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[KoH]

As Mikhael made seemingly realistic gasps for air, he asked himself how cruel he should really be. Whether he should throw off Janus' balance and cause him to fall over, whether he should reach out for a nearby length of copper piping and bash the lion-man upside the head, or whether he should very plainly just spit corrosive acid in the man's eyes.

Mikhael decided, fortunately for Janus, on a much less painful solution.

Mikhael knew this place well. He knew the lay of the land, how many people you could fit on one side of the river of sewage, how high you had to aim to jump from side to side, how strong the metal fencing was... it was Mikhael's home turf. And, in a fight like this, Mikhael would use it to his advantage. Mikhael moved his head up and pretended to gasp for air some more, still quite uncomfortable being held up against the wall. Mikhael moved his hand up to the hot copper pipe above. Just as he remembered, it carried gallons of water at over seventy degrees; not quite boiled, but still, not exactly a pleasant temperature to have being sprayed on your face.

Mikhael curled up a fist and pushed it away, before striking where the bolts linked two sections of piping together. He heard the old copper buckle inwards and groan slightly. He struck a second time, feeling Janus constrict more as he realised what the serpentine lycan was doing... now he gasped for air, for real. And on the third time, two bolts came loose, and the piping shuddered slightly and moved down.

The boiling hot water sprayed all over Mikhael and Janus. Janus instinctively moved his hand away so he could quickly leap away from the spray of the hot water. Mikhael hacked out a cough, greatly unhappy that Janus had assaulted his windpipe. Mikhael hissed and leaped towards the feline man. Janus moved in for a swift grab again, but Mikhael was faster this time. He swept Janus' legs, and pushed him to the floor, before pulling up a clawed foot and laying it on Janus' stomach. Mikhael panted and morphed back into human form, rubbing his gut.

"I have to say, Janus, you put up a hell of a fight there." Mikhael pressed his now-human bare foot harder, grinning evilly, before turning and examining the dent that his skull had made in the wall, before gingerly rubbing the back of his head. "That really wasn't pleasant, but I guess you've got to really try and evoke as much of a prospect's power as possible when you're looking for recruits." Mikhael smiled... he knew that if Janus had held him there, that tight, a few seconds longer, he would now be unconscious and at the man's mercy... luck was on his side today. Nevertheless, he tried his hardest to put the lion-man in his place - the one chosen by Mikhael.

Mikhael lifted his foot and tried not to show too much of the pain around his throat and the back of his head. "Chop chop, little lion. I've got something to show you." Mikhael moved up to the mesh fence door of the stairwell.

[K3]

Grudgingly, Janus began to rise to his feet, but not before angrily slamming his fist into the ground. Back in human form, he coughed up a bit of steaming sewer water. His entire body ached from the fight, but it was only an ache. Despite his loss, he'd inflicted more damage than his opponent. He would take solace there.

Mikhael had had the advantage this time. He'd had a better understanding of his surroundings, and fought with much more of a plan than Janus had. Perhaps what pained him the most was not his physical injuries, or his humiliation at losing, or even the fact that now Mikhael had every right to look down on him. It was the pain of admitting to himself that he needed this man's skills that stung most sharply.

Brushing a solid substance from his jacket, he followed Mikhael down the tunnel. It was almost as if the fight had never occurred. Slowly, he approached the doorway Mikhael had come to.

"So," he began nonchalantly. "What exactly are you planning on showing me?"

[KoH]

Mikhael smiled and gently pushed the mesh gate open, walking slowly down to the door. He didn't bother lifting the little window panel up, he simply turned the dial a few times, not making much effort to hide the code from Janus. A telltale click told him he could come through, and Mikhael laid his hands on the massive vault door, and began to turn it, having to heave it every time it came around. The door was massive, and Mikhael's energy was starting to get a little bit lower than his comfort zone.

He swung the massive metal door back and stared out. Inside was a massive cylindrical room. It must have been at least three hundred feet high. In some sewer systems in Manhattan, this main disposal system was outdated and left. Basically, in any normal one of these rooms, sewer would have been falling out of sixteen major pipes up above. However, Mikhael and his cohorts had blocked them up, and built up on the ground a complex of small buildings, and one building that resembled a tall block of flats. It was almost like a small, underground hamlet, with a block of apartments in the centre, hitting maybe a third of the colossal disposal room's real height.

It really was a sight to behold. An underground camp for lunatic and psychotic blood-thirsty lycans. And Mikhael had TOTAL power over each and every one of them sitting down there.

Around the side of the room was a fairly smooth spiraling staircase that eventually hit the bottom. It looked a pain to walk down, but most of the residents there would tell you that it was worse to walk up. Mikhael smiled and turned to Janus, grinning.

