Angel of the Night {Vergil}

[HUNTER KNOX]

It had been yet another productive day of drug dealing. Hell, when WASN'T it a productive day for drug dealing? Hunter was merely providing a service that nearly everyone wanted to take advantage of sometimes. It was a career choice that would never go away. No matter where one was in the world there would always be those grubby little excuses for people who felt eh burning desire for chemicals rushing through their blood streams, and Hunter was only too happy to oblige them. Well, not really Hunter anymore. Hunter mostly sat in the background during those transactions, doing whatever it is the mopey kid with the emotional stability of a high schooler did when trapped inside his own mind.

Now though, it was another day over and done with. Another day filled with customers and people pushing and shoving to get their product put behind him. There had been the college kid who'd needed his dose of crack just to get by, and the struggling single mom who figured that some weed would help her with the stress. And then of course, that young, talented businessman who found that he needed something to take the edge off after a long day of work. Hunter found that it was relatively easy to find places to deal from. He was new to the area, and as such he felt free to go wherever the hell he wanted. The mall? Done. The back alleys without light to show anyone's faces? Been there. Hunter was a free spirit in this new city of drugs and crime. He went where the wind carried him.

Stomping down onto the wooden docks, he was ready to turn in. He had to admit, he was still getting used to this. He had never had somewhere permanent to turn in to at the end of the day in other cities. This boat of his young lady friend's certainly made life easier for him. He'd always known that scha rpestigious Captain as himself deserved a little more than the grime of life underneath bridges and in dark alleys where he used to sleep besides rats and the homeless. No, a boat was exactly what he'd always deserved. It's what he'd always needed.

For a moment he paused... had he seen something out of the corner of his eye? Was there someone else down on the docks with him? At this hour? He crsed himself for having only a knife buried somewhere in his bag. A knife would do hardly anything against the guns owned by the hooligans around here. He could only hope his reputation alone would be enough to keep him from being attacked.

notes: Bwah, Hunter is a baby.

[longjohn]

Vergil had a problem.

For the past few years, it had been painfully obvious to everyone around these parts that Archangel was not to be tested. You didn't step on his toes, or he would take you down. After the first few months, having taken down several local drug traffickers almost singlehandedly, the other crime lords had come to respect (and avoid) Vergil. They knew better than to get in his way by now.

But apparently, there was some new fucker around here who clearly didn't know what the hell he was dealing with. And Vergil was here to fix that. The last thing he needed was some upstart asshole getting in the way of his business and wasting his time.

Hunter Knox. That was the name he'd pulled out of the mire. That was who he was targeting tonight. That was the boy who needed to learn his place.

Vergil had waited patiently, oh, so patiently for Hunter to return. He'd followed him for the last block or so, and he was fairly certain he hadn't been seen...yet. Even if he was, he was well-prepared; just at that moment, he had on his person a switchblade, two knives, and one Glock 23 semi-automatic safe action pistol. He was clever with guns, but handiest with knives. As he was still standing, one could assume he'd never lost a knife fight.

And he'd been in plenty.

Tossing his hair out of his eyes with a little jerk of his head, he let Long John's presence seep farther into his own. The old pirate gave him courage, and additional strength that he might have lacked on his own. Unlike Hunter and Hook, Vergil and Long John Silver were partners, friends, allies. Perhaps it was because Vergil's mind was too strong to be overthrown.

He stepped slightly out of the shadows as he saw an approaching figure, just enough for someone to detect that there was indeed another present. And indeed, the other man seemed to react.

A slow, dark smile spread across Vergil's face. Good. Good.

He limped forward, his dark clothing blending into the shadows and blue-blacks of the nighttime.

"Well, well, well." He stopped about ten feet from Hunter and inhaled deeply, letting the scent of the water wash over him. He had enough money for his own boat by now. He needed to get one. Vergil was feeling that emptiness in the pit of his stomach that meant he was missing the ocean.

"Whatever have we here?" He chuckled. "A charming young upstart wandering the docks in the dark of the night? That's a bit dangerous, don't you think?" There was an unusual rasp to his otherwise charming voice. Long John had that effect on him.

[HUNTER KNOX]

Great. This was just fucking fantastic. Didn't thieves and criminals have an goddamn respect anymore? Jess Christ, who the fuck did they think they were, sneakin' around on someone going out to his boat in the middle of the night. That was OBVIOUSLY another drug dealer. Someone who was lurking by the water at this hour surely had to have some level of protection or intimacy with the workings of the city's underworld, wouldn't he? Hunter swore, he had very low hopes for the future of the drug trade if there were idiots like this scurrying about trying to go after their own kind while there were rich ladies of society crossing the streets uptown with their nose in the air and eyes off their wallet. Jesus, in all seriousness, why the fuck was this idiot going after HIM when there were such easier targets elsewhere?

He supposed it was the fact that this seemed unnaturally stupid that started to freak him out the most. Of course, being the reincarnation of a fictional pirate who had dealt drugs and murdered and cleaned up the various spills of blood due to events of the second nature, Hunter shouldn't have been scared at all. One could objectively point out that he should have been desensitized to all emotions directly linked to fear. One could perhaps be quite confused by the fact that Hunter was feeling nervous and a bit twitchy about this whole scenario. One could also shut the fuck up, because until one has been on the receiving end of a rather threatening looking figure standing in the way of where one is going, one is physically incapable of relating to the situation and casting judgement on appropriate levels of fear.

Hunter tried to remain cool. This was nothing, he was sure. It would all go away after he questioned the logic of this whole facade and the dumbfuck realized what a perfectly retarded mistake he was making. Nothing was going to happen. Nothing COULD happen to him! He was goddamn Hunter Knox! Captain Hook! Who the fuck would dare mess with him?

The fact that the guy walked with a limp made Hunter even more confident as the man slumped out of the shadows. Alright. Guy with a fucked up leg. Hunter could sympathize. Hook hadn't been particularly dexterous with his right hand in his other life. Perhaps after this all cleared up they would have a laugh and a drink and talk about problems concerning mugging people. Criminals and vagrants did that, right?

"Well, well, well. Whatever have we here? A charming young upstart wandering the docks in the dark of the night? That's a bit dangerous, don't you think?"

Hunter was all too happy to chat it up with the guy. Perhaps if he got him talking they could work all this out and the entire awkwardness of the situation would go away. Besides ... there was something familiar about him that Hunter couldn't quite pinpoint. he wanted a bit more time to see if he could figure it out. "Oh, well, don't worry about me, buddy. I think I know the ropes around here," he replied with a laugh. "I'm not too worried about safety around here."