closed starter for @eternally-masked
“Can you hurry up?”
“Would you like to scan this?”
“I could probably do a better job than you.” The Tangled Shore was the last place Aiden wanted to be today. But it just so happens that he’s looking for a very specific nightclub here, one he’s hopping to find a certain fallen the Spider has alerted him too.
The hunter is waiting by a terminal, letting his ghost get to work and keeping his bow at the ready. The fallen will probably come crawling in once they catch scent of them rooting around in their files.
“Aiden-”
“Shh.” Aiden’s caught a sound. His ghost finishes up the scan, then, thankfully, quickly dematerializes. Sure enough, as expected, the furry mains of the fallen appear just outside of the buildings they’re hiding in. Lucky for the hunter, where he’s hiding gives him some time to get to a better vantage point. It’s the times like these where he wishes he brought some better guns.
Oh well. What’ the worst than can happen?
Fane dislikes the Tangled Shore. Perhaps dislikes is a bit too mild. He doesn’t hate it, that’s for sure. There are much less hospitable environs than some cobbled together space rocks in which various ne’er do wells nest. No. The Tangled Shore is only an...inconvenience and its calculating kingpin isn’t much better.
When the increase in Guardian presence offered a more open avenue to the Shore, only then did Fane deign to approach the Spider for answers to his peculiar condition. He should have known that Spider would give him some task that would be at best, greatly tedious or a waste of his skills or at worst, something nigh impossible for someone that proved to be more mortal.
He wasn’t far off. The target Spider tasked him with finding leaned a bit more towards the nigh impossible. After two weeks of fruitless hunting, he’d taken to patrolling the well worn tracks looking for someone of appropriately shady caliber to help him. When his Ghost informed him of some nearby Hunter also working for their mutual many-armed accomplice, he chose instead to approach one of the Tower’s as opposed to remain cryptic and out of sight.
Fane only notices the pair of vandals when one pokes its head out to lock wire rifle sights on him. He certainly doesn’t notice when he waves a gloved hand in their direction, opening a precise singularity that reduces the two to a smattering of quarks.
“Hunter, is it?” he addresses the myriad of hiding spots, “I believe we have the same employer. Might I be so bold as to propose a...tit for tat to be so crude?”
