The Hunt Is On [Open]

[Baron Cromwell]

Cromwell was grumpy.

It wasn't just one of those "woke up on the wrong side of the bed" grumpy feelings, it was one of those "something fundamentally wrong with the universe and everything in it" feelings. He had a Council meeting later that night, so it would definitely be in his best interests to not be the grumpiest vampire in the city. (He'd leave that to Rafael.)

He'd put out a status on his Facebook about going out to hunt, just in case he was late to the meeting, and had extended an invitation to any of his friends to come along. It'd be fun, he told himself, to try hunting with somebody else for once, and there was a pack out on the fringes of town that had been long overdue for some pruning. They were getting pretty out-of-control, and it was affecting the local deer population, not to mention all the other repercussions of having too many goddamn werewolves.

Then again, in Cromwell's mind, any amount of werewolves were too many, unless they'd proven their innocence. None of the mutts he'd met had ever even tried. All they ever did was fight and destroy all they saw, or so it seemed. He'd stop making generalizations when he was proven wrong, he told himself.

So, in response to many separate events, Cromwell found himself standing in his usual parking lot, waiting for any of his comrades in arms to show up. He hadn't checked his messages before setting out, so it was a mystery to him who intended to show up. He was also curious whether or not someone completely unrelated might show up and get dragged along on this "adventure" of sorts. He had mixed feelings about the idea.

Cromwell checked the trunk as someone else approached, and a grin lit up the vampire's face, fangs showing. This was going to be good.

"Hey. You along for the ride?"

word count ** 321 **
notes ** friendship with cromwell preferable but not required **
tagged ** open! **
mood ** grump grump grump i'm shoot things grump grump **
credits ** bad moon rising by creedence clearwater revival **

[Shane Williams]

Buzz. Buzz. Shane's phone started to go off as he was "enjoying" another self-help book in his living room. He rolled is eyes at the facebook app giving him yet another notification. It was important to Shane to stay connected with whatever was modern and contemporary, even how ridiculous and annoying it may be. The updates he would receive mainly came from his employees and any council members. Making a good impression on the council was important to Shane, mostly because he was the youngest member. He didn't want to make a fool of himself and didn't want to disrespect any of the other members.

After placing the book down on the table, he grabbed his phone and swiped through it. This status update came from Eddie Cromwell. Shane's eyebrow perked up at the open invitation to go on a hunt. He was on the fence with Cromwell's vendetta against the were population. It was justified but almost to the point of utter obsession. Shane had once been through something similar to that after he went off the deep end in his younger years. There was a time when Shane didn't want anything else but to watch the world go up in flames. It was obvious that Cromwell had himself under control and he had spent more than enough time on this earth to avenge his family ten fold. Shane would never verbalize these thoughts to Cromwell. He would never want to disrespect the man and frankly it wasn't any of Shane's business.

His eyes gazed down at the upside down book on his table and back to the status on his phone. With a slight smile and a shrug, he liked the post and shoved the phone in his pocket. Why not? There was plenty of time before the council meeting to join his associate on this mission. He was interested to pick Cromwell's brain and hopefully have an interesting bonding experience with the fellow vamp. Shane was well aware he could learn more than a few things from him. He pushed himself off the couch and made his way into his bedroom. The walk-in closet was stocked with countless jackets, shirts, and pants but the one thing he kept in the closet that no one knew about was a stash of weapons. 

It had been quite a while since Shane was in a good brawl. His temper usually got the best of him but as of lately he had been on a pretty even keel. Must be those damn self-help books. God damn, they must be working. He tried to convince himself that they weren't a waste of money. With a gentle push, he opened the secret part of the wall where he stashed his armory. The weapons contained in his private collection were all he had obtained over his years. Most of them were from his youth, starting with his "trusty switchblade" from his gang years. After he had been turned his collection grew greatly. Shane had never really hunted werewolves before, he was a little unsure of what to bring with him. All the weapons in his arsenal he was proficient in. His hand slowly grazed across each one before it stopped on the katana. It was light and easy to use, although not very easy to conceal. Shane wasn't even sure if he would really be using it anyway. With a shrug he pulled it off the shelf and grabbed it's sheath. 

