blowout | ⊱ PETER HALE

We'll find you. You can't run forever.

[ he knows you're in here. somewhere. chris' scent is all over that piece of paper; it's almost bait, in a way. it would take any werewolf to notice, but peter—the alpha—is the intended recipient. come out, come out, wherever you are... ]

[ peter nearly tracks the hunter-- the argent-- home that night, feels his teeth lengthen and itch with the need to bite. but no. no, nothing rash. they invade his territory-- he'll invade theirs. ]

Bring it, as the saying goes.

[ and now, he waits. ]

[ when he receives that note, chris almost sees red, but he'd known it was inevitable the moment they'd moved into this town; his home, a target. his family. but the letter's to him, a return invitation, and he takes it as one.

he also takes his mossberg and desert eagle when he drives the van out to the edge of the forest.

the other hunters know exactly where he is; they're on speed-dial in case anything happens, even though they'd be too late if it came to that. chris isn't chalking this ghost meeting up to an emergency just yet, and he's almost certain he won't need to, not if the alpha's response is anything to go by. it might be a stupid move, but if he can wrangle a conversation—a face—out of this, then he'll have accomplished what he set out to do. know thy enemy.

so he starts in to where he'd left his first note, shotgun at his side. his scent, leather and gunpowder, should be the only introduction he needs. ]

[ either this hunter is stupid or very, very good-- these woods aren't his place, and he actually comes alone. he smells wary, heartbeat steady and alert but not fast. he's not terrified, so maybe that is a vote for stupid. ]

Don't they teach hunters manners anymore?

[ shifting makes it easy to perch high up, out of line of sight but close enough his growl is easy to hear. ]

[ oh, he's good, but he's also throwing caution to the wind. usually, that makes for a bad combination. some might even call it stupid.

his fingers tighten on the mossberg, but he doesn't raise it, just flicks his eyes around him to pinpoint the source of the nearly subvocal greeting. ]

I'd say this is the most polite encounter you've had so far.

[ his voice is low, deep, steady, but there's no mistaking the tenseness to his posture—feet planted firmly, shoulders taut. it's near-pitch dark and he can't see by the light of the moon, or by the white of the creeping fog, but he's still aware, like any good hunter should be. patient and calm. for the most part. ]

[ a chuckle sounds particularly sinister filtered through the wolf's voice, and peter isn't exactly attempting to make himself seem unthreatening. ]

Yes, that would be sarcasm rearing its head again.

[ he inhales, deeply, then holds still as possible, rolling the scents over his tongue and learning them all. stupid or not, this hunter is on his radar now, and he wants to know every little detail of the pieces that make up his scent, know where he's been and smell him coming. ]

Was there something you wanted? [ it unnerves most of the hunters peter's met to make conversation with a wolf, but this one doesn't budge or start screaming dramatically about animals. it doesn't mean much, but at least it breaks the self-righteous monotony. ]

[ the corner of chris' mouth turns up, echoing the dry humor, with only the barest hint of disgust. no shit. ]

You can see me, but I can't see you. That's no way to treat a guest.

[ show yourself is the unspoken request, infused with a little more of that sahara-dry argent sarcasm. it's not an answer to the alpha's question, but it's not an evasion, either. his eyes narrow, but now he's got them straight ahead; if this wolf doesn't want himself found in the dark in his own damn territory, there's no point in looking. they'll speak when chris has something to focus on. ]

A guest is usually invited. You invaded my home, Mr. Argent. I didn't invite you in.

[ he jumps down, darting four feet away, then once again, and again, until he's behind a larger tree until he decides whether it's worth it to see what the hunter wants. ]

I could do the same, you know. Slip into your living room one night with a gun and see how much you feel like talking peacefully.

[ chris fights hard not to flinch up into a defensive position, hold the shotgun and pump a round into the werewolf before it can get away again. it's difficult to stay still, stay open and vulnerable like this—and his heart jumps, his breath coming in slightly faster increments. the adrenaline is making him hyper-aware, and as much as he manages to contain his outward appearance, he can't hide completely.

it's thrilling. ]

You wouldn't need a gun. [ that retort is a little harder than the rest, but still infuriatingly steady. a muscle clenches in his jaw. ]

Those murders. [ because that's what they are. ] They're not random, are they.

Need, no. But you all like them so much, why not see what the appeal is?

[ he smells that acrid tang of excitement, not hardly unaware of the danger he's in but drawn to it all the same.

hunters. self-righteous adrenaline junkies, the lot of them. ]

Those acts of retribution. [ he mocks argent's tone. ] They're not your concern, not yet.

Edited 2012-07-11 20:03 (UTC)

Oh, I beg to differ. [ his tone makes it clear he's not actually begging, and never will. ]

They're very much my [ our ] concern. Especially if they're revenge killings.

[ thanks for that little tidbit, by the way. acts of retribution. now he has a motive—with no context, no discovered link, but that just means he'll have to dig a little deeper. maybe kate'll know something about it. ]

Not yet you aren't. [ everyone begs. peter begged, howled to a fire that couldn't even understand him. kate argent can beg, next. ]

Revenge is petty. I said retribution, which is an entirely different animal.

[ peter hale's in the hospital, burned and comatose. it makes this a little less dangerous, makes him a little more willing to even talk to the hunger at all.

...maybe they'll even think it's derek. ] Hunters. Always so black and white.

⊱ PETER HALE

LETTER ♚ pinned to a tree in the forest, with a side order of hot dad

LETTER ♚ left under yo' welcome mat

ACTION ♚ WHEN PAPA ARGENT MET UNCLE BADTOUCH, doo doo doo doo

ACTION ♚ ... h e l p now i am imagining the brady theme around these two marrying idek

ACTION ♚ um FUND IT i would actually watch the crap out of that.

ACTION ♚ this is the stoooooory of a batshit werewoooooolf

ACTION ♚ who was creeping on the jailbait he'd just turned!

ACTION ♚ ...HELP I CAN'T STOP GIGGLING

ACTION ♚ RIGHT?

ACTION ♚ ftr there's more of them on a03 now EXPAND, LITTLE TAG! EXPAND! (...that's what she said.

ACTION ♚ sob y e s i will read ALL OF IT. also i have been browsing them on tumblr. it's bad.

ACTION ♚ MORE PLZ TUMBLR their dumb faces /chinhands