sound the alarm [elmo]

[KENNEDY NYOTA GARDNER]

It never ceased to amaze her when she managed a kill on one of her hunts. Of course, they were less frequent now than they had been at one point in her life, but she was a different person now than she was back then. The Montgomery's teachings still held strong and made her a lethal weapon with her sharp body and sharp mind, along with a number of valuable skills that she'd honed just like the razor sharp edge of the Bowie knife she carried in a holster on her hip, tucked just underneath the leather jacket she wore. It was a surprisingly cool night for summer, and she looked down at the body near her feet – a shifter, transforming back into a very nude male figure as he continued to bleed out from the throat. When she first approached him that evening, he had been a cougar. Now, Kennedy didn't have the same taste for killing supernaturals since she was convinced that they were a superior species, no matter the species, from humans – but that was jealousy and bitterness talking; Kennedy had always wanted to be 'special.'

She would leave the body there for the other wolves and creatures that hunted these grounds – it was of no purpose to her now, and there was no way that a slit throat could be traced back to her blade. Her work was clean, efficient, and she knew that the majority of hunters in this town had ties to law enforcement anyway. Which was another reason for her to watch her back – when she was going to betray them, they'd all be after her, unless her 'friends' on the darker side of the world got to them first, which was the plan. However, not all plans worked out, so Kennedy knew as she continued to infiltrate their ranks, she'd need some sort of contingency plan or assistance, even though she hated asking for help. Kennedy had been on her own for three years now, ever since she had to part ways with her brother after he got turned into a vampire just to cover her own ass. AJ was the only person that she missed every single day, because she'd never needed anyone else. She hated to admit it, but the hunter knew that another ally would be useful, if she could but bring herself to trust someone.

Right when she was about to leave her kill, Kennedy heard a rustling in the bushes. She grabbed her gun and aimed, both eyes open, finger poised on the trigger. She knew that werewolves were common in this area, so the gun was loaded with hand-poured silver bullets. Even if it wasn't a werewolf, they still packed a wallop. ”You're not sneaky, whoever you are. I hear you. Get the fuck out of there,” Kennedy growled, waiting for something to charge at her and get blown away. The bushes quivered, like something was debating movement, but she stayed locked in her position. Kill or be killed. Always her motto. ”I'm giving you to the count of three, and then I'm putting a bullet in your brain. One,” she began counting, knowing that one way or another, this would end quickly.

OUTFIT: Here!

[/justify]

