undergrounds | [closed] vampire bounty-hunting: what not to do

The previous night, Clint had been minding his own business in a bar in Hillingdon district, when he'd started to hear rumours about a bounty being offered for a rogue vampire running around in the Institute's territory. He'd packed up to go investigate almost immediately, because that is a hunt right up his alley. But despite combing the streets till nearly sunup, he hadn't been able to track the damn thing.

It's approaching sundown, now, and he's got his bow and quiver packed up in an unassuming black case which is slung over his back. Kind of hard to carry them openly, in the middle of the city, so he has to at least pretend to be discreet about it.

On his way out of Hillingdon House, he spots Will, and hey, that guy has a car. Will had seemed competent enough the last time Clint had run into him, even if he'd tried to leave a dead werewolf in a dumpster. Not everybody is perfect.

"Hey, you busy tonight?" he asks, approaching the other hunter. "Heard there's a rogue newborn over in Ealing. Tried to track it last night, but couldn't find it."

[closed to Will, Cooper, and Ringer]

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This is why he doesn't stay at Hillingdon more than necessary. It was just a night off, come here to flip through the records, write down observations before the details are forgotten. Minding his own business on the porch writing and next, like always, there's one of those irritating pissants trying to-

Oh. It's Barton.

The frostbitten glare falls back to listless apathy the second the face registers, paused just before the instinctive 'no' comes out. Half of these people are insane and solo work is easier, so shoving them off verbally is easy. Reassessment, Barton is competent. Long-range specialist, no conflicts in theory. Additionally, Barton is not stupid.

"It's my car, isn't it," and it's not a question. Though it's meant in jest, as the pen is set down without a second thought. The attention is gained Barton; try to keep it. "Any other details? Even insignificant ones."

"What? No," he responds, maybe too quickly. There's half a grin on his face as he tries not to look too guilty and he concedes, "Not entirely. I really could use another set of eyes."

He leans against the banister opposite Will with his arms crossed over his chest. "Bounty's two hundred. This thing's killed twice already, last night. You'd think a newborn careless enough to be dropping bodies like that would leave a trail, right?" That's the weirdest part, for Clint. Newborns tend to be more careless, running on hunger and instinct. This one seems to be smarter about hiding its tracks. He doesn't like it.

There's the faintest of smiles at the initial response - yeah, real convincing - but it fades off for the explanation. The duration is spent staring over Clint's shoulder, spinning the pen idly and filing everything down in silence. Small gears in an ever-efficient machine turn, one after the next, two hundred for a new vampire is off. Two people in one night evens out the price, but that alone is strange. Combine with leaving no trail and having years of experience investigating monsters and it all spreads out like code on a screen.

"Two reasonable assumptions. The first is it's someone who changed willingly. The other is your target's got a babysitter. Either way, there's more than two deaths."

And that latter is A Problem. Impressive Clint may be, even Will can admit it's a hard time with vampires past a few centuries. A normal human going alone is much riskier. Especially if a long-ranged specialist goes in expecting a single target when there's a more experienced one running about out of sight.

It's probably a good thing he failed to find his target yesterday. One less avoidable death from abomination. "Sure. I'm in. Any specific area of Ealing or is it hopping territory lines?"

He nods in agreement. "It makes sense, that there's somebody trying to clean up after it. Not doing the best job, though, if there were bodies left to find at all." A babysitter would complicate things, but then when Clint hadn't been able to find the vampire last night, he'd figured there might be something more going on with the case.

"The victims were found on opposite ends of the borough, but I haven't heard anything else as far as location or sightings. Hopefully it hasn't gone far, but who know even knows where it holed up for the day and if it's gonna stick around." It'd be easier if there was more to go on, yeah, but they'll presumably just have to scout the area and see if any new clues pop up come sundown.

Data registered, filed, reconfigure. The two bodies only means the babysitter didn't have the time to clean the scenes properly. Babysitter in a rush, then? Or some kind of distraction that spurned him into escaping - doubtful, especially since it was obviously wasn't a hunter that did it.

So, assuming the logic is sound, the other applicable option is the only one left: the Babysitter got a lead.

"Which ends of the borough did they appear, and in which order," said in tandem with shutting the folder he's working through and beelining for the Volkswagen. His possessions are in the trunk and even if the target's not in a blood frenzy, tracking it more accurately won't be that difficult. If they get close enough. "Might be gunning for the nest. If we can't find 'em tonight, you might be out of luck."

Falling into step beside Will, he follows toward the car. At the mention of the nest, he rolls his eyes and makes a disgusted sound. Things were so much less complicated back home, without all of the goddamned rules and vampire-coddling. When a human life was taken, you retaliated. End of story.

"You're probably right. It was headed west-to-east. Right toward the open arms of its blood-sucking friends." He tosses his gear into the back seat of Will's car. "Whaddayou think? Try to head it off, or track it down and chase?"

Ringer had briefly encountered the newborn only to have him escape again. True to her word, she had left the thing alone until it killed again. Now, it was too great a risk to too many people to be left to frolic without a higher vampire looking over it. Either Cooper failed or he lied and either one meant he'd failed to hold up his end of the bargain.

The girl had a small crossbow strapped to her hip and her Sig Sauer in its usual shoulder holster beneath her jacket. The crossbow was remarkably uncomfortable, but wood bullets were a sham as far as Ringer was concerned and long distance bolts were a lot easier than trying to stake the damn thing. Though she had one of those tucked into her boot too, just in case.

She rounded a corner and nearly bumped into a man headed the same direction. He looked put together enough that she was momentarily distracted by whether he might be another hunter, one of them, or an innocent human. "You shouldn't go this way. There's a criminal on the loose."

It was the best she could do without notice, hoping it might justify the crossbow.

[closed] vampire bounty-hunting: what not to do

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