “It’s… complicated. She has her own work, I’ve got mine. She’s been at it longer, I don’t do too much worrying.” In the end, it was a half-truth. One far easier to unpack than what was going on in the cat’s head.
With a slight shrug of his shoulders, he was moving on. Within the next few moments, he shot a wary glance when she leaned forward to take his hand. Jason froze in wait, jaw tightened. “Best case scenario, no more accidents. What happened to me might not happen to anybody else. I think it’s my responsibility to handle the spirit that’s in there.” Then, he could do something with it or board up the doors for good. Set it on fire for what it was worth maybe, but that wasn’t the current issue at hand.
He watched her hand slip away, not that he didn’t expect it. We. That was right. When she questioned the choice of wording, he was straight-faced. There was silence from the man as he listened, in turn watching her get up and turn her attention toward the window. “You’re not dragging me into anything I haven’t already signed up for.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “And if it ain’t me, then there are a lot less capable people out there that’re already getting hurt. These things aren’t monitored. They might not give a damn whether its man, woman or child, they’re doing their job or surviving. Little Bird, you’ll need whatever help you can get.” Who was this man, and where had the demon in the theatre ever gone?
“...and all due respect, I’m not giving a choice.” Jason’s tone was stern. “I’ve spent my lives on plenty of less admirable things. I’m not turning my back on something to this scale. I can’t.” Not to mention, the nails were placed in that coffin the moment he called the vampire in. He’d left his own fingerprints on the issue and he’d be damned if walking away from it came back to bite him. When she spoke again, he watched her body language with a furrowed brow, listening in silence. Goddamn, how things had changed, whether it was one way or another.
“How ‘bout this,” Jason prompted quietly. “I’m waiting for a message over what happened last night. Whatever they find out about it, whatever they can come up with… I’ll have somebody on the case from the inside that might be able to help us out. It could be a day, a few, I’m not sure. We can see what they know, what they’ll be willing to tell us. If I can get another set of trained eyes on the issue then I will.” His lips pursed in thought, eyes to the carpet. “Then we’ll work our way up. If we’re careful enough, one of these nights we might come up with a lead to follow.”
When she made her way in and the door was bolted, whether it was habit or for peace of mind above all. It was one of those small measures he went without ignoring anymore, and that was that. Coming back to sit down, he made himself comfortable with an exhale. His eyes did a sweep of her as he thought in silence momentarily. Where to start, where to begin. At least they weren’t out in the open air anymore.
“...It took a little time, a while after everything, a few falling outs later. I wasn’t in a good place, I’d taken a couple of bullets that week, so to speak.” His eyes studied the carpet at his feet momentarily. “Things weren’t working out. I didn’t know what to do about it, I only knew that I was sick of where I was. I’d had enough of that fucking building and city. I was tired of ending up back where I always was.” Jason cleared his throat. “In came one more person to try and blow my head off. She was an acquaintance at the time; she got a hint that I might’ve killed the wrong man and there was going to be hell to pay. Turns out she was after the wrong demon. So I helped her with a job in the city. The next thing I know, I’m being given an offer.”
Jason sat up a bit afterward, casting a glance to the new forms in the room as they draped over her shoulders. His voice lightened a fraction from the doom-and-gloom as he continued on.
“They shipped me off to Georgia. I ran their physical tests, I went through their examinations, interviews… the works. They put us on a hunt in New Orleans not too long after that, helping one of the local witches covens. Someone was corrupting canine spirits to hunt people down. I spent some time in England helping a family. I spent several cold nights in Russia, freezing our asses off in an abandoned asylum building trying to keep Wendigos at bay.” The corner of his mouth twitched at the thought. “A little while back, I spent a week in Cairo. Dealing with…” His words trailed off in thought. “I suppose you could say restless spirits. That and trying to recover anyone that had gone missing, while we were there. Not many of us made it out.”
Picking fights with every cruel thing they were pointed to, so long as it was needed. Necessity. That was the difference. It was what he had developed that the odd mercenary jobs had never trained. Furthermore, asking the right questions. Picking the right weapon. Pointing it in the right direction. Hell knew he had learned what happened when time, place, or decisions went wrong. He’d paid the consequences for those wrong decisions.
His eyes left the carpet, glancing over to her. “A while back I was certified with the Hunter Society. They gave me a new lease on things; license, social, past history. If you look me up anywhere in the public system and my record is clean. There's three or four hundred of us, most have been trained since they were younger, but they are willing to make exceptions.” Jason’s head tilted. “You said ITEX is global, well so are we. There are headquarters in a few places spread across the States. I was trained from the one in Georgia, another's right here, outside of Vegas. We've got affiliates we've worked with in places around the world. We sort out things that human authorities can't, or shouldn’t... Whether it's settling disputes between groups species, exorcising demons, putting spirits to rest. Containing what can't be handled or killed—things that shouldn’t be allowed to walk. Helping people cope with whatever they've gone through. Conducting research, IT, networking, you name it. They've been around longer than you and I, and they'll always be."