On his way out of his closet, he grabbed a leather jacket. He pulled the jacket on and placed the katana around his torso. His right arm reached up, making sure he would be able to grab it if needed to. Perfect. Not a moment later, he stuffed cigarettes and his keys into his pocket as he walked down the hall out of his apartment. A cigarette and a short walk later, Shane found himself entering the parking lot Cromwell had mentioned in his post. Out of no where a rather testy and surly feeling washed over him. His eyes wandered across the parking lot, noticing Cromwell rummaging through his trunk. When Shane approached him, Cromwell turned around and with a smile asked if he was going to join.

"Yes, yes I'm here to keep you company. And aren't we feeling a little crabby tonight?" Shane said with a small smile, flashing just a bit of fang.

[word count]:[731]
[notes]:[Shane's a little nervous to go out with Cromwell, but hopes this can build a stronger bond between the two. ]
[tagged]:[Baron Cromwell]

[Baron Cromwell]

Out of all the members of the Council the Third Moon had expected to turn up, the youngest had not topped the list, though he had been a contender for fourth. Cromwell found himself pleasantly surprised. "Good to see the young blood out and about." His eyes dropped to the katana at Shane's belt with an approving nod. "And you brought your own weapon. I'm impressed." He didn't know the Twelfth Moon very well, but no time like the present to get to know him. "You could say I'm crabby, I guess, if those were words you'd use to describe me. I like to think I'm a little high-strung and I'd like to get that out before the meeting. But that's just my take."

Cracking his neck, he gestured to the passenger seat. "You get shotgun. And, in the event that we meet any mutts on the way out there, it'll be literal." He'd waited long enough and didn't want to spend too much time deliberating before things got going--they did only have so much time before the meeting. "As they say, less talk, more rock." He opened the door, swinging himself into the seat and making sure his mirrors were adjusted properly before turning the key. The car sprang to life. "Alright, I'm good to go. Anything you need before we head off? I've got enough ammunition for both of us if you get tired of the sharp and pointy, but face-to-face sounds like a real good idea tonight. Sends a message better than damn near anything else."

If he wanted to, Cromwell had experience fighting the wolves with his bare hands, but that was usually less than ideal. He had an affinity for bludgeoning instruments, though, so he'd brought along a titanium baseball bat specially made with lines of silver in it. It'd burn like hell to any wolf it touched, and it'd leave a mark that wouldn't soon be forgotten.

Then, Cromwell reached under his seat and pulled out a dented box of Fruit Gushers. "I brought snacks."

word count ** 341**
notes ** none **
tagged ** Shane Williams  **
mood ** pretty decent **
credits ** bad moon rising by creedence clearwater revival **

[Shane Williams]

Shane grabbed the leather holster that laid across his chest as Cromwell mentioned the sword. "I was unsure what to bring on a hunt like this. Haven't dealt too much with the howling type." He added as his legs carried him to the passenger side of the car. Shane understood Cromwell's want to get the show on the road, being late to the meeting wasn't an ideal choice but showing up with an older member of the council would look better than showing up by himself. Impressions seemed to be important to everyone, especially if you're new blood. It was something Shane didn't want to jeopardize. 

Before sliding into the car, Shane lifted the sword off his back and placed it next to the passenger seat. Easy access without having to sit with it uncomfortably. A smile crept over his face at the mention of a shotgun. No other weapon seemed to suit Shane better than a shotgun. Short burst of uncontrollable fury. Well at least Shane was trying to control that side of him. "I'm game for whatever you have planned tonight, Cromwell." He looked over to the elder as he turned the key and revved the engine. Shane gave Cromwell a bright grin as he shook the box of gummies in the air before the car jerked forward in great speed. 

A gust of cool air dominated the car ride, making it difficult for the twosome to carry a conversation. Not that Shane had much to talk to Cromwell about. Sooo why do you feel the need to wipe out the entire race of werewolves? Oh that's right they murdered your whole family and you need to seek revenge on every last one. Didn't seem very subtle in Shane's head. There had to be other things for the two of them to talk about but at the moment it didn't matter. Shane was there to support Cromwell in his mission and make sure he didn't go in too deep. Shane was rusty when it came to combat and violence but he knew it would come back to him quick, providing him with the itch to cause some serious damage. 

[word count]:[361]

[notes]:[none]

[tagged]:[Baron Cromwell]

[Baron Cromwell]

The Baron chuckled. "Believe me, if I could've gone a whole lifetime without dealing with 'em, I would have. Only reason I keep going out for their blood is because they never learn to back the hell off." He paused for a thought, then added, "Silver works well, but anything you can wield with certainty is best. Better to know that you know what you're doing than try using their biggest weaknesses."

