Who's The Killer In The Crowd? (Hunter!)

[MICHAELA GRAVES]

When one was Maleficent, one found that is was nigh impossible to sleep. Every night, she lay in her inordinately expensive bed, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. This would not do. If everything continued at this rate, her nightly bloodlust would carry into her days. But there was nothing for it. She stood, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight filtering through her floor to ceiling window. A loud sigh escaped her lips, as she tugged on the first clothes her hands touched. It was kind of teeney bopper, kind of Hot Topic. But it would do. She adjusted the top of the stockings so they were even, and then slid her feet into a pair of boots, making sure to grab her favorite knife on her way out.

It hadn't been that long, but there was a darkness in her that needed the blood. Needed to claim another life. She would watch the evening news of course, see if anyone was catching on, and some nights, there would be a death she wasn't responsible for. And for whatever reason, there was an inexplicable pang of jealousy that hers was not the last face they saw. Of course, she was glad that she didn't seem to be the only other serial killer out there. It was easier to cover her tracks that way. But still. Those lives were hers to steal.

The night was unseasonably cold, but that was a roulette wheel that Michaela had been spinning since she was a child. New York couldn't seem to make it's mind up about the seasons. The skin exposed due to her zettai ryouiki was freezing, but the rest of her body was heated from the sheer murderous anticipation nestling in her human bones. She finally quit lying to herself about the purpose of her walk. At the beginning of it, she was trying to tell herself that she was going to walk herself out of her need, but no. She was scouring the sidewalks for her next victim. She stalked into Central Park, heading for the woods.

About a hundred yards in front of her was a midnight jogger, making his runs through the park. She concentrated. He wasn't a reincarnate. Good. With a random victim like this, she could delve into his personal history. His past, his background. His name. She had tried with reincarnates, but everything got fuzzy and difficult. The histories would bleed together. But no, not this one. She looked at this man, this adulterous father of two, who was simply jogging so he could air himself out from the scent of sex before he returned home to his wife. She smirked, and followed him silently.

He sidetracked to the woods, and Michaela almost laughed. It was like he wanted to die! Hmm. How to get him off the beaten path? She darted out of the woods, and ran past him in a blur. Just as quickly, she ran back into the woods, far away from the trail, but not so far that she would go unnoticed. She screamed, making her voice small and weak. "Help! Oh God, I'm bleeding!" She heard him stop, and made anguished noises. He walked towards her, off the safety of the path, and she could see his fantasies. He'd expect to be repaid for his chivalry. A smile crossed her face as she thought of all the ways she thought to pay him back for his kindness.

When he was close enough, she grabbed her knife by the blade, hurling the handle into the side of his temple. Not enough to kill him, but enough to knock him out for a moment. She dragged him to a clearing, the moonlight filtering down on her like she was some sort of pagan offering a sacrifice to a God. But, Michaela was her own God. She was so entranced by her find, that she didn't realize that she was being watched until it was too late. She hissed wordlessly, spinning around, and drawing her blade up to a protective stance, willing to kill the foolish human who had crossed her path.


ooc: She sounds like a Meyerpire in this post. -rolls eyes-

EDIT// I worked so hard on this outfit, and I didn't even post it. www.polyvore.com/american_psycho/set?id=35636042

[HUNTER KNOX]

Hunter liked to think that he was a benevolent force of nature. He was like a God with the way he could deal out pure happiness and joy. He didn't even ask much from these petty little mortals but money. For someone who had a supernatural air of superiority about him, in more ways than one, he thought that it was hardly too much to ask in return. Those crackwhores and junkies who came to him begging for just a taste of the excitement and wonder that he had for sale were his willing customers. he was more than happy to dish out the product if people had the cash in return.

It was for that reason that he was rather unhappy situations like this had to happen in the first place. When someone decided to fly off credit and "IOU's" and "Hey man, I'll pay you back next week"'s, Hunter could give them a certain grace period. He was a nice guy, after all! He wasn't one to rush in and off someone who could potentially bring him a bit more business in the future. There alays did come a point, however, when hunter simply had to step back and way the cost effectiveness of a situation. At one point in time there was simply one IOU too many, or one little under the table bag'o'crack over the line. There came a point where stabbing the guy and looting him for whatever he had on his body became more realistic and productive than waiting around for payment that would never come.

This idiot had unfortunately pushed Hunter over the line. He had brought this upon himself. Hunter didn't know his name, nor did he want to. As always, his philosophy was that names made situations stickier and more unpleasant or all parties involved. he would much rather the anonymity while he wrenched his knife from someone's back after a long process of watching their habits and hangouts.

Here, in the dead of night, Hunter figured he wold be able to off the guy without too much interference. he doubted there would be many other people wandering the woods this late at night, and he couldn't help it if his little debting druggie was too fucking stupid for his own good and decided that jogging through the woods was a clever idea. Oh well, the housewives of the city would have something to shake at their children and worry themselves silly over safety about after Hunter had his way with this guy. If he was lucky he would get at least a decent write up about the event.

Lying in wait, Hunter knew that at any minute the guy would round the corner and then he cold jump out and have the blood flowing before the fucking little weasel even had time to sputter out one last "Wait! I swear I'll pay!" He could be over and done with the entire nasty deed before midnight and get back to the boat and tempy and - "Help! Oh God, I'm bleeding!"

What? The fuck was going on? Was someone else

[/s] cutting people to shreds in the woods that night? Jesus fucking Christ! This was ruining everything! That little fucking bitch with her crying and shouting was going to ruin Hunter's plan. Not only ruin that evening, ruin any CHANCE of him nabbing this fucker in the future! He would probably get scared off from the nightly jogging route. Jesus Christ, this was not gonna fly. Now he'd have to check it out to make sre he rectified the situation, and if that meant killing some little bitch that couldn't keep her apparently bloody mouth shut then so be it.