"Let's get going." He gestured at the staircase and started to traverse down it.

[K3]

It was difficult for Janus to decide how he felt about the miniature civilization Mikhael had established below the city. It was certainly unnatural, and that displeased him. On the other hand it would serve as a perfect safe house in times when his luck might have been wearing thin. It certainly demonstrated the power Mikhael had, possessing a legion of loyal followers dwelling just below a major city.

His gaze fell away from the makeshift town and onto the rather lengthy staircase ahead of them. patiently, he followed Mikhael in his descent.

[KoH]

Time: 8:47 AM, Location: Outside the Order HQ

Mikhael smiled and panted. The descent down the stairs hadn't exactly been pleasant, but it was nothing too taxing. He looked up at the door; it appeared to have a few dozen nicks and slashes in it; probably from some sort of scuffle with Legacy, or maybe an uprising inside the Order itself. Either way, it was a simple wooden door, that would open a lot of paths for Janus.

"Janus. When you enter this building, you will see a foyer, with two doors on either side of the room, and an elevator in between each pair. You will take the nearest door to us on your left. Whilst you are still a prospect of the Order, that will be your room. I'm gonna go..." Mikhael looked down at the scraps that used to be his shirt and coat. "...get changed, and then I'll meet you in the conference room. Third floor. Don't use the elevator, and don't ask anyone for directions. Don't even make contact with a single living soul inside this building. They all know you're a prospect," Mikhael pulled out a silver pair of what appeared to be some imitation military-issue dog tags from his pocket, with a dirty chain on it. It was covered in grime. "because you aren't wearing a pair of these, and you aren't me. If you try to talk to someone, your reception won't exactly be pleasant."

Mikhael moved in and into one of the elevators, before shouting a message back. "I know you don't like being treated like a novice, but, this'll all be over in a few hours, Janus, trust me."

[K3]

Janus nodded his silent acknowledgment to Mikhael as the reptilian lycan departed. It was true, he didn't like the way he was being treated at all. But after that fight he'd been proven to be the weaker of two men. That was a new experience for him, and for the first time he had no other option than to simply take his orders without question.

Not bothering to search through his room, Janus stalked back to the stairs and began his ascent to the third floor. He glanced down at his clothes. The fight with Mikhael had put a few additional tears in his jacket, but nothing too major.

For whatever reason he hadn't been allowed to use the elevator, it had better have been a good one. Even he, who had excessive experience traveling great distances on foot found the uphill climb somewhat tedious.

He was nearing the third floor when he saw a tall man walking towards him. The man was well muscled, and his face was almost completely hidden behind thick sunglasses and the shade provided by a solid black bowler hat. His build could've been seen under even a thick coat, but the fact that he wore a tight T-shirt only added to his intimidating appearance. The tight shirt also revealed the variety of tattoos running up and down his arms. Around his neck were a set of dog tags like the ones Mikhael had showed him earlier.

As the two passed each other by, the man with the sunglasses gazed at Janus. At least, he assumed he was gazing at him. A slight sneer formed om the man's mouth. Janus ignored him.

He continued ignoring him up until the man's huge palm wrapped around his wrist. Janus met what he thought was the man's eyes behind his glasses, but made no move. If this strange lycan tried anything, he wouldn't have any trouble defeating him. He couldn't be nearly as strong as Mikhael after all.

In the end, stare was all the man did. Soon he released Janus's arm and the two went their separate ways. Janus could only assumed the man had been preforming some sort of personal test, although he didn't much care if he'd passed or not. It was not long after that that he arrived at the third floor.   

   

[cj]

Date: December 5th, 204 NA, Time: 8:13 AM, Location: Johnathon's Apartment

Awaking to an unfamiliar place, Scout panicked until she caught Johnathon's scent on the couch. The sound of running water registered and she peered into the kitchen. It wasn't coming from there. That meant the bathroom. After a minute of waiting, the water continued and Johnny still hadn't appeared. That meant Johnny was taking a bath.

Scout didn't understand baths. You could wash off your scent, but it would come back because it was your scent. She could understand wanting to wash off another's scent if you got hit by a skunk (which Scout had been once before), but other scents could also help you blend in if they were subtler. Those fruity soap smells didn't help at all though. They just smelled... fruity.

Letting her nose lead her, Scout wandered past the bathroom to Johnny's bedroom. She kicked off her shoes and climbed into his bed where his scent was strongest. Burying her face in his pillow, she inhaled. Johnny smelled like a wood fire with a touch of the incense used during mass. She lay still, breathing him in.

