2026-06-15: The Hunt is On
- Cutscene: The Hunt is On
- Cast: Hyousuke Suzuki
- Where: Sumaru, Hirasaka Ward
- OOC Date: 2026-06-15
- IC Date: Sun Nov 25 2012
- Summary: Hyousuke strikes out on his own to hunt down a rumour demon he's been tracking for a while. However, who is the hunter and who is the hunted quickly becomes unclear.
Like thin paints seeping into each other upon a palette, putrid shades of sickly green and bile yellow crept across a land blackened by night. Stars were swallowed, first by the light of the city, and then again by the hues forced upon the sky by supernatural forces. Even the moon itself was not free from the clutches of forces from beyond the veil. What had once been pale and serene had been warped into an icon of putrescence, looming above humanity as streaks of yellow light washed over the landscape below.
Hyousuke ignored it. He ignored all of it, no matter how disconcerting such things should have been. He ignored what had once been crystalline waters, flowing or still, even though that had turned a sanguine red. He turned his gaze away from the gibbering masses of supernatural energy, not wishing to engage the Shadows in combat and waste both precious time and energy. He did not acknowledge the chittering and lumbering and gossiping hordes of Demons around him, unwilling to expend the energy required to negotiate or fight his way past them. On any other night, he might have torn loot from them, or used them to hone his skills. But not that night.
That night, Hyousuke had a target.
He knelt by the edge of a park, and peered into the dirt and flattened grass. The last of the cultists had long since fled, and though he was sure that some cleanup was still required in the aftermath, he doubted that the police - let alone those in Sumaru - would have lingered for long instead of leaving the case to fester in a cabinet somewhere. Thus, he was certain that the tracks he saw could not have belonged to either party. It could have been chalked up to normal people active during the day, he supposed. The park still saw use by the general public, and their many canine companions, but there were a few factors that excluded them from being the creators of the shapes in the dirt.
For one, the pawprints were massive. Far larger than any domestic dog he knew of - certainly too large to be a human's, even if the shape were to match. Moreover, marks left by extended claws could be seen about the place, carved into the ground as much as they were into surfaces nearby. The result of a fight, perhaps? The marking of territory? Simple boredom? Hyousuke was not nearly well-versed enough in such matters to make a judgement, but he took it as a sign that he was on the right path. One he took alone.
He ignored that it was folly to chase after such a demon on his own. He quieted the voice telling him to come back another day, and bring with him a partner or several. He was strong enough to fight this thing on his own, he told himself. He was strong enough to handle any bounty or Shadow or creeping monstrosity without resorting to begging on his hands and knees for assistance that might not even have come. He was not some gnat to be swatted by the supernatural terrors that plagued the Earth - he was a fighter, plain and simple.
Dirt crunched underfoot, but he stood upon the grass. Leaves rustled, but the air was still and stagnant. Branches and twigs bent underfoot, before splintering apart - but Hyousuke had long since rooted himself to the spot, senses honed to pick up any sign of what lurked near him. There was something out there, prowling through the dark, eyeing him like prey. He could feel it in his guts, and hear it in the air. But he was not something to be hunted. He raised his gun to his shoulder, finger coiled around the trigger, while something great and creaking dragged itself from behind him. There, hunched beneath the weight of its own armour before standing tall, was his Persona. His Achilles.
The 'something' that had been stalking him prowled out of the dark, emerging silently and slowly, like a sculpture rising through tar. The dark seemed to slough away from its form, scattering to the air as it revealed its form to him, bathed as it was in the moon's sick light.
Tall as a man - perhaps taller, were it not crouched down and snarling - its frame was lean, yet strong. Every inch of the thick, tawny, fur clung to well-honed muscles that shifted with every long stride it took around the boy that had dared to encroach upon its territory. As the fur bristled, and its hunched body angled to the side, the streaks of black and lines of white fanning away from its spine could be seen, as if dividing the expanse of the creature's hide in two. All of this clung to a form that was, for a beast, somehow sharp and angular. Every feature that was set into its body, from the rows of razor-keen fangs within its maw, to the fire-bright eyes glowing yellow atop its skull, were as sharp as the claws that carved the earth beneath it.
One would have been formidable enough. Two would have been a Herculean task. Three, almost impossible. But there were four. Five. Six. More. Every step the creature took seemed to spawn a new thing from the darkness, one after the other, until a pack of them had formed a ring around him. Hyousuke didn't hesitate. Others might have scanned the beasts, looked for a way out, or displayed some tactical acumen. But not him. He let loose a volley of shrapnel before charging in, swinging his fist to meet the first beast to charge head-on.
Hyousuke swung at the beast. He swung through the beast. It lunged into him like a wolf, but vanished like smoke, fading into the air within a heartbeat. The rest piled upon him in a flurry of claw and fur, but as he and Achilles hacked and bludgeoned, so too did they disappear like mist. It was a frenzy of fist and bronze, marked by shouting and creaking and clanking and thudding, but no damage was dealt. Hyousuke had struck nothing, and been struck by nothing... until he staggered forward from something striking at his back.
Blade-sharp claws ripped three gashes into his suit, and clawed apart the skin to let loose a hot, red, stream. Adrenaline followed quickly after, followed by the green shine of a healing spell. It would not fix the wound, but it could limit the damage, and stem the tide. It would have to do until the beast was slain. Hyousuke lunged towards it, the mirror image of the monster leaping at him, and the two collided. Theirs was a furious melee, tearing at cloth and skin and fur and eyes, their snarls and shouts ripping into the air until neither could be distinguished from the other.
Every swipe of the claw was met with a bludgeoning fist. Every snap of the beast's jaw was returned with a wild kick. The demon slammed its body into him - Hyousuke was sent stumbling back, but surged forwards with a shoulder check of his own, and a wild-eyed headbutt. Man fought beast, beast clashed with man, and their tangled forms proved indistinguishable in that bloodsoaked frenzy. A swipe snagged against Hyousuke's visor, clawing streaks into the plastic, but it wasn't enough to gouge his eyes. He took that moment to burst forwards, and cannoned a fist into the beast's snout in return, wringing a whimper from it as it staggered backwards in pain and surprise.
Before he could think to follow through, more of the beasts surrounded him, while the one he'd fought - the one damaged and bleeding - darted back into the cover of dark. Hyousuke surged forwards, bludgeoning past the pack, but saw no sign of his target. No tracks, no shed fur, no drops of blood that did not stem from him. Nothing. The trail had gone cold, and once the rest of the monsters had vanished, all he had to show for it was a litany of scratches and bruises and gouges.
He sighed, and turned towards the Kasugayama dorms. The Dark Hour, by his estimation, was close to its end. Though it left a bitter taste in his mouth, retreat was the order of the day. There was no time to pursue the beast further, regardless of the state it had left him in, and there was the matter of people in the waking world catching him as he dragged himself past the gates. He tried to console himself, telling himself that it was only a temporary setback, and that he had gathered usable intel for next time, but it rang hollow. He'd failed to take down his quarry yet again, and had been forced to retreat.
There was a bitter taste in his mouth as his form faded into the dark, not born of the blood or sweat that had filtered onto his tongue.