#thread ( wraith )

[rubiesintherough]

@bysk1ppy --- cont. from here

Wraith didn't have much patience for the indignation... there wasn't time to stop and explain the incoming danger. He ignored the swat. And raised his hand again, motioning for the other man to be quiet. And hand snapped, then, to point down the hallway and toward the approaching, stomping threat.

[rubiesintherough]

@neverhangd --- cont. from here

Enough time. He'd given the man hours to show himself. But, Wraith assumed he was a coward... they all were, hiding themselves away in fear. The assassin stalked through halls. Gun rested against his chest, finger hovered above trigger and itched to pull it.

He'd given the monster a chance at honor. Now, he'd be put down in his own bed... Silent footfalls carried him forward and hand reached to softly creak the door open. Barrel raised, ready to fire. And he paused. The smell of blood reached him just as quick as the sight of it, splattered and staining the ridiculous finery. And among the remnants of violence... his gaze raked across her. Gun lowered. It'd seem she'd done his work for him.

[rubiesintherough]

@kcntsugii --- cont. from here

His gaze raked over her, every inch, looking for any sign that she was moving strangely... any indication that she was one of those creatures. They'd gotten through here before. And the soldiers were useless. Hadn't done a damn thing the last time one of those monsters was wandering through these dank, run-down alleys...

Her assurances were met with cold skepticism. Anyone would lie. But, she was right about one thing: they needed to get out of sight, or they'd both be in trouble. Pathetic as the guards were in dealing with the real threats, in Wraith's experience, they wouldn't miss a chance to flex their violent muscles when it came to the residents here. He jerked his gun, using it to motion. Not a sound from him, aside from the slight scuffle of his boot on concrete, but there were no words needed to convey the meaning, ' Move. That way. '

[rubiesintherough]

@expcrimcnt001 --- cont. from here

Wouldn't have been the first time he'd almost died from startling someone... Wraith had to admit, that would be a funny way to finally go out. Not a fight to the death. Not the brutal life, itself. Just being too quiet and spooking an ally.

He gave a quick nod of apology. His own gun held at his side, fingers shifting back and forth across metal, the feel of it helping his thoughts align, forming plans. " Where are they? " Not another sound of life besides them... hadn't heard one in a while. Maybe the coast was clear? Surely they couldn't be that lucky.

[rubiesintherough]

@1batch2batch --- cont. from here

Wraith had long since learned he wasn't the only one removing the garbage from the city streets. There were multiple times he'd planned a hit, only to discover the corrupt scum's blood was already painting the walls before he set off to take care of business. He just hadn't expected his path to cross with this other mysterious assassin's. But, he wasn't about to begrudge this stranger his right to some target practice, either... two guns were better than one.

The flashing of gunfire illuminated the dimly lit corners of this grungy hideaway. Bodies met the floor, one after another, the smell of blood and gunpowder mingling into a stench he was disturbingly familiar with. And it wasn't until the final threat had been dealt with that Wraith finally turned fully toward his fellow hitman, and let his weapon lower toward the floor.

Gloved hand rose, forming words best he could to be seen through the smoke, ' You don't shoot me, I won't shoot you. Deal? '

[rubiesintherough]

@settinqsuns --- cont. from here

It was far from the first time he'd been incapacitated like this during a hit... but, it had been a long, long while since it'd been severe enough to prevent him from stumbling --- or even crawling --- his way back to his apartment and cleaning himself up. Here he was, sat in an alley. Back to a filthy wall, unable to move, staining the already dirty concrete under him a deep crimson... and fully expecting for someone with a grudge to come by and finish him off.

So, when the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears, Wraith steeled himself for another blazing, ripping pain... only for a familiar face to come around the corner instead. And the concern on said features prompted him to scrawl that first message, slowly fallowed by another at the question posed: ' Shot. In the leg. I'll survi - ' Word cut off mid-writing. A frown --- beyond pain --- stretched across the assassin's features at Elio's sudden, unexpected offer... one that didn't make sense, and seemed too good to be true. But, when did Wraith have anything to lose?

Pencil met paper, again. ' Ok. You can. '

[rubiesintherough]

@vvaywardhunter --- cont. from here

His eyes stung at the sudden, blinding flood of light, but his gaze remained fixed firmly on the stranger --- also armed, Wraith noticed quick --- now looking over the grisly scene he'd only recently stumbled on.

For an instant, he assumed this was the beast responsible returning to admire it's work... the glinting blade in the other man's hand further proof of that. But, killers who took pride in violence didn't usually look so disturbed by it. And the stranger's brief wince wasn't missed by Wraith.

Vampires. Normally, he'd think that was impossible. But, seeing the carnage here, it made it a lot more believable... Hadn't seen any human do something like this, even in the most brutal, inhospitable parts of his home. ( " What are you doing here, then? " ) It was a fair question. Wraith didn't owe him a full answer, though. Not yet. Not until he knew more, himself. Hands raised to form the words, ' Looking for someone. Found this. '

[rubiesintherough]

@iamthexweapon --- cont. from here

The thud of his target meeting pavement was a satisfying one. Another job done. He rarely missed. And, slowly, his gaze turned from the limp form toward his apparent audience. For a moment, he expected violence, or panic, of even just fear. But, the stranger seemed strangely calm when he spoke, save for the raised volume.

Avenger. The word only held peripheral meaning to Wraith... he'd heard of them, but never paid it all much attention. He had enough to worry about. And they'd never been an issue for him, never bothered him, never stopped him from doing his work. Never thought he'd ever run into any of them.

One hand rose to gesture over his chest, ' Sorry '. Mildly apologetic for the discomfort he'd caused. Gun draped, with practiced skill, over one arm so he could form the next words, ' Had a job to do. '