[ELMO ASHLEY TRACE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #000000; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #8904B1 solid; border-bottom: 10px #8904B1 solid;] there's hell over me ( WORDS ) 655 ( TAGGED ) SEAJAY/KENNEDY ( STATUS ) COMPLETE It was an absolute miracle that the hunters had decided to send him on another mission instead of banning him from going hunting, like the last time he had failed. Which was why Elmo was out that night, though, of all the things he could be, he was rather distracted. By a certain person. Ironically, a supernatural, and a male, no less. Bazley Gaspard Calhoun. With those gorgeous, sea green eyes that were always so warm, and that silky dark brown hair he was dying to run his fingers through. Don't even mention the corners of words he's seen beneath the collar of his shirt, the mysterious tattoo something he wanted to see more than anything else. Gah! Stop that! Just because he's single doesn't mean he's into you. Get over yourself, he scolded himself harshly within the expanse of his mind, glancing around the forest in an attempt to settle his thoughts on something, anything, else, just so he could try to focus a little more. The sky is what caught his attention, split into two solid colors; the dark pelt of a black cat dotted with white stars, and a brilliant shade of orange fading into yellow and grey, streaks of purple and even green streaming across the sky. It was beautiful. And the sky was the most amazing aspect of that single lonely night. The sun cowering behind the horizon, a flash of orange fighting off the eery darkness of the shadows, purple and green cavalry streaking by like a flash to keep the perimeter under control, but every beautiful thing has its end, and the sunset's was the creeping black nothingness of night. The words automatically filled the young boy's mind at the magnificent sight, storing the description in his photographic memory for later, when he would return home, and to a probably worried Michie. He'd sit down, pick up his notebook and pencil, and work for a solid hour on a short story, or even begin a chapter of a short novel. Just the knowledge that it wouldn't be long until he finished this stupid task and could go home, home.. He loved that word. Loved belonging somewhere. It made him feel so safe. Wanted. Loved. Somewhere to return after a failure, someone that didn't judge him. It was so nice. Nice enough, in fact, that Elmo ended up stuck in a particularly wonderful daydream. One where Bazley would ask him out, where Michie would be totally accepting of him being with a supernatural, where everything was just right. It was ruined by the sudden rustling, hazel eyes flashing in the shadows as he stumbled into some bushes, having not been paying attention to where he was going or why. Thank goodness no one-- The sound of a harsh snarl interrupted his thoughts, head snapping to the side suddenly as he dropped down into a crouch, a deer-in-headlights look crossing his young features. He took a tentative step backwards, wondering if he could just run, hand straying to his back pocket where his silver dagger resided, fingers curling around the grip nervously. Then he was threatened, the voice saying that they would shoot him if he didn't show himself. Elmo didn't like the option, and allowed his hands to drop back to his sides as he cautiously crept to the edge of the foliage. It was a woman. Seemingly just a human. Or a hunter, since regular humans wouldn't show their face around here. He stood, steps carful and hesitant as he approached, making sure she could see his empty palms at all times. The young hunter swallowed a few times, deciding that he wouldn't stutter, would force his voice to work right. At least as well as he could. "D-Don't shoot." He almost cursed under his breath, though caught himself; he didn't like to swear, no matter how freaking frustrating he was to himself. "I.. I'm a hunter, too, like you, yeah?" OUTFIT: HERE NOTES: N/A

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by pierce the veil

[KENNEDY NYOTA GARDNER]

Hunting had a way of getting the blood flowing that nobody and nothing else could touch. Even sex, which was something she enjoyed quite a bit. Granted, her way of going about sex was different than most – she liked to be the top of the food chain at all times, whenever possible, and valued her control and independence even in the constraints of an act that should have been more of a 'group effort.' In some ways, Kennedy was one of the baddest bitches around, at least in her mind, and hated when anyone dared to challenge that. It was part of the reason why she liked to choose men that were 'womanizers' and 'man whores,' just to show them what it was like on the bottom for a change. Get what she wanted, get her kicks, and leave them high and dry. Perhaps this would be considered a cruel practice to some, but for her, it was just another outlet.

Even though her mindset had changed, Kennedy still took pride in her hunting expertise and just getting out in nature. There was something powerful about feeling like a predator even though some of the beasts that roamed the moonlit forest were technically far more powerful than she was in her human form. The tattoo on her hip, newly inked and finally healed, had been augmented with magic thanks to a very special witch with a talent for the stuff, and she was grateful for that – her already impressive strength had been nearly doubled, which made her far stronger than just about any other human. That, plus her training? She'd been at this game for more than ten years, and now she finally, finally felt like the predatory being that she had always wanted to be. Kennedy looked forward to the day when everything she'd planned with AJ would be put into place and she'd be able to join her brother as a vampire and shed the mortal coil, so to speak, but that day wasn't today.

As she stalked through the foliage and the tree covering, sunset on her back, the hunter only took a moment to enjoy the colors and the changing from day to night before she was approached. Well, the better word for it would be 'stalked,' but she had been tracking this particular cougar anyway. It wasn't a cougar, of course, not the in the biological sense – no, it was a shifter. A light side shifter, which was really all she hunted anymore, because it wouldn't do her any good to subtract beings from her own side. Neutral creatures weren't safe from her, either, although she did occasionally take the time to try to convert them to her way of thinking or get someone else to do it. If they weren't willing to change, well then... they'd end up like the shifter did. Dead, at the end of her blade, within moments. Hardly a fight.

