hunting (fye _ kiev)

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hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Fye on Wed Aug 08, 2012 1:44 pm

Fye didn't chase after bounties too much anymore. His bakery usually kept him occupied enough--but sometimes there were targets that were too good to resist: smalltime posts that were usually too undersized for the Big Three, but out of the reach of most civilians. On those days, when such notices were posted on the Bulletin, Fye would close up shop early, braid his hair and pin it up so it wouldn't be an easy target, pull on his overcoat, check his saber, and start up the car that he never really used, driving out to wherever in the Substratum his target was located.

This time it was the South District. Place always did bring back memories: running through the streets, chasing a flicker of red through the crumbling structures of a city's caving understructure, Fye grinned. He remembered times like this--faces changed, people disappeared, but even after all these years... there was still the hunt.

His target was a lad named 'Roger', former alias 'Blaze': he was a Harbinger, a flamethrower, and Fye was hot on his trail. He obviously knew the lay of the land better, taking sharp turns and shortcuts to pitch fireballs at him every time he got into range, but the older man had figured out his movement patterns, cutting corners when he turned, and was slowly closing the distance between them.

Until the red-head skidded to a screeching halt and dashed off down a side alley, disappearing from Fye's immediate view; the blond halted outside it, staring into the dimness, senses alert for an ambush, weighing the pros and cons, before taking the plunge into the dark--

--he came through the way's other side in front of one more crumbling structure, a giant building with peeling, once-bright paint and a logo of a giant soda bottle on one wall. A defunct factory? The door nearest him in the structure's wall was ajar, still swinging from the momentum of it having been jerked open, and Fye cracked his jaw in thought before following, slipping inside, trying to be as quiet as possible.


Last edited by Fye on Mon Aug 13, 2012 4:51 pm; edited 1 time in total


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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Kiev on Mon Aug 13, 2012 1:17 am

Kiev didn't like people getting into his personal space. He didn't like people touching him willy-nilly and he certainly did not appreciate it when his personal quarters were violated without his permission. Granted not a lot of people would heed to the sloppy-sprayed "KEEP OUT" warnings he actually took the time to slap onto the exterior walls of his abandoned-factory-turned-pseudo-home but he gave it a shot anyway. Most of the time there was no Kiev present there to be bothered due to his flighty ways and day-trips out of his part of the city, but when he was, he did not want any intrusions of any sort.

None. Nada. Nil.

So when some red-headed stranger of the vaguely menacing persuasion suddenly burst through the doors of his home, the most obvious course of action was to get pissed the fuck off and do something about this weird guy that shouldn't be in his house without his permission and why didn't he read the goddamn signs god people can be really insufferable.

Except that there was a catch.

Kiev was taking off his shirt. It was hot. The weather warranted it. But of course he couldn't go out in public half-naked, no way, no, nononono. So he resolved to just cooling off in his own, undiluted privacy without any threat of people seeing him on the top of a few stacks of soda. When he realized someone else was in the room with him he audibly squeaked, frantically covering his chest up to his nose with his bright yellow jacket and trying to think of what the hell was happening. Of course the intruder didn't seem to really care about Kiev's juvenile panic, instead sizing the opportunity to use a hostage in his attempt to escape for the bounty hunter hot on his trail. He immediately approached the brunette, causing the boy to growl.

There was no doubt in Kiev's mind that he could defend himself if needed, but. He would prefer not to, if he could help it. So, taking his shirt and jacket, he jumped down from three yards of boxes, cushioned his landing by adjusting his posture, and made a beeline for the back door.

He absolutely would not fight the guy.
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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Fye on Mon Aug 13, 2012 4:41 pm

It would never cease to amaze Fye the way that nature claimed its own--even in the city, where the ground was paved over and solid, over the years the grass still found a way to come back. The dilapidated factory was showing the beginning of this stage, metal rusting and crumbling, crates rotting, and here and there on the factory floor were green sprouts, rising up towards the watery beams of sunlight.

