Natural-Born Killers

[Captain]

Welcome to your nightmares.

The shadows that lurk under your bed, the twisted demons hiding behind your reflection in every mirror, the monsters that hide in the dark, and every fantasy you've ever had twisted beyond recognition.

Welcome to NYC.

There's a boggart in Central Park. He doesn't steal socks and rearrange your items. He jumps joggers and absorbs them to collect their baubels and has several thousand dollars' worth of collections.

There's a troll under the Brooklyn Bridge. He doesn't demand toll and he doesn't eat goats, but he will eat anyone foolish enough to cross him and use their limbs as added extensions in a grotesque corpse displayal.

Werewolves? They're the local mafia, though nobody knows it. Vampires? They're just people infected with a virus that takes down their body's iron content and gives a intense craving for blood. Revanents that eat off corpses are abundant. Serial killers and rapists are seriously the least of your worries. All of your fantasy creatures are real, and none are as tame as you know.

Happy hunting~!

[Captain]

Name: Yako Hyperion
Age: 25
Occupation: Hunter



Yeah, so life sucks. I mean, that's pretty goddamn obvious for anyone alive and breathing, and I'm definitely not discounting anyone reading this, since, well... not all of you probably are.

If you're not, though, I've got a bullet with your name on it.

It's fucking cold tonight. Hell if I know why - it's the middle of goddamn June. The black knockoff-leather jacket's not enough to keep the skin warm. I double-checked with my informant - an ugly fucker, some kind of rhino-thick skin and facial horns, like up the nose and ridging to the skull. Looks like a goddamn Klingon. And he wonders why I call him Worf. Can't fuckin pronounce his name. Something like kuratchniakia-blah blah blah. Nobody cares.

Anyways, so he gave me a tip about some leggers who kidnapped some teenage girls. They might be alive; they might be dead; they might be anything and honestly, I don't care. It's the first action I've seen in weeks, and the rent is due.

"Leggers" is a loose term. Look like spiders, about fifty times too big, and without question crawled BACKWARDS out the vagina of that girl from the movie about the cursed VHS. Ring, I think it was. Something like that. Anyways, these jackasses find target and string them up, same as you'd expect, only they don't hang them from trees and their fangs ain't in their mouths. And worse, the paralyzing venom only works for like... 30 seconds. Just long enough to tie you down and strap you to their backs. And THAT's where the fangs are. Literally, these sick fucks'll suck you dry and absorb half your corpse besides over the course of a week. You die, alive, helplessly strapped to a monster's back and feeling your life being sucked away.

Or, so I understand.

[transfixingBibliothecary]

Name: Gwendolen Kriemhild Payne aka "Blair"
Age: 20
Occupation: Psychic-for-Hire

"What the fuck Hyperion-" the girl with the silver hair twisted up so her curly locks created a fauxhawk walked over to meet him in the park they had chosen as their rendezvous, shivering and rubbing at her bare arms in agitation. "Gimme your jacket man, it's fucking cold out tonight."

Unfortunately for her she seemed hardly dressed for the occasion. Baggy green cargo pants hung on a skinny frame just above her hipbones, and a strappy grey top that avoided her midriff entirely and could barely be considered any sort of cover mashed her breasts up against her chest, crossed back behind her neck, and criss-crossed over her back to join back around towards the portion crossed over her mammaries. The top didn't seem lewd as at first glance it looked as if it went into a difference of patterns and colors, and upon closer inspection turned into tattoos.

On her left hip was a skull with its mouth hanging open, either laughing or screaming, surrounded by multi colored flames and smoke that went up to her breasts, on her right hip  was what could only be a phoenix crawling its way up in its multicolored glory, using the claws an beak to bite into her skin, and in between those on her stomach were two hands covered in symbols surrounding two open eyes in the middle of the back of the hand staring at everything and from the eyes were lines tracing the pattern of bone in the hand down to the fingertips that bled into more multi-colored symbols that turned into a cosmic spiral of the universe. Her collarbone and shoulders were mostly untouched, except for an open lotus on her left shoulder and a dreamcatcher on her right that had skeletal hands hanging from it instead of feathers. On her back when she turned it was also mostly bare except for the chakra points along her spine.

The way she moved was rhythmic and alluring, though she seemed to do this without conscious effort. "So..." she pulled out an electronic cigarette and puffed on it, blowing water vapor out her nose as she did, "what are you after tonight again?" Her green eyes were wary of their surroundings, one arm wrapped around her muscular abdomen towards what could have been a hiding spot for a knife despite her tight clothes.