For a moment or so, he’d let her digest it all. When he spoke up again his voice was quieted. “If I’m not working then I’m traveling or sleeping. In a couple of years or so, I might have enough to buy out the theatre property and lock the doors for good… maybe. I’ve been thinking about it lately. I’ve... been trying to make up for a lot of things. Hell knows I should. But ITEX..? It might not have to be a one-person mission. So long as we're careful. First thing's first, their modifications can't go on.”
While she stood, Jason pulled his wallet free once more. A paper sleeve was pulled out where the second room key was still tucked inside, labeled for the Fremont Hotel itself. Room 604. He flipped it over once in his fingertips and handed it over to her. When her hand grasped his momentarily he cast a stare up to her. A brow raised. “What you worried about..?” He jested. His hand slipped free the moment after and he shoved the remnants and his wallet back into his jacket pocket. It seemed she was out the door and moving by the time he’d stood up, leaving a swallow or two of the glass behind him.
The demon followed her out a minute or so after, the door ringing on his way out. The city’s night air was wearing off when dawn was no less than an hour or two away. He took to the sidewalk for the nearest road that’d offer a taxi. While glancing around for his best route back, both hands went over his head to sweep his hair back with a heavy exhale. Goddammit. It had to be this, and his head couldn’t decide which part he was less bothered about.
One taxi ride back and he was in walking distance of the main drag. Passing through the casino he had once sat earlier on in the day. Down the hallways to the hotel behind it, up the elevator to the sixth floor, and a left down to the middle of the hallway. The door clicked open when he offered up the key and would look soon enough after.
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An hour passed and he was long since out of the shower, dressed again and settled down in the hotel room. Food in the meantime was deliberated, but he could wait for the time being. After all, nothing truly closed down on the strip anyway. On occasion, his phone’s screen was checked for any updates. Not that they would come that quick, or maybe at all. In the meantime, he switched his status with the HS as ‘occupied’. Whether it was a true hunt or not, his business wasn’t done in the casino town.
When his thoughts and reflections on what he’d walked into seemed like enough to make his head spin, the remaining time was spent laying back, eyes closed and chin to the ceiling until he might hear the door click. The knock on the door was heard, followed by her tone. Opening his eyes, he rose to sit upright, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Yea, yeah… C’mon in,” He spoke up from the other side, loud enough that she might hear. The door clicked open after a moment and opened up to a one-bedroom suite.
The interior was simplistic, modern. The bathroom door was to the right of the entrance. The primary accents to the room as a whole were a series of nature photographs hung in a square on one wall and the contemporary patterning to the carpet. The furniture was standard: a bed, dresser, nightstands, the works. In the back corner opposite to the bed was an Everett styled chair and a small table beside it. The window’s blinds were closed. The only true signs he’d been there were his boots by the entry, a towel draped over the bathroom door, and a black backpack in the other far corner. The handgun from earlier settled on the nightstand beside it.
Then there was the cat himself. He’d taken a seat on the edge of the bed, changed into a different pair of dark jeans, socks, and a plain white shirt. The jacket he’d worn was thrown over the backpack in the corner. He’d given up the more militant attire of the past it seemed, at least for now. Jason nodded his head as she came in. “Take a seat.”
While- or if she would, Jason himself stood and walked toward the door to lock it a second time. Back to his seat on the bed’s edge he went. He leaned forward as he was, propping his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together loosely. “You wanted to know what else is out here… what I’ve been doing. If that’s what we’d left off with.”
“Don’t take the blame out of their hands for a second.” Jason responded sternly. His head shook. “You can spend as much time as you want hating that you’ve been a part of it, and I’d understand. It’s still their Hell to pay. Not yours.” Two days from his last job and he’d already stepped neck-deep again, or so it felt like.
“You’ve got a point,” Jason admitted. From his short stay thus far, it seemed like there weren’t many around in the desert to begin with. Aside from the modified vampires that now went bump in the night.
It wasn’t New York this time. It wasn’t just them in a stolen vehicle, with whatever pipe bomb technology he’d managed to get together in the theatre. He was sure of it, fully equipped nonetheless. When her question came he chewed on his words once more, trying to find the efficient answer. Before he could speak she continued and something about his expression changed. What he’d been doing? It was a loaded question he wasn’t sure he could answer fully. His lips pursed. He’d take a long drink to that too.
As Jason worked himself up toward trying to find a starting place to it all, he looked back to her when she cut off his train of thought. He wasn’t all that mad about it himself. “You’re probably right… hell knows we’ve said enough here.” Not that their host could hear, nor might the local even care. Who knew.
“All things considered, I’d take private over professional right about now.” Security came first. Hell knew he’d ended up in enough awkward situations, or even stitching himself back together on client’s couches before. Jason was quiet for a moment as he thought. “I have a hotel off Fremont street. All I’ve done is dropped some things off, I haven’t moved a thing. I just got the key cards this past evening.” Being that it was approaching early morning as is. The sun would be up in a while longer to give them a little cover. “I’ll give you a key, stop by when you’re ready." Another drink. He was ready to leave as is. Jason cleared his throat after. "Does that sound neutral enough?”
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