He would have taken a moment to admire the place, maybe poke around (once a boy, always a boy; when he was a child, he could never resist exploring places like this), but his attention was rightly diverted by a squeak (higher pitched, not the target, there was someone else here??), and broke into a run at the noise, skirting through the piles of crates to skid out into a cleared sort of area just in time to watch a yellow-colored blur leap off of a pile of crates and scurry off, Blaze giving close chase--obviously trying to use him as a target. Fye broke into a run, giving chase; his footsteps sounded out and Blaze glanced over his shoulder before lobbing a fireball right at him--the blond crossed his arms in front of him, feeling the heat as it passed over him like a wave as the fireball hit him, throwing away the last flickers of fire from his arms and not breaking stride.


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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Kiev on Thu Aug 16, 2012 11:46 pm



Crap. Crapcrapcrapcrap.

This guy was fast. It didn't seem like he was just any ordinary dude wandering the streets. No. This guy was the fucking run from something-- that, or he was dead set on chasing Kiev down for whatever reason, because when he tried to shake him off, wrapping his coat around him and pulling his hood over his head as he scaled a mound of boxes behind his factory, the man seemed to use minimal effort to track his fast-as-lightening movements, seeming to've already set his target mode on lock.

Why the fuck was he being targeted in the first place though? Kiev rarely got any action and he was pretty damn thankful for that-- So why this all of the fucking sudden?

Somewhere a few meters behind him he heard the familiar whoosh of a flame, causing him to turn around and-- Oh. Oh fuck. The guy was aiming behind him and there was someone else oh great now what. And the split second of distraction allowed the fire-ball-maker-dude to hurl a mass of heat towards him and--

Fuck.

Boxes were flammable.

Kiev scrambled off of the mountain of boxes only to be cornered by the red haired male, the trash behind him catching fire and igniting with a hiss. He stood, pulling the shoulders of his jacket around him and growling again before steadying his weight by putting one foot behind him. Red-hair frowned, aware that his pursuer was close behind. He'd have to restrain this kid if he wanted to get away; the hunter seemed to be completely undeterred by his flame blasts so he had to try a different approach. Goddamn the bulletin, goddamn it to hell and back.

He was gonna have to get this kid fast.

But like hell Kiev was gonna let that happen.

The brunette felt a switch go off in his head, the way one might turn off the lights in a room. He could only vaguely acknowledge the change in his stature, the way his legs felt more limber, more flexible, more reliant. His canine-like growl, the sharpening of teeth, an increase in acuity of the senses. A hunched back, staggered feet, then, a gasp. Red-head's eyes widening. He threw the jacket off to reveal an almost cancerous blackening of the skin on his torso and chest, a gradual thing that strives to take over.

He tried to put a rein on his actions, but that was never easy. Red-hair hurled another fireball at him, Kiev taking the painful blunt of the attack on his forearms as he ran towards his attacker. Yes, it hurt. It hurt like a fucking bitch, could feel the singed skin of his arms react to the fire, could feel the pain sharp as knives pierce his conscience. But no. He wasn't in control, was he?

It was someone else.

A slash to the chest tore the red-head's clothing, not harming him, but causing him to stagger back in surprise because damn he's fast.

And Kiev tried to assert his will over himself, panting, eyes wide and trying to focus. He spoke, his voice raspy with disuse.


"What the fuck do you want?"

He mentally grimaced. His voice was not his own, either. There was a growl in there that he did not intend. And even more as he heard the feint whispering of footsteps nearby, causing him to curse audibly.

He didn't WANT to fight goddamnit.


Last edited by Kiev on Wed Aug 22, 2012 3:46 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Fye on Sat Aug 18, 2012 9:24 pm

He rounded the corner, in hot pursuit of both the target and the kid--and then skidded to a stop at the sight of the boy's transformation. A Harbinger as well, then? Hm...

Quickly glancing around, he changed his tactics: instead of trying to intervene between the two of them just yet, the blond ran to a nearby stack of rotting crates (hopefully they'd hold), eyes already scanning the hanging cargo chains from the ceiling--once, he was sure, they'd been used to move boxes of soda from the packing floor to the shipping bay, but now they were going to be re-purposed for a different use...