[Captain]

Yako shook his head. "Ain't fucking here to yak, lady." He loosened his shoulders in a round motion. "Nor to share my clothing. You want to stay warm, you keep yourself warm. Ain't my fault nobody told you The Apple ain't the fuckin' Bahamas." He kept walking, not waiting for her to step in pace with him. "Besides, ain't me that asked you to come along. I tend to work on my own." He sneered. "Not that a certain capullo seem to think I'm capable."

The giant pile of mud under the walkbridge stirred as he walked by. "Not tonight, Boggy. Another time." A figure formed out of it, easily 7-8 feet tall. "Hey. Hyperion."

"I said, not tonight, Boggy. Another. Time." Yako repeated, not slowing pace. His tone was more than a little condescending.

"And I said we're talking!" A mudball hit Yako square on the neck. He froze and turned slowly.

"You got a fuckin' deathwish, puta?"

"No," the large pile of mud stated, chunks of wet dirt flying from an oversized mouth. "Do you?" The Bronx accent was painfully strange coming from what should be an inanimate glop of ground.

"The fuck you sayin', tubbo?" Yako assumed an offensive stance. "You think I can't take a few Leggers?" He pretended to be frightened, "Oh, no! A goddamn walkin' spider the size of me! Christo forbid I face a fucking insect!" Back to normal, he wiped some of the mud off his jacket and pointed his knifeblade point-first at the boggart. "Fuck you."

"Ha." 'Boggy' replied as Yako turned away. "Your attitude, your funeral."

"That's what you think, capullo." He said, "Why is it nobody thinks I can take care of myself tonight? I mean, le madre que me pario! Manda huevos!"

"Well, maybe because you ain't ever fought an Auphe before, ya dickweed."

Yako stopped. "You fuckin' with me right now? Talkin' legends and shit?"

"On my mother's grave, you don't know what you're facing, foolish one."

Yako turned around. "You ate your mother, puto. So tell me, what're you saying, and how can you convince me I can trust your words?"

The boggart shook its lumbering figure. "I cannot convince you of shit, dear sire," sarcasm suited the deep voice too well and Yako rolled his eyes. "But I do so very humbly offer these words of caution. So that your skull may stay inside your floppy fragile figure, my greatest one." The act was dropped as he added. "Plus, you owe me. Twice, now."

"Ain't you supposed to be convincing me NOT to die?" Yako grinned. "Here, this'll make up for one." He pulled something golden and shiny out of his pocket. "Thanks. And try not to lose that. I may come back to recollect it later."

The boggart caught it easily, spreading mud across the grass liberally. "You ain't allowed to 'recollect' a gift, dickweed. It's why it's called a gift."

"And you ain't allowed to breathe if you refuse me, cabron." Yako replied. "It's why I don't give. 'Gifts'." With a nod, he turned and kept walking. "Thanks for the warning, but I'll take my chances."

"What, you callin' me a BANK now? Free deposits?" the boggart yelled after him. "Asshole!" Yako grinned and threw him the bird.

"Douche..." Boggy muttered as he sank back into the ground. "Fuckin' douche." He caught sight of Gwen just before settling. "And what're YOU lookin' at, hot cheeks?"

[transfixingBibliothecary]

"Well ain't you pleasant," Blair grumbled as she rubbed her arms to warm up a little. "Fo' yo' information," she snapped at him, "this was a last minute job for me. I was perfectly content to stay wrapped up with my little bed warmer."

When Yako started walking she began grumbling  to herself, most of it was unintelligible but small snippets could be heard, "had the cutest little surgery scars" and "wettest fucking pussy I've ever" and "put $50 in xe's surgery fund jar, I ain't no cheapass".

She just couldn't seem to catch a break tonight, first she gets pulled away from some very interesting times and now she had to deal with this asshole. "Yo', Hyperion, don't get pissy wit me just cause your handout called in the calvary cause you Hunters can only be trusted to die quickly. Jesus..."

The Boggart gathered her attention rather quickly though, she kept herself at a safe distance and when Yako got hit she took the opportunity to flip him off with both hands and obscenely thrust her hips at him while gesturing in a 'v' down to her genitals in a universal "suck it" gesture.

Everything changed in her demeanor though when their informant mentioned the Auphe. She didn't seem surprised, or even afraid, clearly she'd been told about this beforehand. "This is why I got called in asshole," she informed Yako while breaking into the other's conversation. "You may be fast an' shit, but nobody an' you know I mean nobody fucks around when hell's ballsack is involved."

She allowed Yako and the Boggart to fight a little more before she got hit on. With a sidelong glance at the Boggart she scoffed in disdain, "You wish you could get'a piece 'o this." Her hand dug into a pocket on her thigh and she threw him a string of pearls, "There, this is off some lady up-town on my way here, consider it a tip."

As Yako started off again she jogged after him, hands shoved in her already low pants pockets, "Yo, Hyp! That Boggart ain't kiddin' man. I got hired cause there's been Auphe in this park."

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