The sound of rustling in the bushes caught her attention, but Kennedy wasn't one to play games. Whether it was a shifter or something else, she'd have to neutralize it – one way or the other. Quickly, she drew her weapon, aimed, and demanded in no short order that the person or thing make its presence known. Her skin was practically itching for another fight, for a chance to unload some of her fancy bullets into a living, breathing target, but when a little boy crawled out of the bushes and showed her his empty hands, palms up, she cocked an eyebrow. Really? The kid looked like he was going to piss his pants, and then what he said actually made her laugh, a low rumble in her chest. 'Like her?' As if. ”You're a hunter? Whatcha huntin', little boy? Squirrels?” Kennedy lowered her weapon a little, knowing that if he did try something, she'd be able to overtake him easily. ”Don't tell me that you think you're an actual hunter, like you go after beasties like that or something.”

Kennedy bit her bottom lip, obviously sizing him up and even more obviously not impressed with what she saw. ”Also, a little bit of free advice – don't compare yourself to me when you look like you want to cry and piss yourself simultaneously,” she said. Yeah, she was mean. Bitchy. But that worked for her. ”What's your name, big bad?”

[/justify]

[ELMO ASHLEY TRACE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #000000; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #8904B1 solid; border-bottom: 10px #8904B1 solid;] there's hell over me ( WORDS ) 605 ( TAGGED ) SEAJAY/KENNEDY ( STATUS ) COMPLETE A hot flush of color fanned out across the boy's cheeks at the woman's harsh words, her icy tone sending shivers down his spine. What a bi-- No, that wasn't nice. He wasn't going to judge anyone he didn't know, much less mentally call her something he wouldn't be proud of saying aloud. Though that didn't mean he wasn't offended, 'cause her words were rather hurtful, even if he's heard them plenty of times before from the other hunters. Elmo was small, he knew that well. Hardly what you'd expect a hunter to look like, And not to mention his obvious lack in physical skills... "N-No.." He could sense that his fidgeting would begin soon, already having the urge to do something with his hands. "I.. I am a hunter." Not a very good one, he added in his mind, averting his blue gaze hastily. The crystal clear look on the woman's face told him that she was not impressed by what she saw, feeling his cheeks turn flaming red as the sky continued to gradually darken. This was so embarrassing! The boy's gaze flickered to the dead body on the ground not too far away, grateful that he couldn't see the blood that he knew was there. He didn't like killing. Taking away someone's life without their consent was just so repulsive to him, but that was kind of ironic, considering that he was a hunter, after all. I'm just the laughingstock of the hunters, his mind corrected him, looking away from the corpse back to the stranger in front of him, though his gaze kept going back to the gun she held. "O-Okay," Elmo nodded to acknowledge that he had heard her "free advice", recalling the many times he had been berated for not answering, even if the person hadn't been asking him a question. "I'm.. I'm Elmo Trace, ma'am." And thus he prepared for yet another cruel remark, well aware that his name wasn't helping his case any more than his physique did. He looked down at his shoes, which were a pair of combat boots he had borrowed from Michie. They were so out of place on his feet, the intimidating silver spikes on the side were the exact opposite of what he was, but, boy, were they comfortable when he was out attempting to better his skills as a hunter. The young hunter swallowed again, risking a quick glance back up to the woman. "May.. May I ask your name, ma'am?" he asked, treading carefully. If she didn't answer, then it wouldn't be a problem. He wasn't about to argue with someone holding a gun, that was for sure. However, putting a name to this face was quite high on his list of things to do. Despite the fact that this woman was being very rude to him, Elmo felt some odd admiration for her. That was usually normal with most of the other hunters, but he could sense something.. different about her. Like she was stronger, better than all the others, which wasn't difficult to imagine. She looked like she was ready to blow his head to pieces if he so much as took a step forward or backward. Maybe it was that hard glint in her dark eyes, or the way she held herself, confident, as if she knew nothing could take her down. That was definitely admirable, especially because that's what he imagined all hunters should be like, though they could do without that harsh attitude. Not eating must finally be messing with my head, he thought, though he felt perfectly fine, albeit a little hungry, but that wasn't important. OUTFIT: HERE NOTES: N/A