He managed to make it to the top of his stack without falling, feeling the blaze of fire from a second fireball behind him (his target hadn't noticed him yet, so it must have been aimed at the kid--better hurry), standing on the top crate carefully, and then kicking off from it, leaping into open air to grab onto a chain, his momentum swinging him outwards--

He let go, and gravity took hold, sending him plummeting straight onto his target, both feet landing squarely on the other man's back and sending him facefirst into the ground, all the air rushing out of him and probably breaking a few of his ribs. Whoops. The next second had him slamming the butt of his saber into his temple, knocking him out, and the next had him cuffing him.

Then Fye got off of the man's back, brushing himself off.


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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Kiev on Sun Aug 19, 2012 3:12 am

The shock of the sudden chain of events left Kiev's mind reeling for a few slow seconds as his stance straightened into something more akin to proper posture, though not before growling at the new, unfamiliar face. It wasn't until his attacker was subdued and cuffed that he began to really think, body relaxing slowly.
There was something he was supposed to be worried about.

God, what was it?

Wait. The fire. Oh. The fire behind him.

Again, on all fours, the boy picked up his yellow jacket in his mouth, scurrying away from the fire but not yet out of view; something was keeping him here. Curiosity was it? He wasn't sure, but he paid little mind to the fact as he attempted to pull the jacket over his head like a blanket for a few minutes.

There were levels to his madness. He did not completely lose himself every time he-- he did that weird thing. No. Sometimes it was just a subtle change in the way he'd feel things, understand things. A certain detachment, a hollowness of feeling. Sometimes it was a little more, like huddling in small corners until the adrenaline, the rush passed. Other times left him driven with a weak instinct, fighting certain urges that he feared, almost innately. But no. He did not ever lose control.

Ever.

When he felt the subtle changes of his bone structure recede (painfully even) Kiev poked his head out from under his jacket, suddenly realizing the urgency of the spreading fire. And the man. The man who saw him, um. Do that. And also. Shirtless. Fuck. He slipped the jacket on quickly, running to the site of the fire and started attempting to smother it with inflammables. And then there was the blonde to worry about.

He made a quick, suspicious glance to the other, kicking a pile of scrap metal into the small bonfire before taking out his notepad, scribbling something quickly, then wadding the paper up and throwing it in the other's direction.


you're not gonna turn me in or anything are you???


Last edited by Kiev on Tue Aug 21, 2012 7:15 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Fye on Tue Aug 21, 2012 7:13 pm

Being fireproof had led Fye, over the years, to becoming relatively unconcerned about little things like... bonfires. Or house fires. Or arson. So the blaze that his target had started didn't worry him overmuch--the floor was packed dirt, loose enough in some places to kick, and if it got too large, he could just wade in and spread out whatever was on fire, smothering it somewhere else.

Apparently though, the kid had other ideas; there was some clattering and clanking, and Fye looked up from his rudimentary first-aid check of his target (just making sure he didn't have anything much worse than a concussion and a few broken ribs from when he'd landed on him... Fye wasn't that heavyset, but being six foot and a half didn't make him light either... ) to lock eyes with the kid from earlier.

Well. If he hadn't known he was a Harbinger from his little stunt earlier, he did now. The blond stayed perfectly still, watching him watch him, until the kid scrabbled out a notepad and pencil from somewhere, scribbling something down on the paper, tearing it out, and lobbing it in his direction.

Fye caught it, snapping it out the air with a hand, unwadding it up and reading the words inside, one eyebrow rising before he looked back up at the kid.
"No. You okay?"


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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Kiev on Wed Aug 22, 2012 3:46 pm

Oh. That was a bit of a relief. At the very least he was going to get off free, though it did cost him a little... well. Maybe he didn't need to do that thing if he knew that this man wasn't gonna hurt him or anything. Though he liked to make sure just in case. But. Still. Just. It was frustrating at times, these random occurances, especially for a kid that pretty much just wanted to live the rest of his life quietly without hurting anyone or getting hurt or being in emotionally straining situations because let's face it; Kiev sucked at dealing with feelings. What are feelings, even?