Trudging through the woods, he took out his long fishing knife. It was perfectly useful for all murderous occasions, and Hunter knew that it would be just perfect for slicing this little whore's throat. Honestly, what the fuck was going on? He was going to have to -

His train of thought was interrupted when he stumbled upon something that appeared to be at once both horrifying and annoying. Some hoebag was standing over his weasel! Perplexed and more than a bit offended that she was going to beat him to the chase, he merely stared at her, knife in hand and jaw dropped. "Excuse me.... just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" There was no trace of fear or shock in his voice. It was pure indignation at having to reclaim his victim from this bitch.

notes//I LOVE THIS THREAD SO MUCH[/justify]

[MICHAELA GRAVES]

"Excuse me.... just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Her dark eyes narrowed, and she straightened up. It was a reincarnate, a villain. A pirate. Oh! Michaela's lips curved into a sinister smile. "Hello Captain." She sheathed her knife and stayed at a safe distance. He was clearly unhappy about the scene displayed before him. This was his kill. The pieces fell together in her head, and a look of understanding crossed her features. "So. You're my competition? You're the one who's been perpetuating the grisly murders of New York? Then again, there have been too many recently for it to be the work of just us. The police are baffled." She laughed humorlessly. She should have known. She wasn't the only villain out there, and she wasn't the only bloodthirsty villain from a story.

The man behind her groaned, and she shot one boot back behind her to kick him in the head, bringing him back to unconsciousness. "I'm Michaela. I'm also curious. I know who you are, but can you tell who I am?"[/b] Of course, Hook was aware of himself, but some reincarnates could be aware of themselves, but nobody else. Michaela was lucky in that respect.

She was of course, surprised once again by her luck. Since becoming aware of what happened when she was just a child, she had read up on any and all faerie tales, not too suspicious, just annoying for her. She knew that the others had arrived, and she started cultivating a plan. She knew which villains she wanted to meet, and which she wasn't too thrilled about. The Queen of Hearts, The Sea Witch, and Captain Hook were all villains she was just dying to meet. Other villains, not so much. Gaston? Poofter. A vain, shallow prick who gets all butthurt because he's not getting any from one girl? No thanks. She looked forward to the challenge of getting to know this man.

She gingerly stepped forward, aware of the lethal blade in his hand. "Now, we're both adults. We should be able to handle this as such. I got him here, I knocked him out, I did all the work. By all rights, he should be mine. Can you give me a good reason why I should give him to you?"[/b] Of course, they could always share him, but Michaela never really got the point of the whole 'sharing is caring' lesson. She studied him carefully in the glowing light of the moon. He was handsome, but that wasn't hard to find in New York. He had the scruffy look of a man who travelled. Like he didn't stay in one place too long. His clothes were worn, but expensive. Drug Dealer? Judging by the fact that he had no qualms killing a man, that was the most obvious answer. She crossed her arms, awaiting a response.

[HUNTER KNOX]

Hunter eyed his man unconscious on the ground. So far it seemed that he was still utterly alive. Luckily, Hunter seemed to have broken in just before this little bitch could get to any of the good stuff. He couldn't believe that destiny had decided to let Hunter have such good timing that night. He couldn't bear the thought of what would happen if he lost his one good kill for the night to some scantily dressed little whore. Since when were whores murderous, anyway? What kind of self-respecting pimp let his girls out for a little late night homicide while they were supposed to be working? It just seemed like a waste of income to Hunter.

"Hello Captain. So. You're my competition? You're the one who's been perpetuating the grisly murders of New York? Then again, there have been too many recently for it to be the work of just us. The police are baffled."

Hunter was slightly taken aback at the greeting she'd chosen, but not immediately suspicious that she knew more than she ought to. Captain was after all the name that he gave out to any who were interested in getting a little product from him. He supposed that she could have heard of him from... somewhere. It was a possibility. How on earth she connected the dots between drug dealer and repeat offender murderer had yet to be figured out, but he refused to jump to conclusions about this little slut. He had yet to meet any other storybook characters and for all he knew tonight wouldn't change that.

"Stop it, you're going to make me blush," he replied stonily, furthering the banter. "But you know, it's not often that all my work gets recognized. I have to admit it's a refreshing change of pace." Smiling at the sweet little prostitute, he took a few steps closer, still brandishing his knife in full view of his new found companion. Upon witnessing her brutal kick delivered to his target's head however, he stopped his advance and nodded approvingly, accepting at this point the fact that he truly was in the company of a professional. This little whore hadn't picked up murder as a hobby too recently.

"I'm Michaela. I'm also curious. I know who you are, but can you tell who I am?"

Here again came a tricky little question. Why did she have to talk in such awkward double entendres? He could hardly start talking about magical fairytale characters if it turned out this girl was none of the above. For now he would assume that she was pathetically human until proven otherwise.

"I'll take a wild guess? Are you a customer of mine? An ex call girl? You're not exactly giving me many hints." He raised an eyebrow at her as he shrugged, utterly oblivious to any answers she actually expected.

"Now, we're both adults. We should be able to handle this as such. I got him here, I knocked him out, I did all the work. By all rights, he should be mine. Can you give me a good reason why I should give him to you?"

"How about this as a reason," Hunter began, running his hand across his knife experimentally. "As far as I know, I'M the one he owes the debt to, unless you're the one awful prostitute who decided to let clients run on credit. It would kind of be sending the wrong message if I let him get killed by someone else while I was only there to witness it. Now, don't get me wrong here, I think it's great you did all this work, but if you don't mind, I'll take it from here, darling." He took another few steps closer as he spoke until he was an arm's length away from the diminutive homicidal hooker.