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by pierce the veil

[KENNEDY NYOTA GARDNER]

As Kennedy's eyes continued to wander over the baby 'hunter,' she could tell that she had offended him. It wasn't shocking, really – she was sure that she offended a lot of people because she didn't believe in sugarcoating things just to make other people happy or take the chance that they'd like her more. Really, being liked was never high on Kennedy's list of priorities. It was always more important to be strong, to stay alive, to be a force to be reckoned with and ensure that other people were less likely to interfere with you or yours. Independence, that was also thing she valued greatly, and even though she knew that AJ was watching somewhere, Kennedy missed having her brother at her side. They just couldn't be together for a little while longer, since she still had so much work to do. Eventually, her work would end, and there'd be a much different Manuka for all the supernaturals to run and enjoy themselves in. Hunters wouldn't be as prevalent, with any luck, and law enforcement would likely experience a divide right down the middle. There would be chaos, and for predators, chaos provided some of the best hunting grounds. Kennedy knew that, but even though the runt in front of her claimed to be a hunter, insisted upon it, even, she still laughed in his face – he didn't know the things she knew, couldn't see the world through the eyes of tenacity, brutality, and experience that she held.

”Mhmm. Okay, then. You're a hunter,” her tone still suggested sarcasm and disbelief, but she decided to go with it. If anything, he was a baby hunter who had just gotten started, who still had so much to learn. He was green, new, and when she watched his eyes trail over the body she had left, he turned a little green in another way. Not nauseous, yet, but she bet he couldn't see the blood pooling from where he was, since the corpse had its back turned to him. For a moment, Kennedy debated grabbing him by his shoulder, pulling him over to where she was, so he could see it and smell it and experience what they were supposed to do. Granted, she wasn't a fan of killing all supernaturals anymore – they were superior beings, but this one had been a light sider, completely hopeless to her cause, and therefore, didn't need to live. Kennedy would be a different kind of hunter someday when she became a vampire, but not yet. ”You look a little skittish. How many kills do you have under your belt? Every hunter remembers, at least to some degree. And don't lie. I'm usually pretty fucking good at spotting a lie, and you really don't want to insult me or piss me off.”

The baby hunter took her advice in stride, even a little bit respectfully, which both surprised her and impressed her, but just the tiniest bit. Honestly, she was surprised that she hadn't made him burst into tears and run home to his mama. And just when she thought she'd stopped laughing because of something this kid did, he told her his name. Elmo. ”You're shittin' me, right? Elmo, seriously? Like the muppet?” Kennedy lowered her gun a little bit more, just because he was really nervous, and she was just about done being awful to him. Once upon a time, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery had seen potential in her and her brother and decided to train them. They didn't have to, and she'd be nowhere without their help. She would have been... god, she didn't even know. Hunting was as much part of her life as breathing, and even though it had changed, it was still something that drove her. And if this kid wanted to be a hunter... she really could use someone else looking out for her, if there was any hope for him to be anything other than a scrawny weakling. Which might have been a pretty big 'if.' ”Would you fucking stop with the ma'am? I'm only twenty-five... call me Kennedy.” Then, she put her gun away and crossed her arms. ”Are you new to town? Got anyone good training you?” It'd be a chance, but she never got anywhere by taking chances. And he had one chance to disappoint her – she'd make that very clear.