Kiev, growing slightly annoyed with himself, shoved a mound of rubbish into the flame, wincing as a stray ember hit his hand. Nothing serious, but it hurt, and he drew back shortly. Nevermind. The junkyard could burn; fuck you too.

Still he felt a twinge of guilt. What if.. there were animals living here?
Hnnnnn.

He looked over to the man once he heard a reply, then he gave a small nod. Yeah, he was okay. A little shaken and oops no shirt but that was something he could deal with-- though the thought that he was partially exposed caused the brunette to shudder a little. It wasn't fair. Why did he have this stupid ugly black-grey looking shit growing on him.

Kiev grumbled and kicked a nearby tire repeatedly. He hoped the guy didn't see the marks.

Then, another note in his direction:

what're you gonna do with that flamey guy?

This was all really foreign and sort of suuuper weird. Guy comes out of no where and barges in on Kiev's privacy and then another guy and then fireballs then the guy jumps him and breaks a few of his bones and now what. This was more action than he usually got in a week.

who are you anyway and why's this guy weird.
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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Fye on Wed Aug 22, 2012 7:02 pm

Fye watched the kid curiously, standing cautiously to the side. He would have started lugging his target out to his car for transport to a police station to collect his bounty already in any other situation, but the addition of this kid made things a little more complicated. He shifted his weight as said kid shifted some rubbish onto the fire, trying to smother it (he'd have helped, but he had the feeling that if he'd gone any closer, he would have spooked and run) (did he live here? He seemed a bit too young to be out on his own. It was schooltime for kids his age at the moment. Maybe a runaway? Was this place his home...?), and then caught the second piece of paper the same way he had the first, snapped out of his thoughts.

"Turn him in. He's a gang member. Has a price on his head."

The third piece of paper earned a snort of amusement from the blond. "Fye Kingston. This one--" He indicated his unconscious target with a nudge of his foot. "Is a Harbinger. Like you. Like me."


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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Kiev on Sat Aug 25, 2012 3:16 pm

Harbinger. Now that was a word that Kiev wished he didn't know, a word that he had heard so many times in the darker regions of the city, a word so often dipped in such a tone that Kiev felt nauseated every time he heard it all hushed in the crowds. So it was true, that they said. That there were more and that they were everywhere. Kiev himself never doubted the fact but he never truly understood what the phrase meant--

But now he did, didn't he?

The man who called himself Fye didn't seem all that worried about the fire, though it gradually shrunk with Kiev's prodding. He regarded the man with suspicion for a while, but then his eyes softened after hearing his words. 

He abandoned the fire to draw a little closer, a bit curious but still cautious, and he sized the male up. Tall. Looked formidable-- dependable even.  Seemed to have a weariness about him. Really tall. A bit scary. But not too scary. 

"You're a freak too?"

The brunette's voice came timid and rough, like a disused instrument-- still youthful but not young per se. He rarely spoke, but when he did, it meant something. And in this case... 

He never really talked to anyone about /that/ before. 

Kiev's eyes fell to the ground as he idly kicked away a beer bottle. 

Then, back to note taking:
i know that they exist but. i don't know a lot of people anyway.

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Re: hunting (fye _ kiev)

Post by Fye on Tue Aug 28, 2012 4:54 pm

"You're a freak too?"

In response, Fye raised a finger to tap below his eye, indicating its cat-slit, unnaturally brilliant color. "Got the eyes." He caught the next note sent his way, uncrumpling it and laughing inside at the switch back of communication methods--guess the kid didn't like to talk. Couldn't really blame him. "We're not too common." One of the few facts from biology he'd retained: Harbingers like him, the man underneath his foot, and the kid in front of him were as easy-to-find as needles in a haystack. One in hundreds. Different, and sometimes despised for it.

He'd known that last without needing to consult a textbook. It was the reason his bakery had bulletproof windows and why he kept a sword underneath the shop counter along with the boxes and plates.

Idly, he turned his head, taking in his surroundings with his last statement in mind, one eyebrow rising.
"You live here?" Hopefully not. But it was hard to tell with kids these days, especially in this district. If he'd run away, or was living on his own, or was just escaping from a home that didn't want a freak child. Best to not assume anything for the moment.


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