"Fuck," Tony muttered under his breath. Yeah, Hunter Boy thought this was a walk in and shoot Nemsemet situation, and that was because, like Tony said, Hunters tended to be kept in the dark and fed shit. He gave the woman and her attendant a wide berth as they entered the bunker, even if he did put the Kalashnikov down, he never took the safety off, on the table where the other two lay; a little bit of ammunition alongside. Karram gave him a glance as if to ask if he were 'the client,' and Tony gave a blank look back, even while he found a place to observe the proceedings from, arms folded over his chest and his face masklike in its impassivity as he sat in one of the old metal chairs with the back facing forward. He was not in his comfort zone here, and so he did not offer up a tray of hors d'ouerves or an aperitif.

In all honesty, he was annoyed with Parael just letting this woman and the hunter right in, the latter toting a shotgun full of silver rounds, without even a by-your-leave consultation with the others. Casper was going out to handle it, and she had a certain sort of skill at assessing the situation without having it go confrontational or, important here, exposing them to an unnecessary risk. Even if the city weren't being overrun by Nemsemet and company, Camden wasn't always a place where everyone played nice.

There was no way to say [i]Volunteer nothing[/i] out loud without being very tense about it, but he wanted to shout it so that it bounced off the walls and echo'ed down the hallways because he got the feeling a gossip fest was about to start.