Open Season [Finished]

[Casey]

When the kid spoke up first he got his attention. An attention which he held even after the kid walked out of the Wesson. Kid looked upset about something and once again he was curious as to what, going by his gut it wasn’t anything good. Deacon glanced at the older man. He seriously needed to figure out which one was which. Sure, he could call the kid, “kid” until the cows came home, the man on the hand, that was starting to give him a headache.

Deacon could feel the beginnings of shock when kid came back in armed. To his credit, Deacon wasn’t a man known for his polarized moods. Didn’t matter what happened in his bar, he kept a cool head and dealt with the problem until the problem was solved. Panic didn’t do you any bit of good when a fight broke out. He’d also heard vets from four different wars talk about their experiences, so Deacon had thought nothing anyone could say would surprise him. He was wrong.

The man and kid hurriedly laid out what sounded like what should have been a huge secret. Who knows, perhaps it was. Deacon just placed his hands on the bar to steady himself. The day had looked so promising too.
“Alright,” Deacon said taking a deep breath, “You’re crazy, but you’re crazy with a gun so I guess I’ll hear you out.”

He looked away from them frowning, “Would one of you mind locking the door? Don’t want anyone interrupting your ‘truth is out there speak’. Also would you kindly tell me which one of you owns which name?”

[Jefferson]

Jefferson stood up and went to the door. He noticed the symbol on the door, but thought nothing of it. Locking the door behind him he slid back into his seat. He placed his hand into his own right pocket and felt his gun. He always came prepared, even when there wasn't an emergency. Jefferson took his hand out of his pocket and placed it back on his glass.

"We are not crazy. We may sound crazy, and believe me I know we do, but we are speaking the truth. It may be hard to understand at this moment, but after you've seen the things we have seen then you will start believing." Jefferson said to Deacon. Deacon had asked them which named belong to who. Jefferson laughed. He completly forgot that Deacon had no idea who they were.

"My name's Jefferson. He's Aiden. What's yours by the way?"

[Aiden]

Aiden was now in hunting mode, he knew that something was coming, othewise the warning wouldn't have come for them. Thats exactly what it was, it was a warning, and not only that, but it hinted at what they would be fighting. It couldn't be a werewolf, now that he thought about it, since the lunar cycle wasn't right. That, and he doubted that anyone would be sleeping at this time of day. That left one thing, a shape shifter, which would make it hard to identify if one came in. Aiden pulled his clip out, ensured that it was filled with silver bullets, and then slid it back in with a defining click. Jefferson wasn't really helping the situation, frankly, because he didn't have much tact.

"Look man, all the monsters in movies, they're real. Vampires, ghosts, werewolves, the whole lot. That note you just gave us, it means something is coming, something killed by silver. Thats either a werewolf, or a shape shifter, and its not a werewolf, the lunar cycle isn't right. I know, I sound insane, but just trust me on this. We have the advantage, so no one is going to get hurt," he explained, leaving it at that, and shooting Jeff a look telling to to drop it as well.

"Right now, we're going to need your help. Do you have any cameras in this place?"

[Jefferson]

Jefferson smiled at Aiden. The young kid from before had grown up into an experienced hunter. Jefferson was worried though. Jefferson could feel Aiden getting ready for the hunt. Aiden always had the same emotion every time he was getting ready for the kill. It scared Jefferson, because he didn't know how much control Aiden had over his emotions. That didn't matter as much right now. Jefferson had more important matters to worry about.

Jefferson looked around the room. He didn't see one camara, but he didn't believe he was going to. Deacon probably had cameras hidden somewhere. At least that is what Jefferson hoped for. The cameras didn't matter as much anyway. They needed to be able to look through the camera to tell if the eyes were different.

"Screw the cameras. If you do have some, show us where the monitors are. We need to be able to see the person's eyes through the monitor. I'll explain later."

[Casey]

The older one stepped over and locked the door. Deacon let a deep breath out through his nose. Now he didn’t have to worry about someone interrupting what promised to be a memorable conversation. Immediately after the man was back the first thing he did, other than pull out a piece, was profess how not crazy they were. He only nodded and kept an eye on the weapons. Then he had their names and Deacon could finally look at the two of them and think that Jefferson at the moment was more wacko. When Jefferson asked for his name he was pleasantly surprised.

“Deacon Rook,” he said. It probably wasn’t his brightest move but he didn’t see how refusing to give his name would have helped the situation.