[/justify]

[ELMO ASHLEY TRACE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #000000; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #8904B1 solid; border-bottom: 10px #8904B1 solid;] there's hell over me ( WORDS ) 671 ( TAGGED ) SEAJAY/KENNEDY ( STATUS ) COMPLETE It was rather difficult for him to gauge how this whole thing was working out, the burning sensation in his cheeks becoming a permanent physical aspect for the time being. Forget that, his blush was always there, no matter what. It was quite irritating, especially because it only gave people more reason to tease him, or not take him seriously. Like now. Well, now wasn't such a good example, but still. This woman with chocolate skin and harsh words still didn't seem to be convinced that the boy was a hunter. Although he knew exactly why she was doubtful, it still hurt, he was offended. This is what he was trying to avoid, but being the worst hunter ever didn't help that cause very much. At the mention of his fidgeting, he froze, muscles tense as his gaze traveled back to the older, more experienced hunter. Yeah, you could say he was skittish. There was a gun pointed at his head, loaded and ready to shatter his skull and kill him. How was Elmo supposed to relax? Her questioning didn't help much, either. "Um.. I.." He looked down at the ground, feeling utterly humiliated. "I d-don't have any kills, ma'am." That should have been clear as day, considering his paled face, voice shaky. He felt a bit more assured that she wouldn't fill him with bullets, but you could never know for sure. For all he knew, this woman could be insane and not really a hunter after all. That was a pretty slim chance, but it was still a chance, no matter how tiny. For the strangest reason, his, dead, older sister came to mind. Whether it was because this situation felt like one of the many fights he's lost to bullies at school or just due to his overwhelming sense of fear and embarrassment, Kit's face still popped into his thoughts, her gentle voice filling his ears. The boy could remember their last conversation; the night he had left to spend the night at his cousin Andy's house. She had said she believed in him, and that he could do anything he set his heart to. Cheesy, overused, but still sweet nonetheless. He wanted to be a better hunter. He didn't want to be a cowardly wimp anymore. Although, almost a year later, none of those goals had been achieved. How pathetic. He was ripped out of his thoughts by the woman's snickers and taunts, his chest aching at the memories it brought back; all those horrid kids making fun of his name, like everyone did. "No.. I... Uh... Yeah," Elmo bit down on his quivering lower lip, and within seconds his teeth broke the sensitive skin and a bitter, iron taste settled on his tongue. "Except, um, he's a p-puppet, not.." It was probably a smart idea to shut that mouth, so he did, suddenly fearful of her reaction to his little correction. However, that feeling didn't last too long, for she lowered her weapon and put it away, an audible sound of relief slipping past the hunter's lips at that. The color began to return to his cheeks, other than that irritating blush, of course. He flinched when she told him to stop the ma'am stuff and call her by her name, having not expected her reaction to be quite like that. "Y-Yes, m-- K-Kennedy," he managed to stammer out, lucky that he had caught himself before calling her ma'am again. Elmo's gaze traveled around aimlessly, feeling skittish again. Why was he still here? Was there a reason as to why he hadn't continued on yet? They met, she knew he was a hunter.. That should have been it, right? Obviously not, for Kennedy went on to ask him another pair of questions, though without all the harsh teasing this time. "Sort of.. Yes. Only been a few months." He forced his hazel gaze back to the woman, determined to try and not look more pathetic than she thought he was by now. "Umm.. No. N-No one is training me, actually." OUTFIT: HERE NOTES: N/A

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by pierce the veil

[KENNEDY NYOTA GARDNER]

Every time she thought she'd get a chance to go easier on this poor, pathetic, baby-faced kid, he ended up telling her something else that was basically perfect cannon fodder for her to ridicule. No kills? And he was a hunter? Kennedy laughed, the noise sounding more like gravel thudding in the back of her throat because it was almost menacing, but not quite. This kid had every reason to be afraid of her, after all, even though she was no immediate threat. Likely, he had seen her take out what had formerly been a shapeshifter, and now was just a lump of dead flesh a few yards from where they were standing. ”No kills? Seriously? And you call yourself a hunter. Little boy, do you have anything that will impress me?” She doubted that he did, and her words held a new sort of venom, like he had been wasting her time. Even though she had basically drug him out of the bushes and interrogated him, still he was on her time clock. Her schedule. Kennedy was strong, and always liked having things her way – and she would make no apologies for the way she behaved. Being independent and her own driven force was as easy as breathing to her, and if someone couldn't accept that, they were either cast aside as worthless, became an enemy, or ended up dead. Simple, really – there was no point in over-complicating things that didn't need it.

