(Just as an aside before I begin, I will be posting into this as an in-progress story and anyone that feels so inclined can just go right ahead and post without asking me. Please be patient and courteous if you see others posting in, but otherwise just have fun. Also, in this I expect there will be story, a lot of fighting, and very little, if any, erp of any sort. Feel free to try, no really, but expect to be shot down and possibly just plainly shot. Now it's up to you to make sure that you're not just DOA. Multiple takers welcome!)
Ah, rain. Rain was a delightful thing, always so peaceful and pleasant whether it was a simple sprinkle or a raging downpour. Rain had a way of setting the scene, really, and that scene could be anything from a young romance blooming in a park or field of daisies, to a poetic surrender on the field of battle back in the days of knights and kings. Rain could herald so much; perhaps that, more than anything else, was why William loved it so, and why he always smiled when the heavy drops began falling on the reinforced glass of his trusty old car's windshield. The simple sound of rain meeting glass, metal, and pavement always put him at ease like nothing else could short of his mate's warm embrace, it always cleared his mind of any worries and offered him a respite from the darker places his thoughts often tended to tread. What a lovely day.
Blinking lightly as the first drops fell and hit him squarely between the ears, the aged wolf rose from the driver's seat and gently eased the door shut behind him. The scene around him, that of a wonderfully large and intricate city, brought a small smile to his worn features, one that spoke of plans upon plans and more than a little experience running from pursuers through similar scenes in the past. Though, if he was honest, he was often the one doing the chasing. In moments he opened the rear passenger door and pulled out a long black bag, hefting it over his shoulder as he closed up and locked his car. The package was somewhat unwieldy, but he had often carried it before. Watching the Teana's lights flash once before pocketing the key, the wolf strode calmly around its front end and straight towards the back entrance of a tall apartment building; his bare feet were already splashing softly in the few puddles that had appeared, adding yet more feeling to the delightful weather. It was almost disappointing for him to leave the calm ambiance of the brewing storm outside, especially given how dim and mechanically dreary the fairly ancient building's interior was. Tan walls covered in gaudy wallpaper, fake wood molding, and a visible haze in the air that spoke of more than one smoker in the building's population. The wolf had to stop himself from growling in disgust at how poorly the historical structure had been treated by its owners over the years, and his climb up the building's single, grimy, staircase only gave him more time to reflect on its condition. Despicable, really.
The climb took all of five minutes for him to reach the top, narrowly avoiding the path of a young woman that appeared to be cleaning rooms several floors below. Though he did feel more than obligated to offer her a gentle smile. It was a quiet day, that was for sure, but that was, in its own way, a blessing. Time to reflect, time to think, and no noise to distract William's concentration. Really, what more could he ask for? Upon reaching the stair's final flight and then, several steps later, the roof itself, William actually let out an audible sigh. It was a pleased sound, the sound that only a man satisfied with life's twists and turns made. In seconds he had surveyed the city around him and picked out the side of the building that was most appropriate for his purposes, striding quickly over to the lip of the roof as he checked the watch on his wrist. Five past four in the afternoon. Excellent, he needn't hurry then. Hoping his informant's tip wasn't incorrect, if it was someone was going to get their hide tanned, the white furred wolf knelt down and unshouldered his bag, quickly yet calmly unzipping it to reveal the precision instrument within. Lovingly cleaned and oiled as it was, William couldn't help but indulge in a tiny grin as he hefted the old H&K rifle. Though it had served him well for years, it was a slightly older model, but, then, so was he. They were, in that way, a perfect match. Old didn't mean faulty, after all.
Lightly humming to himself as he brought the rifle to his shoulder, William took careful stock of the scope's dials, ranged it on a water tower several miles away to check its clarity, and then sat it snug in the crook of his arm. It was a process he had been through many times before, and would be through many times in the future if he had any say in the matter. Once again the rain offered him a sense of peace, almost of fulfillment, as he tilted his head and aimed the old weapon towards the window of a building across the street. Floor six, third room from the East, a man that had angered the wrong people and kept far too regular a schedule stood in front of a solitary window as though a noble surveying his tiny corner of a larger kingdom. It was eerily peaceful as William's mind slowed, his heart rate fell, and he let out a long, low, breath, his right index finger slowly but firmly squeezing the tight trigger until, with a solid click, the silenced rifle spat out a single lead FMJ. It was truly a beautiful day.