The younger one, Aiden began to speak and he had Deacon’s full attention. The kid was nice enough to elaborate more than just, “Monsters are real”. As he worked his way through things that could be killed by silver, Deacon couldn’t help but think that Aiden reminded him of Art. Maybe it was the start of Stockholm syndrome, but he was more interested in possibility of a shape shifter walking into his bar.

He was about to tell Aiden that, yes there were several cameras in the bar when Jefferson cut in. Out of reflex Deacon narrowed his eyes, forgetting that the man was armed. Once again the guy was acting like an Alpha male and Deacon found that more annoying than the two of them threatening.

“I have two monitors,” he answered evenly, “One is under this here bar, the other is in the storage room. Why the hell do you need to see ‘em?”

[Jefferson]

"A shape shifter's eyes will be seen differently through a monitor. One will be able to identify one if they have their eyes on a monitor. That's why we need your help. We need you to keep an eye on the monitor you have under the bar and we will sit here and pretend like nothing is the matter." Jefferson said to Deacon. His eyes looked over at Aiden and the gun. Having the gun out would cause panic if a human walked here.

"Put the gun away Aiden. You'll have fun with it later, I promise." Jefferson told Aiden. He sat still, only moving the glass in his hand.

[Aiden]

Aiden watched Jeff walk over and close the door, his mouth slightly agape. If they were sent there to kill the shifter, how was locking the door going to solve anything? All that would do was give the shifter a detour into town, where it would kill someone else, which would only make things worse. Jefferson was trying to take the lead, trying to make sure they had the upper hand, but Aiden was experienced, he knew what he was doing. He might not have the years that Jefferson did, but he knew well enough. After all, his first years as a Hunter was based solely on researching monsters and their weaknesses. And that Casey guy told Aiden to bring the gun, not Jeff. That must have meant something too.

The bartender, Deacon, was kind enough to let Aiden explain without interrupting. The subject was hard enough to make sound believable, let alone getting through it without at least one question. Most people at that point assumed a couple of things. One, that they were crazy, insane, and proceeded to try and call the police. Two, they were called EXTREMELY avid roleyplayers that were just bored in public. Or three, they were thrown out of whatever dwelling they were in. Coming clean as a Hunter was hard, and luckily enough, Jeff stayed out of that portion of the hunt.

Or at least, for the most part he did. He jumped in at the end, which was the last bit of Aiden's nerve. Turning towards the older man, Aiden glared. "First off, I'm not taking orders from you. I'm not thirteen. Secondly, here I am trying to be tact, yet you come over and try to just worm your way into control. Its two in the fucking afternoon, not many people are going to be coming into a bar. Now," he said turning to Deacon, "all I need is one monitor where I can see it." Aiden stood, walking to the door, and unlocking it with emphasis. "We wait for it to come in. Anyone else that comes in and isn't caught on the monitor as the shifter will be told we're closed, simple as that." He spat, taking a seat again, and picking up his gun.

[Casey]

You could tell who a shape shifter by their eyes? Deacon found that weird but then again he never expected to have a shape shifter walk into his bar. When Jeff told him to keep an eye on the monitor, he just nodded. He’d grown used to watching it and looking for flashes in the screen. Only difference now was that it he’d be looking at eyes instead of for knives. Again weird, but he could adapt.

Then there was a spat. Where before he’d been concerned about Jeff’s alpha male-ing had been a bad, now he was worried about Aiden’s. Aiden yelled at his collage and started cussing. Then he unlocked the door. Deacon just shook his head.

“Alright kiddo,” He said watching the kid, “have it your way but if Barry walks in while you’re talking you get to handle it.”

Though he did have a plan and honestly he’d told people the bar was closed. Since it wasn’t a Friday, Saturday or Sunday he wouldn’t be taking too bad a hit in the financial end.

“If we aren’t going to have any customers than I guess you can just hop behind the bar,” Deacon patted the wood, “Just don’t try sneaking any drinks.”

[Jefferson]

Jefferson frowned over at Aiden. Jefferson stood up and walked over to Aiden. Standing beside him, he leaned in close to his ear. Whispering so only Aiden could hear, he said, "I don't give a fuck how old you are. If I give you a damn order, you listen to it. Your nothing but a damn hunter. It's too bad your damn studies didn't teach you that. Anyways, didn't it ever cross your fucking mind that I had a reason for telling you to put your gun away. You fucking immature kid. Also, this is out of topic, don't spit on the ground. It's disgusting." Jefferson backed away from Aiden and forced a smile, so Deacon wouldn't seem suspicious.

