[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/311146589613719567/412467871990546472/tanner_icon.png[/img][/center] [i]I’m a new soul, I came to this strange world, hoping I could learn a bit about how to give and take.[/i] Tanner took a drag off his cigarette, his boots thumping against the stone floor of the cavern. The ember glowed a little brighter as he inhaled, illuminating the cave walls in spiraling orange. Skypiercer was loose in his left hand, occasionally flicking left and right in easy swipes to swat away smaller Grimm. He came by a side passage, the tromp of his boots pausing as he looked down it--the marks of tooling were obvious on the sides, not a natural cave like the rest of this place. He took one more drag off his cigarette, glancing down as it reached the filter. The Hunter rolled his eyes, throwing it on the ground and grinding it out on the stone floor. These things always took too long. And knowing his luck, they’d get dragged out yet longer by whatever stupidity they had planned for him at the end of this tunnel. [i]But since I came here, felt the joy and the fear, found myself making every possible mistake.[/i] He hummed softly as he continued on, his eyes glowing softly red. The pack of cigarettes found their way out of his pocket, one carefully extending and sticking in the corner of his mouth. He didn’t light it yet--no reason to spook his prey of sorts. He’d read the file on this mess--usual stuff, in all honesty, bunch of kooky people who had gathered around some Grausam class Grimm and were worshipping it. Ordinarily that was a self-rectifying issue--Grimm cared about as much for their human and Faunus allies as they did for their enemies--but these particular loons had found an Infernal Argus. Which was an issue. Because the damn thing was likely to just sit there and sleep until something irritated it, at which point it would become a Horrible Problem. And cultists had a way of being irritating. [I]La-la la la, la-la-la-la la la[/i] Another pause in the steady procession of his boots, a slight glow coming from down the hall. His eyes flicked up to the ceiling of the cavern, Skypiercer following his gaze to the apex and knocking some dirt free-- Conduit. Fairly cleverly hidden under a dirty part of the ceiling, but once you’ve been to one evil cult cave hideout you’ve been to them all. Also helps when you have such an intimate familiarity with the leader of a particular band. A click and his blade started to hum with electricity, then stabbed the cable-- And it all went dark. *** William Essersmit was not having the best of days. Cult Security Breach #4 had happened, and by the looks of things this might be the last one. He’d gotten word through the usual channels that Beacon was sending some kind of Grimm expert out to deal with their little operation, and while that was easily enough dealt with… You didn’t kill a Hunter and remain inconspicuous. Now that selfsame Hunter had managed to find their hideout and shut off the power with disturbing ease. It was no matter. They had backup lighting and power would be back online as soon as the others could get the generator started. The Argus stood far behind him, motionless, their offerings heaped at its feet. The Hunter couldn’t be allowed to kill it while it slept, nor awaken it before the prophesied day. The red glow of lighting didn’t really reach into the tunnel, William’s eyes straining to make out the form of the Hunter he knew had to be coming--he could hear the [i]thump, thump, thump[/i] of boots. Then it stopped, and a flame flickered to life in the tunnel, illuminating a man’s face, his eyes glowing red as he lit a cigarette, taking a single draw off of it while he put his lighter away, a grin coming to his face. “I don’t suppose we could talk this out? I’d like to share the good word with ya, William.” Essersmit was already in motion, his blade cleaving out for the Hunter’s neck, arm, side--and was met with a calm bend backward, step to the side, and deflection with the other man’s spear, each looking almost lazy and tired. “Figures. Didn’t think you’d go for it, but still had to try.” Tanner’s spear leapt up, its tip diving for William’s chest, twisting to the side as he tried to pivot away, the tip flaring to life with a concussive blast and slamming into his flesh-- His Aura rose to meet it-- [i]”No, Will!” his sister’s voice called out, as the Griever ripped into her--[/i] --and shattered, the blade piercing him deep. He fell to his knees on the cave floor, looking up with a snarl at the other man. To his surprise, the Hunter didn’t finish him, looking out across the cave, the glow of his eyes intensifying. “Think my friend’ll take care of the rest of your little band o’ heathens. Can’t beat all of you at once, you know.” A terrible grinding sound echoed through the cave, making the spatter of feet cease--and the Argus began to move. Its battle axe arose from the cave floor, light gleaming off the wicked edge. Then the screams started. Stopped. The grinding came closer. And closer. And stopped. *** Tanner puffed again, looking up at the imposing monster of metal and hate looming over him, the eviscerated corpse of the cultist--William Essersmit, the file said--below it, providing a gruesome cushion for its horrible blade. He hated dealing with Argus, on the whole--he couldn’t really control them, just wake them up, calm them down a bit, and make them unconscious of his presence. Luckily, this one seemed fairly young. He started to hum again as he turned away and walked back down the tunnel, pausing once he reached daylight once more, his eyes looking over the assorted explosives he’d set at the entrance. Now that he knew where the Argus was, he could be certain it wouldn’t be disturbed by an explosion of the size he was intending. His fingers grasped the cigarette, lighting the fuse on the initial charge as he walked away. A series of explosions rocked the cave entrance, sealing it forever. Sure, an electronic detonator might be more practical. But you’d lose the style points. *** Back at Beacon, the tromping of boots met linoleum floors. Mission complete. Tanner stuck his hands in his coat pockets, looking up at the ceiling of the hall. Was odd he didn’t have to turn anything in this go round--normally he’d have something for Port. Still, he couldn’t complain. Less complicated, the better, especially for something that wasn't a usual mission. He was less “catch the bad guy”, more “catch the cool critter for class.” Damn, he wish that Essersmit guy had been willing to talk. Introspection was only good for so long, then you wanted a conversation partner.