Azrael

Only Fools Walk Where Angels Fear To Tread

"No, I will not go. I am at least three streets away. Send someone else to deal with it."

That voice on the other end of the phone exploded into a torrent of complaint. Those usual excuses thrown at him. Azrael content to ignore them before that correspondent attempted some vague form of flattery, arguing that this part of the city was under his jurisdiction and that no one else was fast enough, his golden eyes rolling at that shameless attempt. The Hunter was willing to bet they simply didn't want to bother calling anyone else when he was the most reliable Hunter the Council had on the ground and yet really, something as menial as checking out a 'shoots fired' complaint was beneath him. Didn't they have some trainee to do that? The woman on the end of the phone taking to pleading now- a decidedly bold move. Azrael near infamous for his decidedly short temper. So much so that those receptionists and phone support staff who handled those calls the public made to the council any time they felt the supernatural population was out of control- were generally given to argue over who had to call him.

"Fine."

The word was near uttered a sigh, the man ending the tall before tucking that phone back into his jeans pocket, that sleeveless black jacket that had become his usual hunting attire was zipped up and yet he hardly bothered with the hood tonight. The blonde Hunter seeing little need to make any efforts at concealment for something as mundane as wandering around a street to see if someone had a gun. Chances were it was little more than a backfiring car- a human-based robbery at worst. Those petty human crimes a task for the police and hardly his concern in any sense. Azrael almost tempted to phone the station ahead of time and simply send those police cars so he could get back to his own task for the night and yet- he supposed- he could spare two minutes. The location of that shooting only three streets away. The man quickened his pace then to that light jog, no more then two or three steps taken before that affinity engaged. Azrael no more than a blur in those moments that followed as that supernatural speed took hold. His movement far too swift for any mortal eye to track, that speed seeing him arrive at the mouth of that suspected location less than two minutes later despite the distance. Azrael vaulting up and onto the roof of the nearest building to peer down below just in time to see a familiar curly haired woman racing away from...a body? His gaze darting to the left at the sound of someone else disappearing into the shadows of the street. Another Hunter. He could sense him from here. That dead woman a Were of some kind. Fucking great. Any hope of a simple night had been dashed. Azrael lifting his phone from his pocket once more, several photographs of that retreating hunter snapped before the man simply let the other Hunter disappear from sight.

Chasing him would be an effort he hardly cared to exert. The death of a Were hardly something he planned to avenge and yet he hadn't recognised that man, at least not immediately. Either the fellow worked for the Council and thus was somewhere below him in those ranks- or he was a rouge. Azrael hardly having time for either. He vaulted easily from that roof then, landing beside the body of that dead woman, his golden gaze lingering near emotionlessly upon her. That soft snort fell from him then, Azraely eyeing those bullet wounds with a mild look of displeasure. The best kind of Were was a dead Were as far as he was concerned and yet- this one was aged. For all he was- for all he had done- even he would not have peppered an old woman full of silver like this. This had been handled poorly. Either the man who had done this was a fucking bad shot- or he had some anger issues. That single glowing ball of light readily begun to materialises in his hand then. Azrael letting that power gather and surge before simply...dropping that glowing orb onto that body. That light engulfing it a moment later. Disintegrating it until nothing but ash existed to blow away in the wind.

Now to deal with Raven. His hands tucked back into his pockets then. Azrael striding from that alleyway and out onto the street, the Hunter heading for that bar the woman had run into. The Cat's Meow. Nadya Tetradore's bar. Interesting choice. God how he hated this place with all it's....scantily clad women. Azrael momentarily wondering whether or not Serafina would take offense at his being here. Not that he found any of those women even mildly attractive, not when he had one far finer waiting at home. One who was going to yell at him if he was late again. It hardly took him long to find that curly haired woman seated at the bar and downing alcohol like it was going out of style. His own sense proceeding to go near haywire with so many of those supernatural beings that surrounded him. His reputation in this city proceeding him, it seemed, as several of those Fae waitresses screamed and ran. Anyone not human making a distinct effort to get out of his way else flee entirely. Azrael rolling his eyes once more.

"Raven!"

He hardly cared in that moment whether or not he made the woman jump. Azrael coming to stand behind her, arms folding across his chest, his golden eyes glancing briefly at the man beside her before doing a near double take at the realisation it was another Hunter. Sitting in here? Was he a sympathizer? He didn't work for the Council, that much was for sure. Azrael almost certain he'd ever seen him before. His attention returned to Raven then, those scathing words on his lips and yet....he bit them back. Raven's connection to his own girlfriend perhaps tying his hands....so to speak. Azrael having promised to make more of an effort with the Werewolf if only for Serafina's benefit. Although, he supposed, she was not terrible for a Were. If he had to choose one of them to 'almost' like, it would surely be Raven. Azrael aiming for a calmer more personable voice now. At least he was trying.

"Raven, do you want to tell me why you just came sprinting out of an alleyway that has a dead woman in it? Did you get attacked? Wait- what's in your hands, fuck Raven what did you steal?"

He'd hardly pegged the woman for a petty thief (that was surely her lunatic boyfriend's category) and yet that bloodied medal or whatever it was seemed to indicate otherwise. Azrael at last letting his gaze drift back to that other Hunter then. His patience for his own kind decidedly more viable. Azrael eyeing the man then.

"Haven't seen you before, you new? Or did Raven here drag you into this somehow too? Were you in that alleyway too?"

He would know the moment either of them lied to him. Azrael content to get that story here and now. This Hunter certainly didn't look like that suspected shooter and yet maybe he knew him all the same. The man waiting (somewhat) patiently now for one or the other to answer.