Chapter 316: Chapter 316 - Hunter to... Hunter(?)
I don’t understand why watching giant men run into each other while fighting for a ball that is not even round is interesting. Nor do I think staring at it for another eight minutes will give me the answer.
> Time to ask questions, then. <
"You look and sound like you know your way around the city. Any areas I should avoid?"
Rick chuckled and took a swig of his beer. He’d watched me chomp through ten wings and drink a glass of water while the other patrons cheered and booed at different ’plays’ on the screen.
"Depends what kind of trouble you’re looking to avoid. Lot of us are around here in Silverton. Though we’ve been seeing more... transients lately."
"You mean rogues?"
Looking around us before tapping his nose, he continued with a lower voice.
"Public safety is still solid. I’m sort of a liaison between the different... communities. Making sure everyone plays nice."
His eyes studied my face carefully and for a bit I started to worry that the description and possibly picture of me had circulated far enough to be recognized. But his next statements made me think I was safe.
"You said you were new here. Frequency Emitters are fine, but should probably hide your other weapon a little better."
Pretending to be one of them... is dangerous, but also potentially valuable. I took another bite of wing meat to buy myself thinking time - because barking back that his isn’t *really* hidden any better and explaining that I can smell the silver is not the right reaction.
"I guess it’s different than working rural scenes. I’ll try to learn the rules so I don’t step on any toes."
"Most newcomers don’t bother. Not until the cops hassle them about it."
> Right, regular humans probably fear people stabbing each other. I did take the belt off before I got out and stuffed the knife and sheath in the largest hiking pant pocket, but I guess that’s not going to cut it. <
Being quiet again for a while to see if he chooses to say more, I finish the twenty-first wing and second glass of water. The honey garlic ones are tastier than I expected. Sweet and spicy, but in a unique way.
"Between you and me, the past few months had more people moving through the area on either side who don’t seem interested in following any customs."
"So rule breakers. But not criminal ones?"
"Lack of respect. When you’re a guest in someone else’s neighborhood, you’re expected not to have little turf wars with each other like it’s free territory."
Working my way through the wings at a steady pace, each piece felt necessary. My body demanding the protein and fat my stomach was sorting out.
After the stress and exertion of recent days... including the modeling itself - it was a good meal. But I stopped when I started getting a doubtful look. Somewhere near thirty. I guess I’ll take the rest for later.
"Sounds like you’ve got your hands full around here."
"More than usual, yeah. Used to be we’d see maybe a handful of problems per month. Now it’s twice or more a week."
"Doesn’t seem so bad on the network posts."
Then again, I have no idea if there are private sections that only higher ranking members of the organization can see. In which case I may never be able to gather anything pertinent.
"A lot of it hasn’t escalated to that point. But folks are acting more like the rules don’t apply to them. Like they have some kind of backing that is building up to something."
"...Building up to what?"
This was the sort of thing I needed to know... and I couldn’t help but let my genuine concern and interest through. However, the flow of conversation allowed it. Any hunter should be taking something like this seriously, too.
"Hard to say. My gut says something’s organizing them. Too many people with the same... aggressive and disruptive mindset showing up in too short a timeframe."
"Any idea where they’re coming from?"
"That’s the thing - all over. Different regions, different backgrounds. Only common thread seems to be they were all looking for work under employers that didn’t ask questions about their reasons for not being in their old... community."
> I suppose that’s one word for pack. <
Wiping my fingers on a napkin while I work through what he suggests, I signal the server so I can request a ’to-go’ container. After I put it all up and request the check, I cross my arms while looking around for the bathroom sign.
> Yes, if I can’t lick my hands clean in public then I might as well go wash them off. I’ll probably order takeout from here next time. <
"You know, you’re really something. Cool as a cucumber. Never seen a damn thing like it."
Letting my gaze wander back, I see that fairly friendly gaze he wore before has hardened. Which makes sense. He always did feel like he was trying too hard to be friendly with me.
His hand was on the empty pitcher handle. He’d consumed most of it already, except what he’d just poured into his glass.
"Why thank you."
> As a human, he can’t have smelled the silver. So unlike for werewolves, that bit of camouflage is less effective. He would have noticed the phone primarily for a reason to talk to me. <
Running my fingers through my hair, put up in their twintails, I nod at the likelihood of my favorite style being the reason why I was ’caught’. But still... he chose to interact with me despite all that. To tell me all this.
"Doesn’t seem like this talk would be out of the kindness of your heart. So I’m going to make a few assumptions. You either already know well enough who *my* current backer is and she ordered you to do this."
"Nope."
"Then you think I’m involved or behind these rogues. Even though I’m the one who has been attacked twice."
Raising his free hand, it wobbles side to side. Which I believe means ’sorta’? I raise my chin and sneer.
"Amusing. You think I’ve been performing to gain sympathy. Well, I appreciate the advance warning regarding how others are likely to be viewing all of this. Was there anything further that you’d like to say or do at this time, Mr. Richard?"
Getting slowly to my feet and pushing in the chair, my hand moves toward my food container while his moves toward his hidden weapon. But I can’t blame him, as I can see in the glass on the table that my eyes have been quite blue for a little while now.
It would be rather funny if after all this time, after trying to lure werewolves into dead-end alleys and getting interrupted... that my first real fight would be with a hunter. Does that not just sound quite cliché?
My phone buzzed in my pocket, somewhat interrupting the tension. Without breaking eye contact with the hunter, I showed my palm and reached for it.
"Excuse me, but I’d like to take a look at this. If you could do your best not to stab me in the meantime?"
"...It’s a public place. I won’t do anything if you don’t."
Nodding, I swipe down and find that it was a message... from [Flickering Candlelight]. Opening quickly in case of an emergency, I see that it is just a black rectangle with that triangular symbol for ’play’ on it.
And over the next week, I would regret ever letting my curiosity tap it in such a *public* location.