The drive was, for the most part, silent, though not out of Cromwell's preference. He had to admit that living the high-profile Council life had made him less knowledgeable than he liked about the other Full Moons. "So," he said after a notable silence, just barely resisting the urge to call Shane a "whippersnapper" or "young'un" in jest, "what have you been up to, other than going to meetings? War's been rough lately, can't imagine it's been particularly kind to you." Then, Cromwell shrugged. "If it has, though, you're a lucky man. Might want to watch your back in that case, make sure you don't get too lucky. I hear Hardwick likes his position." Laughing, Cromwell shook his head. "He probably wouldn't do that, I'm just fucking with you. I know you haven't been around me a lot, and I come off as all serious werewolf killer all the time, but I do have a sense of humor."

Okay, it was a bit of a macabre sense of humor, if he correctly remembered the time that he'd gone out with Aleena and made a hand puppet out of a wolf's head (she had given him quite the look for that, though he seemed to remember that she laughed nonetheless) but he was still capable of being lighthearted and goofy, no matter what the others might have told the younger members.

"Speaking of which. Heard any good jokes lately?"

word count ** 310 **
notes ** cromwell is weird **
tagged ** Shane Williams **
mood ** goofing off **
credits ** bad moon rising by creedence clearwater revival **

[Shane Williams]

Shane listened to the older vampire rattle on to kill the silence. He would admit the silence was a bit deafening but Shane had always pretty much sat in silence. His thoughts usually got the best of him, or trying to dull everyone else's emotions out of his mind. He could help but give a laugh at what Cromwell was saying. His mood did change into more lighthearted, fun therefore it was easier for Shane to be reciprocate those emotions back.

"There was a time when it was rough. I fought on the wrong side for a while. Tore humans and pluses limb from limb, just because I could." He paused to reminisce, almost thinking those were the days. But that would be wrong. Bad Shane. "But I got so bored so quick. A life consumed by such a fire burns through you quickly and I didn't want to get scorched by that fire. Although." He gave another pause and this time with a smile, continued his thoughts. "I do miss the heat. I won't lie. Maybe that's why I wanted to go on this hunt with you. The past ten or so years, I've been trying to calm myself down. Center myself, if you will. But those damn self help books are just as boring." Shane gave a chuckle, hoping the older vamp would give a laugh too. "I think that maybe I need to find that balance. I just haven't found it yet." 

Quite the unexpected chatterbox. Shane sat back in his chair and gripped the sword, almost as a safety blanket. He smirked at Cromwell's question about knowing any jokes. "I'm not the joking type. But I can bet that you've heard quite a few in your time, Cromwell. Lemme hear a good one." He said looking over to the driver, wondering what was up in his sleeve. 


[word count]:[311]
[notes]:
[tagged]:[Baron Cromwell]

[Baron Cromwell]

Cromwell gave a grunt of recognition to Shane's statement about how he'd been. "That's... understandable, to an extent. I might not get the targets, but I understand unbridled aggression real well." He stopped for a minute, giving a little bit of a sigh. "Though I like to think I'm putting mine to a constructive use. Striking a balance between being collected and angry is pretty tough. I don't think that a lot of people do it well. Hell, I don't even do it well, and I've been trying for damn near three hundred years. I think you're making more progress than me, that way. Maybe the self-help books are working, even if they do bore you outta your skull."

He waited a few minutes, trying to think of a joke. It wasn't even that he was trying to avoid those related to death. He was just having a really hard time thinking of any at all. "Well. Uh. Hmm. Oh, here's one. What do sprinters eat before a race? Nothing. They fast."

Cromwell chuckled to himself. Wordplay was good. Good, clean fun.

"Wait, hang on, here's another one. A magician that spoke Spanish was performing for an audience and said he was going to disappear on the count of three. So he counted, uno, dos, and then he disappeared without a tres." Damn, I'm hilarious.

He paused for a while, then took a turn. "I could come up with more if you give me a few minutes. I'll figure something out. It's been a while since I've been put on the spot like this. People don't usually ask for jokes back." Cromwell snickered, then added, "Though I guess most people don't really think of me as a real light-hearted guy, so they're pretty surprised when I ask for a joke in the first place."

word count ** 304 **
notes ** BACK FOR REALS SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG??? **
tagged ** Shane Williams  **
mood ** jovial **
credits ** bad moon rising by creedence clearwater revival **