After several minutes she opened her eyes. She pushed herself up on her elbows so she could see the items on his nightstand better. The lamp and alarm clock she had already been able to see clearly. Next to them were two phones. Scout wasn't quite sure why he had two phones. She knew business men often had two phones from watching them in the park, one for the office and one for the family. Sometimes they even kept a third for mistresses. But priests were single and Johnny was a priest so he shouldn't have one for family or a mistress. Her confusion continued as her eyes moved to a lighter. Johnny hadn't smelled like smoke and neither did his apartment. She wasn't used to seeing people who didn't smoke carry lighters. Confusion aside, she opened the drawer. She picked the rosary up off of the Bible and turned it over in her hands, feeling the beads.

Scout slid off the bed and knelt beside it. In her left hand she grasped the crucifix as she moved her right in the sign of the cross.

"I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord; Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into hell; the third day He arose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting. Amen."

[Hypno Bunny]

Time: 8:15 AM, Location: Johnathon's Apartment

Johnathon smiled as he draped a towel around himself and exited the bathroom. His hair was still soaked, but the blow dryer in his room would take care of that. Walking down the hall, he then heard part of a familiar prayer coming from his bedroom.

"...judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting. Amen."

His smile became calmer, and he felt an overwhelming sensation of tingling come upon him. Scout was actually praying, something that he had never known of her... And now the church wanted her dead? This hole situation felt ludicrous and... wrong...

"Good morning, Scout. Ready for our play date at the park?" He then walked over to his dresser and turned on his hair dryer, waving it above his head gently. Soon his hair was feeling warm and dry, and he turned to his closet. "I... may need some privacy to get dressed. Would you like me to find you a change of clothes as well? I don't have any girl's clothing, but I could let you borrow a t-shirt if you'd like?"

Time: 8:21 AM, Location: Outside of P.R.I.D. HQ

Exiting the building, Damian took a look around. He wasn't used to receiving these kinds of orders, but apparently something had come up. He had heard rumors of an organization of his kind in this city, an 'Order of the Fang', but he had never taken them to mean anything. Now he was to bring in someone, a Larry Oswald, who had been rumored to be among their ranks. He was also a bearer of a reptilian totem, a snake to be precise, and P.R.I.D. wanted him brought in for witnesses claiming that they had seen him kill two men only to consume them afterwords.

Damian wasn't too fond of the idea of capturing another lycanthrope, but if they wanted him, there was nothing he could do to change their minds. Plus, Damian wasn't rather fond of murderers either.

His home was reported to be on the other side of the city, but Damian knew people like this better than that. Why would he stay at home if witnesses got away with knowing him for what, and who, he is? Wouldn't make sense, but that was still the first place he had to check.

[cj]

Johnathon's Apartment

Scout jumped at the sound of Johnathon's voice. Her hands scrambled to put the rosary back in the drawer and shut it. Even though he had already seen her with it, it was a reactionary attempt to hide her snooping.

When he mentioned needing to get dressed, she glanced over and blushed. She wasn't exactly... unfamiliar with the male body, but seeing Johnathon so bare was weird. He was, she guessed, a priest and on top of that he had practically been her brother.

"I... I don't really need one."

Not yet.

Scout wasn't exactly sure why she refused his offer. She didn't think it was pride. She'd gotten quite a bit of clothing from different shelters. And sometimes the men.... Johnny... it seemed different. The other clothes, she finally figured, were bought to be given away. Johnny's clothes were Johnny's clothes.

"It's okay," she assured him from the doorway before heading to the bathroom.

In addition, Johnny would probably hand her a clean shirt. It would smell a little bit like him, but a lot like soap. If she had a Johnny shirt, she'd want it to smell like him. It would be too awkward to ask for one though. It might let on that something was wrong with her.

[KoH]

Mikhael smiled as he swung open the door, upon which 'Penthouse' was embossed in dirty bronze. He immediately slid in, shut the door, and locked it. The room was a mess. There were quite a few dry bloodstains all over the walls, and the two couches opposite the broken television were ripped and stained with god-knows-what.

Mikhael's bed, however, was even worse. There were bloodstains on that, too, and the mattress had various rips in it. The entire suite looked as if someone had taken what used to be a penthouse suite and gone on a death rampage. Mikhael grabbed another pair of jeans and a shirt from his wardrobe, before quickly changing and heading to the door.

He stopped at the sink, and quickly splashed some water onto his face, before grabbing the nearby baseball bat. As he did, he accidentally slid a letter - handwritten, and in a blood-sealed letter, as was the custom throughout the order - off of the counter and onto the marble floor. He held the bat at ease by his side, and picked up the letter, opening the seal easily with his claw, and sliding the paper out.