People had always told her to watch her temper and be careful of the words she used, because of how harsh they could be. Some people would consider her silver tongued ways to be lethal, just like her weapons, and to her, this wasn't a bad quality. The fact that the boy in front of her – Elmo – was basically shaking in his boots was something to be proud of in her perspective. Because she had caused that, hadn't she? Kennedy had barely even done anything to him but launch a few volleyed words, and he was terrified. Many times she had responded with comments such as 'if it wasn't so fun to be bad, I'd be good' or 'I love the smell of fear in the morning' and that was usually enough to shut people up or be convinced that she was insane. Sometimes, Kennedy wondered if maybe she wasn't a little bit crazy, the way she lusted after blood and fear, and enjoyed making other people wary just by being in her presence. And then, when she wasn't being terrified, she was just downright mean. Case in point, mocking him for his name that reminded her of the red, high-pitched character on Sesame Street. Although that correction? That hint of spine that he showed, through the nerves? It was both infuriating and... sparked hope in her, somehow, that he could be more than just a pitiful creature. Everyone had to start somewhere, after all, and if the Montgomerys hadn't seen potential in her and AJ, she wouldn't be who she was and where she was today. ”Correct me like that again, and I'll have you walking funny for a week, but not in the good way.” Her voice was sharp, like a dog's bite or the snap of a bear trap against unsuspecting appendages that had gotten caught. She could have given him a lot worse, and figured they'd both know that.

Finally deciding that this interaction would need to have some sort of payoff to be worth her precious, expensive time, Kennedy lowered her gun and changed her line of questioning to something more productive. If he didn't have kills, but considered himself to be a hunter, he'd have to have some training, right? Elmo could have been a new hunter – such a thing did exist, and if someone was training him, she wanted to know who it was. The hunters in Manuka all seemed to be fairly capable, and not stupid enough to leave their little trainee out in the woods alone. Kennedy hadn't sensed anyone watching, and her instincts were usually spot on, but then his answer told her everything she needed to know. He was alone, in more than one sense of the word. ”So, let me get this straight... you don't have anyone training you, you've never actually killed anything, and yet you hunt supernatural critters for what? Fun? Vengeance? Did someone fuck with you, and now you wanna go all powerhouse on them when you've got nothing to back it up?” Kennedy asked, not really sharp or mean, just blatantly truthful. She had a way of pointing out the obvious and making it hurt. ”Sounds to me like you've got a death wish, Muppet.” Kennedy crossed her arms and sized him up; he was a little skinny, but she could fix that, but that was all she knew. Then, she smiled wickedly. Reflexes. She could test that.

”Catch,” it was a quick statement, but she was sure he heard it. Then, without another suggestion or hint, Kennedy grabbed her knife and tossed it to him, making sure the handle would be available for him to catch instead of the razor sharp blade... if, of course, he had any instincts or reflexes that would make him worth her time. Otherwise, he'd just get really hurt.

[/justify]

