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Post by shraider on Oct 28, 2016 1:12:37 GMT -6
Leather boots hitting the pavement in loud echoing steps, Andrew Adams wasn't really making any effort to stay quiet. Despite telling himself he was searching for the now no doubt long gone queer and his demon, he was mostly just hitting the streets out of sheer anger. Logically, he should go back to his room to rest and recover considering his injuries and lack of sleep, but the loss at the battle in the bar was hitting him harder than normal. 'God's Word' was gone. The thought of his sacred weapon in the hands of that little bitch made him shudder, a disgusted sneer pulling at his mouth. It wasn't that the shot gun had been magically imbued in any way, but it was blessed and custom made....more importantly, it was HIS. Adjusting his hat once more, he pressed his left arm into his side. Now that it had been a few hours after the fight, his side and arm were aching considerably more. He probably had a few cracked ribs, not to mention the literal shades of black and blue his skin was turning, but it didn't seem to phase him. His jacket had protected him from the fatal damage of the guns blast, he could handle the rest. The angrily brisk walk throughout the city had taken him somewhere he hadn't seen before. It was a run down looking area, darkened by more than one broken streetlight. At the late hour of the night, the few shops in view were dark, the bars on their windows the only thing to view inside. The houses in the area were old, some with broken glass, others with boarded windows and graffiti. Setting his jaw, Adams continued his pace down the side walk, eyes as sharp as they could be considering his distracted thoughts. His quarry weren't anywhere to be found but at this point he'd literally kill anything he could get his hands on.  |
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Clyde
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Oct 28, 2016 23:38:04 GMT -6
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Post by Clyde on Oct 28, 2016 23:38:04 GMT -6
With a clatter of excitement Clyde stumbled out of the fire escape on an old rundown building, beer in hand. He'd just finished a successful show, and why wouldn't it be successful, perhaps he was biased, but their band was the best around these days and these parts. Not to mention the added aesthetic of their lovely venue. He drunkenley stumbled down the metal ladders until he was at a safe enough height to jump. After a brief attempt at swinging himself over the railing he realised the beer had to go, and after swigging the last gulp he took his leap of faith with a good solid whump. He was fortunate to have landed on an old mattress, but unfortunately said mattress seemed to have been claimed by a rather agitated raccoon. Initially he had wanted to wait in the alley for the rest of his mates, but decided against it, he wasn't about to pick a fight he couldn't win.
During his escape he managed to get lost in an area of town he knew quite well, the thing is he knew it a lot better when he was just a little more sober. The nights chill was waking him up though and he still couldn't figure out where he was. He knew for sure though he was hungry. Upon further inspection everything in range was closed, not a 24 hour food chain in sight. He sighed not really wanting to lose any of his hard earned cash just yet anyway.
He spotted a dimly flickering streetlight and just under it an extremely promising trash can. He stumbled towards it with the grace of a newborn fawn before throwing the lid off and shoving his torso in. He rooted around the can with fervor, desperate for pretty much anything at this point. With a triumphant bellow he found what seemed to be a burger with only a bite taken out, it contained onions even though the box said otherwise, mystery solved. He tried to slip out of the can without making too much noise but failed whilst smacking his head on the way out, loosing his balance and clatteirng to the ground. He scrambled back to his feet, sobered by the commotion. It was only then with a half eaten chicken wing stuck to his cheek did he notice he was not alone. It was his old friend from the graveyard.
The street went quiet once again filled with only the mechanical buzzing of the streetlight and it's flickering glow. He dared not even breathe.
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Post by shraider on Oct 29, 2016 0:40:24 GMT -6
 "Huh?" Adam's stopped dead in his track at the sudden clatter of sound across the street from him and at the end of an alley. The sheer bizareness of the scene actually halted his angry train of thought as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Was he....garbage picking? Senses snapping back to him, he turned entirely to face the other. Thumbs still hooked on his pockets, he raised and brow and spoke. "Someone put you in the trash, boy? Or did you do the world a favor and put yerself there?" Normally his reaction wouldn't have been to immediately antagonize the young man but he was still feeling exceptionally bitter about his lost gun and quarry. He remembered their previous meeting vividly and there was something itching inside him for a fight. |
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Clyde
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Posts: 14
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Post by Clyde on Oct 29, 2016 0:55:28 GMT -6
Hearing the man speak startled Clyde back to a functioning state. After flinging the chicken wing off of his face he snapped back,
"Oi ain't nobody puttin' me in the trash but me mate, nobody else gets the honor. 'Sides I got me a free meal," He took a bite of his prize, Wincing at the slight underlying taste of last weeks regrets. Although in his initial panic he didn't recognize the man, his memory was jogged by his terrible attitude on such a fine night, at least it was a fine night for him. He was feeling quite high and mighty, perhaps due to his "successful" music career or simply the last of his lingering drunkenness. No matter which is was, Clyde was certain he could knock the old bastard down this time.
