♤ One Night of the Hunter

[deal_me_in]

WHO: A Hunter and you
WHERE: Temba
WHAT: Cayde takes his profession to a different level
WHEN: During event
WARNINGS: It might get violent in here
NOTES: Will follow suit for pose prefs. Feel free to choose your location/hellscapes.


i. cover your eyes
Being alone tends to encourage the imagination. The ever shifting surroundings certainly don't help to dull the edge that has been present ever since that cryptic message and the sound that had shattered all sanity. Be it an expanse of stillness or a jarring enclosure, one might suddenly get the impression that they aren't alone, that there's someone watching, and it isn't just that horrible Eye hanging in the sky.

It soon proves not to be a matter of one's imagination on overdrive after all. There are tell-tale sounds, a snap of a twig, the scrape of metal against a wall, heavy footsteps crunching lightly in the grass, both distant and yet all too close for comfort. Calling out receives no response, only stillness that breaks as soon as one is on the move again.

You're being stalked, and eventually when you glance back, you may catch a glimpse of cold glowing eyes staring back at you.


ii. the devil's inside
His target has proven to be surprisingly tricky, or at least persistent. He'd let them have a lead, let them think they might get the slip on him. Sometimes it was a little fun to play with your food, so to speak.

"I know you're there~" Cayde calls out playfully, but there's a dark edge to his taunting tone. It had been fun for a while, but now is the time to close in.

Perhaps thankfully his movements are limited to the physical obstacles, no sudden appearances through solid objects- but it doesn't stop him from picking up speed and cutting corners, darting forth from a blind angle. He's still got an obvious advantage to anyone of flesh and blood. He doesn't need to rest, but he feels a fierce need to feed.

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[deal_me_in]

Just try it. The words were rasped out, more of a suggestion than properly formed. He threw himself into a frenzied spin with his next attempt to try snapping at Tony, rewarded only with the dropping temperature and the accompanying quiet. He heard the man pick up speed once he was away from the door, neck craning in its direction as if to soak up as much of that sound as he could. It began to fade all too quickly. He wouldn't be able to catch Tony like this.

The chill tempered his anger brought on by frustration, enough for him to regain his senses as he studied the chains. He wasn't sure that shifting back to a body more familiar was going to help matters, but it appeared he had no say in that matter as his blood lust was for the moment, quelled. His arms had more range at least, and the chains yielded easily as he tore himself free, dropping unceremoniously to the cold floor. He took a moment despite knowing the longer he waited, the more distance his prey would gain from him. Yet he grinned.

"...guess I shouldn't be surprised you like playing hard to get," he said, despite having only an audience of putrefying bodies. He swung the door nearly off its hinges, taking off in belated pursuit.

[in_extremis]

The longer Cayde took, the more frustrated Tony grew with the increasingly louder demand for that fear that Cayde was refusing to feed him. He wasn't dreading the pain Tony had promised, he wasn't afraid of springing another trap, and he hardly seemed anxious that Tony would really hurt him. It did give Tony arduously long minutes to prepare, then go slipping back down the hall carefully toward where he had left Cayde, knowing intimately now that he could be baited much like Jon could.

With his back up against a stained wall, he slowly leaned over to try to peek through the fog of another plastic sheet to spy Cayde's approach, digging his nails into his own palms to set his heart beating again and muttering, "He's close, he'll see you..." to himself to use his own anxiety to provoke a hunter.

[deal_me_in]

It was difficult to dread what he didn't think possible. When you knew you could blaze with the intensity of solar flames, fire just didn't seem very fear-inspiring. And yet there was maybe that nagging curiosity to see what exactly Tony could- ahem, cook up.

The wait was a tactic in itself, drawn out on purpose. Cayde had no idea that that it was turn for his prey to feel more frustrated than fearful. He caught that sense of anxiety like a wolf the whiff of a creature's scent. The scrape of his knife against a metal railing echoed eerily through the slaughterhouse, an undeniable anomaly that rang above the sounds that they'd otherwise grown accustomed to within the nightmarish space.

He was coming.

[in_extremis]

The shriek of the metal made Tony's gut clench and he jumped back enough to press his shoulders to the wall again where it began to softly steam, the panicked fluttering of his heart stoking its fire higher and wicking away his own cold sweat and the condensation slipping down the slaughterhouse tiles. With his eyes squeezed closed, Tony took a steadying breath to calm himself enough and listen again, waiting for the stalking stomp of Cayde's boots close enough that he could hear Tony's sprinting, and the flutter of the plastic sheet leading them back into the bleeding area where the waiting lines wound in oppressive complacency, barely flinching as the next wet splatter hit the ground.

By the time the hunter caught up, the line was scattered and disoriented, looking more like a crowd in mourning milling around the open wound in the abattoir floor where the blood drained, the body that had been at the front of the line still slumped over the edge of the platform and dripping onto one of the plastic tarps that the meat was wrapped in thrown haphazardly over the drain. Tony stood on the opposite side, watching the door like he expected Cayde, in his feral tunnel vision, to not notice there was a hole between them, still breathing quickly but shoulders squared and holding the glownie that had presided over the meat line by the ears, one foot pressed into his back and his still slick knife in the other hand. Maybe this trap would finally make Cayde wary. Maybe he wouldn't even notice the new tripwire set for him before he had to find out what was down the hole.

[deal_me_in]

He hastened once he heard Tony's fleeting footsteps, but after blundering twice into a trap, Cayde allowed for a little more caution. And there was no doubt in his mind that Tony probably had more traps up his sleeve. The slaughterhouse had an abundance of tools and advantages at his disposal, but they could just as well be the Hunter's own.

His own heavy steps suddenly tapered off into silence. Hunting wasn't only the chase, and indeed some of the thrill came from leaving your prey to guess at just how close behind you were. When he finally did step past the dingy, stained plastic that hunt across the doorway his movements were slow, deliberate. He flicked a look around the room and its mindless occupants, but there was no interest to be found in those who had already accepted their fate. The scent of blood itself was both maddening and suffocating, swallowing itself in its own over-fulfilled promises. Tony was spotted easily enough, Cayde lifting his head slightly almost in question as he saw the man's position taken. If one didn't know better, they might think it a poor attempt of a hostage situation. He shook his head, almost in disappointment. Clearly Tony needed motivation.

His hand dropped to the holster at his side, his gun removed and fired in the same motion without him having to raise it any further than his hip. The single shot zipped perhaps impossibly through a narrow window between the haphazard scatter of fleshy obstacles. There was an spray of fresh blood but it wasn't from Tony, however undoubtedly close for comfort, but it wasn't like he had any particular ties to the glownie he held.