[ELMO ASHLEY TRACE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #000000; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #8904B1 solid; border-bottom: 10px #8904B1 solid;] there's hell over me ( WORDS ) 916 ( TAGGED ) SEAJAY/KENNEDY ( STATUS ) COMPLETE This was humiliating! Standing here, answering what was asked, and then being laughed at for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. Elmo had no kills, had little to no physical strengths, and he had no one even training him. All the older hunters found him pretty much useless, so none really bothered to train properly, which was the most negative impact on his "progress". Then again, he wasn't such a big fan on the killing, the murder, homicide, whatever it was supposed to be called. He shouldn't complain. Well, he doesn't, never has either. He knew how to keep his mouth shut, and that has served him on more than one occasion. Although he couldn't help but want to be better at hunting, even if he believed it to be wrong on all moral levels. As cold as they could be to him, the hunters were all he had left, ever since his family had been brutally massacred by a coven of vengeful vampires. He flinched at the harsh sound of Kennedy's laughter, absently wondering how often she did that. Possibly quite a bit, though he could not imagine her laughing out of joy. More like rude sarcasm, such as now. Correct. Her next words rang in the boy's ears, and he began to nervously fidget again, heart beat picking up at the venomous tone she used with him. At that moment, he sincerely anticipated being shot or having this woman break all his bones. He was wasting her time, and, if he was guessing right or close to it, time was important to this more experienced hunter. She probably had things to do, people to see, supernaturals to kill, and he just so interrupted that last action. Which was awfully stupid of him. If it weren't for that blue-eyed man he couldn't seem to get out of his head... That tiny thought eased the weight if everything for a brief few seconds, the inviting grin filling his mind. Bazley had that odd effect that just made El's heart flutter, but also melt at the same time. Around that man, he was relaxed and skittish as ever. It was amazing how one person, not even one he was particularly close to, could make you feel that way. Absolutely amazing. Of course, all good things mist come to an end, and his luxurious daydreams were crushed abruptly by the threatening, sharp voice of Kennedy. It had him trembling once more, palms growing sweaty as he nodded. "Und-derstood," he gulped, voice shaking as he tripped over his own words in the rush to actually please this woman. He had always been the kind of person that obeyed orders and thought of others before himself because of that craving for praise. Like he could not possibly survive without it. Even Kennedy, this downright rude hunter who couldn't seem to get enough of taunting him, was someone he wanted to please. Especially her, actually. Now, there was pretty much nothing else he wanted to do more than impress her and make the cruel jokes go away. Not that he expected to earn any respect, but maybe, just maybe, he could. That was possible. Right? Then Kennedy appeared to change her mind about damaging his self-esteem further and switched to blatantly asking him questions; all focused on why he was a hunter in the first place. Elmo opened his mouth, the breath already in his lungs to answer the same thing he told all the other hunters; he felt in-debt to them. But that's not what came out. In fact, nothing escaped his lips. A death wish? No. He didn't have a death wish. Maybe he wasn't the happiest person, but he was certain he wasn't depressed. Just insecure and anorexic. The next logical thing to look at was the murders of his father, mother, and beloved sister. He should hate those vampires with a burning passion for killing the only people he had, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Incapable of holding a grudge, no matter how much reason he had to keep one in his heart. Then what? Why was he a hunter? "No, I... I..." The boy had to hold back his tears, averting his gaze in a way that his thick, brown bangs would hide his glittering green eyes. Killing won't bring them back. He knew that well. And there would always be supernaturals killing family after family of humans, so why bother? The answer exited his mouth at once. "There will always be supernaturals in existence, but the least I can do is make them suffer the same way I did." No further explanation. Just that. Having been forced the concentrate on the situation at hand, Elmo easily heard her statement, turning his head to catch the woman's movements. Even if his physical strength didn't add up to much, he could say that he had pretty average reflexes, maybe a little better than most, considering it was more something he developed over years of bullying. It came in handy to dodge the jock's flying fists to avoid another black eye, and although he lost all the fights, he left them all with a lot less injuries than he would have had he not possessed worthwhile reflexes. To put it short, the young hunter caught the knife, the handle grasped firmly in his palm, a trickle of blooding running down his index finger. The pad had slid down the blade where it met the hilt, but nothing serious. OUTFIT: HERE NOTES: N/A

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by pierce the veil

[KENNEDY NYOTA GARDNER]