Ah, rain. Rain was a delightful thing, always so peaceful and pleasant whether it was a simple sprinkle or a raging downpour. Rain had a way of setting the scene, really, and that scene could be anything from a young romance blooming in a park or field of daisies, to a poetic surrender on the field of battle back in the days of knights and kings. Rain could herald so much; perhaps that, more than anything else, was why William loved it so, and why he always smiled when the heavy drops began falling on the reinforced glass of his trusty old car's windshield. The simple sound of rain meeting glass, metal, and pavement always put him at ease like nothing else could short of his mate's warm embrace, it always cleared his mind of any worries and offered him a respite from the darker places his thoughts often tended to tread. What a lovely day.
Blinking lightly as the first drops fell and hit him squarely between the ears, the aged wolf rose from the driver's seat and gently eased the door shut behind him. The scene around him, that of a wonderfully large and intricate city, brought a small smile to his worn features, one that spoke of plans upon plans and more than a little experience running from pursuers through similar scenes in the past. Though, if he was honest, he was often the one doing the chasing. In moments he opened the rear passenger door and pulled out a long black bag, hefting it over his shoulder as he closed up and locked his car. The package was somewhat unwieldy, but he had often carried it before. Watching the Teana's lights flash once before pocketing the key, the wolf strode calmly around its front end and straight towards the back entrance of a tall apartment building; his bare feet were already splashing softly in the few puddles that had appeared, adding yet more feeling to the delightful weather. It was almost disappointing for him to leave the calm ambiance of the brewing storm outside, especially given how dim and mechanically dreary the fairly ancient building's interior was. Tan walls covered in gaudy wallpaper, fake wood molding, and a visible haze in the air that spoke of more than one smoker in the building's population. The wolf had to stop himself from growling in disgust at how poorly the historical structure had been treated by its owners over the years, and his climb up the building's single, grimy, staircase only gave him more time to reflect on its condition. Despicable, really.
The climb took all of five minutes for him to reach the top, narrowly avoiding the path of a young woman that appeared to be cleaning rooms several floors below. Though he did feel more than obligated to offer her a gentle smile. It was a quiet day, that was for sure, but that was, in its own way, a blessing. Time to reflect, time to think, and no noise to distract William's concentration. Really, what more could he ask for? Upon reaching the stair's final flight and then, several steps later, the roof itself, William actually let out an audible sigh. It was a pleased sound, the sound that only a man satisfied with life's twists and turns made. In seconds he had surveyed the city around him and picked out the side of the building that was most appropriate for his purposes, striding quickly over to the lip of the roof as he checked the watch on his wrist. Five past four in the afternoon. Excellent, he needn't hurry then. Hoping his informant's tip wasn't incorrect, if it was someone was going to get their hide tanned, the white furred wolf knelt down and unshouldered his bag, quickly yet calmly unzipping it to reveal the precision instrument within. Lovingly cleaned and oiled as it was, William couldn't help but indulge in a tiny grin as he hefted the old H&K rifle. Though it had served him well for years, it was a slightly older model, but, then, so was he. They were, in that way, a perfect match. Old didn't mean faulty, after all.
Lightly humming to himself as he brought the rifle to his shoulder, William took careful stock of the scope's dials, ranged it on a water tower several miles away to check its clarity, and then sat it snug in the crook of his arm. It was a process he had been through many times before, and would be through many times in the future if he had any say in the matter. Once again the rain offered him a sense of peace, almost of fulfillment, as he tilted his head and aimed the old weapon towards the window of a building across the street. Floor six, third room from the East, a man that had angered the wrong people and kept far too regular a schedule stood in front of a solitary window as though a noble surveying his tiny corner of a larger kingdom. It was eerily peaceful as William's mind slowed, his heart rate fell, and he let out a long, low, breath, his right index finger slowly but firmly squeezing the tight trigger until, with a solid click, the silenced rifle spat out a single lead FMJ. It was truly a beautiful day.
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