The words 'Lawrence Oswald - Boa' were above a picture of a high-up official in the Order. The picture appeared to be a shot from a bad CCTV camera, with Oswald's face circled. Below that was a closeup of his face. Mikhael shook his head, and read below it.

'Wanted by PRID - information leading directly to the capture of Lawrence Oswald, the boa, will be rewarded with $2000.' Below that were some handwritten notes - presumably from one of Mikhael's contacts in PRID.

'Larry tripped up. Some idiot watched him kill and eat two people.' Then there was a quick-written signature, and a couple of drops of blood, that had almost ran into the ink. Mikhael made a 'hmph' sound, dropped the letter, and walked out the door, now holding the bat in both hands, swinging it into the air.


The dull thrum of the cellphone buzzing against the chest of drawers rang throughout the room. Once. Gabriel stirred. Twice. Still asleep, he reached under his pillow for his gun, instinct making him grab it before he woke. A third time. He jolted upright and looked around, before calming and wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. He sighed, and stared at the phone, picking it up, still holding the pistol.

"Yes?"
"Things have changed, Gabriel. Your initial contract is still active, but, now we want a secondary. Lawrence Oswald. The boa. Unfortunately, it's come to our attention that none other than Mr Wyatt, your target, is looking for him. Due to an insider in PRID recently being promoted and having access to information, we now have the number of Mr. Wyatt's cellphone, which you can track on the GPS on your phone after we send it to you. Proof of the boa's kill should be a syringe of blood. Single syringe this time, reward will be thirty thousand dollars." Then, before Gabriel could answer, the hang-up tone rang out. He sighed, snapped the phone shut, and got dressed, picking up his knife and disarming the charge.

Five minutes later

Gabriel straightened his tie, and flipped open the phone. One new message. As promised, it was Damian Wyatt's phone number, or, at least, what looked like it. Gabriel added the number and pondered something.

So far, his hit had been all regulations and rules. Gabe hadn't had time for improvisation. Games. Playing around with his targets. Not torture - Gabriel liked that sometimes, but lycans sometimes didn't snap. He didn't want to take another risk. As he slid the remainder of the syringes, whether they were empty, full of cyanide solution, or tranquiliser, into his jacket, he smiled and rang Damian's cellphone.

[K3]

((Truly sorry I haven't been posting.))

Time: 8:53 AM Location: Order HQ

Waiting on the third floor, Janus overcame his boredom by cracking the joints in his fingers several times over. He thought he might have gone through all ten fingers about four times by now. He was used to waiting though. Sometimes he'd have to wait hours or even days to find appropriate prey. This was nothing.

Mikhael did not seem the type to keep people waiting though. Sure he was willing to blatantly disrespect anyone and anything he chose to, but he was also a professional. Janus doubted he'd disregard punctuality unless something important had come up. Perhaps he'd look into it.

Then again, Janus had done anything but take his time showing up here. Maybe he was just being paranoid. After all, he was intelligent enough to understand that not everyone was quite as to the point as he was.

[Hypno Bunny]

Johnathon's Apartment

"Heh, suit yourself." the man playfully replied. It seemed kind of strange for Scout to turn down something as simple as clothes, but he guessed it would be fine. Afterall, who was he to judge her? Only the lord could truly judge them in the end...

Trying to release the thought from his brain, Johnathon quickly began preparing for the day. Remembering what the mysterious contact had told him, he attempted to find something as casual as possible to wear.

Finally deciding on a lime green shirt, with white stripes and sleeves that were almost too long for him, and blue jeans, Johnathon threw them on before sitting at his bed to put on his socks and shoes. He stopped however, once he noticed that his rosary beads were still hanging from his bedside drawer from where Scout had been in a hurry to leave the room. Slowly, he slid them back in and shut the drawer before finishing getting ready.

"So, Scout, you ready to go then?" Johnathon asked as he made his way into the kitchen. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry, and he hadn't for the past few days. Not wanting to worry Scout though, he picked up an apple and began munching on it as he made his way to the door.

Time: 8:34 AM EST, Location: Broome Street, near Little Italy

Damian smiled as he caught the scent of another Lycan. He had already walked several miles from the P.R.I.D. headquarters, and he knew it would be a pain to have to walk all the way to where this Oswald character was reported to live. It would be better, he decided, if he was able to... gather some information from a fellow Lycanthrope.

Turning down the intersection between Broome and Mott Street, Damian found himself at one of the oldest restaurants in the entire city; Sal's Pizzeria. He wasn't too happy to find that the Lycan he had sniffed out was the one he had to protect yesterday. Joseph was all the way out here, digging through a trash bin for scraps. It was disgusting.