He sauntered over towards the grizzled old man, just barely missing a wayward banana peel. He appeared calm on the outside, so he thought, suave even. But underneath that rouse was a nagging feeling that he should really be running.
"So what brings ya out to my stompin' grounds? If ya came to see the show I'm afraid you got 'ere a little late."
He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and worked on lighting it up, fumbling with the lighter in the dimly lit alley.
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Post by shraider on Oct 29, 2016 1:10:07 GMT -6
Despite the proximity and the drunken air the other was radiating, Adam's didn't back down. The scent of booze and garbage and general grime wasn't something the put him off. "Trust me, if I could've avoided witnessing 'this' show, I would've."
The hunter frowned, watching unimpressed as the kid took an embarrassingly long time to light a cigarette before finally succeeding. His initial burning itch for a fight dampened slightly at the slurred words and general disorderly demeanor. Even in his injured state he would send the kid to meet the devil in ten minutes flat or less.
But then again... "You should run along home boy, before I personally put you back in the trash."
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Clyde
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Post by Clyde on Oct 29, 2016 1:24:13 GMT -6
"Aw really you're gonna put me in the trash eh? How nice o' ya to bring me home, jus set me down easy by the beer cans that's where I like ta sleep." He tried to take a drag of his cigarette, barely succeeding as he was too busy snickering at his own joke, it didn't stray all that far from the truth. Once he'd calmed himself he turned his attention back to the man. Through a breath of smoke he resumed his line of questioning.
"Nah really if we're gonna keep meetin' like this, in my graveyard, in my part o' town, on my turf, you oughtta' start fessin' up. I got friends ya know, mean friends. Strong ones too."
Wandering over he gave the man a gentle punch in the arm, the last scrap of self preservation in his mind screamed at him not to but the movement was in motion and there was no point stopping it now.
"Y-You always tryna start fights man? Why can't ya just have a good time once in a while. I mean i love a good fight as much as the next asshole but come on."
He tried to grin but looking up at the dark clad man, his piercing eyes under his wide brimmed hat. Somehow he knew he'd probably just fucked up big time.
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Post by shraider on Oct 29, 2016 2:16:27 GMT -6
Catching the wrist of the hand that has just struck him in an iron grasp, the hunter squared his shoulders. Correcting his relaxed stance, he gained a few inches as he came to his full height. "You're not the first person to threaten me with claims on this town, you insignificant varmint. You say you got good, strong friends, well you ain't the only one, kid." That was actually true, but it wasn't like he'd need the rest of his order to beat down the local punk threat. A bunch of low society teenagers weren't even something he'd even waste time with, but this one in particular was seriously rubbing him the wrong way. He tipped his head back then, looking down his nose at Clyde.  The smile that spread across his face then was meant to be menacing but probably came across as unhinged. "Now take a good look at my face and tell me, is this the face of a man that's looking for a fight?" He paused, teeth bared in a grin. "If yer answer is yes, than you are absolutely correct. I'm always in to have a good time, but this really ain't the night you wanna be messin' with me." |
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Clyde
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Nov 11, 2016 21:28:28 GMT -6
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Post by Clyde on Nov 11, 2016 21:28:28 GMT -6
Clyde was silent, for once. Even if for just a moment he thought about this situation he'd managed to get himself into. He stared up at the unhinged grin of of the man who threatened him, he was firm, unmoving. His grin did not waver aside form the occasional eye twitch. Cautiously Clyde cracked a smile, ever so subtly. He began to chuckle nervously.
"you uh, you had yerself a rough day huh buddy. So how bout if I just... Ya know... Run. Away. Right now? Maybe you let me go and you take care of yerself! Have a drink. Have a nice night get some lady company, or gentleman hey I don't judge. Just treat yaself you know? "
He grinned up at his unwavering aggressor with hope, maybe he wouldn't come home and dissapoint his girlfriend tonight.
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Post by shraider on Nov 20, 2016 15:10:46 GMT -6
Unlike his previous fight with the young man, it seemed he was met mostly by fear and nervousness this time rather than arrogance and haughtiness. At least the kid had the good sense to learn from his mistakes. Sure, he could threaten all he wanted, but he still understood who was top dog.
In fact, the nervous chuckle and waver to the kid's voice actually caused some of the anger in the hunter to fade. He may be harsh and a tad unstable with his choices at the best of times, but he still had a moral compass. The kid wasn't even a demon, so he had no right to judge him as brutally as he would some hell spawn. It wouldn't look good in god's eyes.
At Clyde's mention of running away, Andrew's expression gained back a bit more sanity and for a moment, he actually appeared as if he would stand down.
That was until it was mentioned that he might enjoy the company of another man.
"God will forgive me." He growled, voice low and accent thicker than normal as he sent a right hook towards Clyde's face.
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