For the longest time, Kennedy had wondered what had caused the Montgomerys to decide that she and her brother, AJ, were worthy of training. They were two of the best – and oldest – hunters in the world, as far as Kennedy had heard, and were definitely considered to be legends in the right circles within the United States. They just so happened to also be best friends with Kennedy's parents, and when the car wreck had claimed their lives, she and AJ were taken into their care. Her parents didn't have any siblings, her grandparents were dead on both sides, and they had been a good little family unit while it had lasted. AJ remembered more about their real mom and dad more than Kennedy did, because she was so young when it happened, but Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery had become closer to her than her real mom and dad, in a way. So, when their little family unit had crumbled, Kennedy had been heartbroken for a while, but now when she looked back on it, she understood that everything happened for a reason, and she wouldn't have likely been special enough to be 'chosen' by her parents' best friends if she and AJ hadn't grown up in their house. She'd be a completely different person. She wouldn't have the strength that she had, the knowledge of the supernatural world, and whenever she got to thinking about all of that, she realized that her parents' death and the death of her 'brother' Kyle (the Montgomerys' son) had all been for a reason. To make her stronger, and to give her a reason to hunt.

Everyone had a reason, if they were a hunter. Which was probably why she gave the little Muppet such a hard time; he didn't seem to take it seriously, hadn't gone after it with a passion like she had done when she was a kid. The Montgomerys started training them when she was around Elmo's age, and AJ was a few years older, but it was Kyle's death and the explanation about what kind of creature could leave him mangled, torn from limb to limb in a creek that had gotten under her skin and needing to exact blood as rightful vengeance. That, and she knew that she never wanted to be a target. Never wanted to be the victim of some thing that saw humans as anything less than a worthy adversary, and it was Kennedy's goal to make herself that adversary that every supernatural creature that preyed on humans wanted. Now, her mindset had changed – AJ was a vampire, and he had grown stronger than her. Stronger, and yet he wasn't a monster. That had changed everything for Kennedy, because it forced her to stop seeing the things that go bump in the night as faceless monsters, but as truly superior beings to the rest of humankind. And Kennedy always wanted to be 'better.' The reasons behind her hunting had changed, as well as her targets, but she still did it for her own, personal reasons, which was why the 'no kill' confession she'd gotten was like a kick to the head. Seriously?

After she'd threatened him, Elmo had obviously learned his place, and she respected that for someone who likely wasn't used to her brand of cruelty, was taking her merciless teasing and abrasive nature pretty well. He took it in stride while staying respectful instead of mouthing off like a lot of young teenage types would have done. And Kennedy gave him some silent props for that. That was the reason why she had taken an interest in why he had chosen to hunt, and asked the question that he struggled to answer – probably because of how she'd asked, but Kennedy didn't apologize. ”You really think you're making them suffer without actually killing them? You'd be a tasty morsel to most of them, and that's a fact.” For her, that wasn't actually an insult. If she could sense the hesitation and the weakness on Elmo, supers certainly could. Maybe one day she'd figure out the real reasons behind the anger she sensed coming from him (but not toward her, thankfully, or she would have snapped both his legs like toothpicks), but not right then. ”I get what you're saying, though. Someday, they'll probably outnumber humans. But... you're not really helping by doing nothing. If you want to get out there and help cull the population, you gotta put a knife in your hand and get to work, little boy.”

It might have been the fact that he seemed to want to be good at what he'd chosen to do (but hadn't actually done) that made her see something in him. Something that might have been like what Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery had seen in her and her brother. It might have been the fact that Kennedy realized, for a moment, that her big brother was out there living a life without her that made her feel the slightest twinge of loneliness. Kennedy didn't know what it was that made her toss the knife to Elmo to see if he could succeed at even the smallest of tests – reflexes – but she did. And he surprised her by catching it, but made her feel a small hint of pride at the fact that when one of his fingertips scraped the blade, he bled but didn't flinch. ”Not bad. Good to know you're not completely useless. C'mere, Elmo. Bring my knife back to me, and come closer so I can get a look at you when you're not cowering in a corner.” She waited for him to obey, but wouldn't wait long. This, like most things with Kennedy, was another test. But if he passed without completely pissing her off, she might decide to take a young Padawan under her wing.

[/justify]