"Joseph. Stop, and I'll take you inside for some food, alright?" He wasn't really supposed to sidetrack, but the kid could have information, and to tell the truth... it disgusted him to see someone in the same position he was in a while back.

"Hey, you're the guy that P.R.I.D. sent to help me out yesterday! Sure, buddy!"

"Name's Damian, but whatever..." He then stopped as his cellphone began to vibrate, unclipping it from his pocket. Damian then flipped it open, with an annoyed, "Yeah?"

[KoH]

"Hello, Mr. Wyatt." Gabriel smiled and fiddled with his cuffs, before waiting for the opportune strike to hang up. "Listen here." Gabriel finally managed to finish up messing with his shirt, and straightened his tie before heading over to his case, and flipping it open. He took one of the pistols from it and pulled back the slide right next to the phone, so it would be audible for Damian.

"Shut the fuck up and listen." Gabe grinned and started again. "That was a pistol sliding back. One of two pistols firing very unique ammunition, a round of which will soon find itself between your eyes, before I take six empty syringes of your blood, cut off your two upper canines, and dump your body in a ditch, before leaving New York for at least three months, and at most ten years. When I do return, I will have a different face and a different name. It's the way I work. I am, for lack of a better term, an assassin. A hitman. Whatever you want to call me. And I have a very high-end contract on your life."

Here was where the fun started. Toying with Damian's psyche.

"I have a secondary contract. Someone called Lawrence Oswald. I understand you've also been dispatched to find him. Now, if you beat me to finding Lawrence Oswald, I will make an offer to exchange your life for his, before I leave New York forever. A race, Mr. Wyatt. If you don't take me up on my offer, I will kill you both."

Another pause.

"And a few words of advice. This number is private, and even if you can track it, you'll find a SIM inside a remote-detonated block of C4. Alert anybody else of my presence and you - and they - will be whistling pretty little tunes through the holes in your head. Goodbye Mr. Wyatt. If you take me up on my offer, you will know when you see me. As for names... you shouldn't need them. Even after we meet. Goodbye, Mr. Wyatt." And with that, Gabriel hung up, and took a sigh.

[cj]

Johnathon's Apartment

Scout splashed water on her face and scrubbed. Last night they'd just been happy to see each other again. She worried though that if her face was dirty Johnny might think that the rest of her was dirty and he'd make her take a bath. Ugh, baths.

When she came out, Johnathon asked if she was ready to go as he grabbed an apple and headed for the door. She looked at him and the kitchen for a moment quizzically for a moment.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I'm ready."

[K3]

Time: 8:57 Location: Order HQ

Inside the conference room, Janus was still sitting patiently awaiting Mikhael. For some reason, the minutes seemed much longer than they were. Of course Janus couldn't understand why. He'd given up trying to pass the time and was now simply sitting still, his eyes darting from one wall to the next every few seconds.

The conference room was surprisingly well furnished compared to the other rooms he'd seen here at the HQ. The walls were unstained at least. Currently, he was looking over the painting at the far end of the room, a storm of dark earthy colors forming a screaming face. Not exactly the type of art one would expect to see in a conference room.

He let his gaze fall from the painting when something new caught his eye. In the far left hand corner of the room was a small wooden stool. Though the stool itself seemed to have no place here in the room it wasn't what Janus was interested in. Laying on top of the stool were a set of beige folders. Growing bored, and unable to contain his curiosity Janus stood ad strode over to them.

There were two folders sitting in front of him. The small tabs protruding from them informed him that they contain information on members of the Order and the organization called PRID respectively. He picked up the folder on PRID and flipped through it casually. The several dossiers inside didn't interest him much, aside from the ones stamped in red letters with the word "Informant" on them.

It was the members of the order he was truly interested in. Sure Mikhael was strong, but a king was only ever as strong as his army. Janus needed to make sure he wasn't joining forces with a group of amateurs.

As it turned out, the order had higher member standards than he'd expected. Judging from the information provided, Janus didn't want to be on any of their bad sides. They were all supposedly repeat killers, and they'd all managed to avoid being discovered by the authorities. Janus took note of the fact that any of the agents who had been caught feeding had their files stamped in large letters indicating that they were deceased.     

Janus couldn't tell why these files were all out here. Perhaps Mikhael had been intending to show him these files later, or maybe they were being used in a different meeting and someone forgot to put them away. Either way, he decided it couldn't be too harmful just to look over the information. If it had contained anything of real importance, it would not have been so foolishly left unguarded.