Jefferson did not mean to say those words to Aiden. He hated when Aiden began to think that he was better then most hunters. He only put up with it because of Mal. Now that Mal wasn't in the picture, he didn't see the point of putting up the act. Well, the demon blood was a fairly good reason. He hadn't told Aiden what he had inside of him. That didn't matter right now.

"The child prodigy has a point. He's also better at me at hunting. That's only because I don't like to kill. I only kill when I have to." Jefferson told Deacon, not staring at Aiden at all. One look at him and Jefferson felt he himself would go out of control. Staying as calm as possible was essentially important at this moment. Breathing in through his nose, Jefferson said to Aiden, "You heard him, jump over. Or do you now not want to cause the bigger adult told you to."

[Aiden]

Letting Jeff play his little game, Aiden stood in his place while Jeff scolded him, one eyebrow twitching up at his words. There was a reason that Aiden acted as he did, and that was survival; it kept him alive this long, right? And now that Aiden could analyze, assess, and act on a situation, he didn't need a guiding hand to help him along, nor did he want it. He'd grown to be independent, and with Jeff trying to control him, that didn't tide over well in Aiden's mind. Still, he let Jeff's rant run its course, waiting for him to finish. No anger, no shame brewed within him, only irritation, irritation because Jeff thought he could control Aiden, who was trained to fly solo. Even with Malcolm, the guy trained him to fight on his own one day.

Finally Jefferson finished, and Aiden simply turned to him, both brows raised. "Talk to me like that again, and you're going to have a broken jaw. I don't take crap from anyone, and you sure as hell aren't Mal, so you have no right to berate me like that. I don't care how many years you have on me, you're just a Hunter to me as well." He took a few steps away, looking around for anything to use in their advantage. "I can deal with Barry, whoever he is, if he comes in. Its not that hard to tell someone a bar is closed, or to get out."

Aiden rolled his eyes, there went Jeff with his sob story about not killing and being righteous. If one was a Hunter, odds were the things they did weren't righteous, killing evil beings or not. "Killing doesn't matter," Aiden said, cocking his pistol and walking around the back of the bar, the whole time the gun pointed in Jeff's general direction, not directly at him. "Now, can you please shut up and not make this any more obvious than it is? Thanks," Aiden said, ignoring him without waiting for further comment.

[Casey]

Deacon gave up on trying to corral Aiden and Jefferson. Those two didn’t seem to want to stop arguing within the next few minutes. Hey, as long as they didn’t start shooting up his place. Bullet holes were a pain in the ass and he’d just replaced the big mirror from the last bar fight.

Jeff also had a way of giving a man confidence. Aiden, the squirt, a killer? And Jefferson, apparently was too. Just the kind of thing you say when you’re trying to convince someone you’re not crazy. He liked pulling the kid’s chain, and any other time that would be amusing. Any other time being with someone with less of a temper, unarmed and not a killer that is.

“Barry,” Deacon said as he picked up a glass, “Is the town drunk. He’s got a few things wrong with him too but no one knows for sure what it is ‘zactly. The popular theory is he’s schizo or bi-polar. Got an ocational drug problem too. Came in a few months ago hyped up on PCP. Took seven cops to take him down.” He looked down and started cleaning the glass, “So thanks for volunteering there kiddo.”

He set the glass down and picked up another, “Jeff you mind putting something on the Juke? Not that all this talk ain’t fascinating, I’d like some background noise.” Other than you two growling at each other, he thought. “It’s all rock and oldies, hope neither of you mind,” he add, “Hit the A button three times then press and hold the B and 6 for a couple seconds. You can pick whatever you want after that.”

Finally Deacon turned to Aiden, “Guess I should show you how to work the monitor, huh?” He stepped back so the kid could see.

“The screen changes on auto between four camera’s at a time, the back room shows the rest of them. Anyway if you want to look at one angle in particular you press one of the buttons with your foot,” He then acted it out, pressing each of the four buttons, “Be careful with it, don’t take much of a touch."

Deacon stepped back and gave a mock half bow, “All yours kiddo.”

[Jefferson]

Jefferson couldn't help laugh a little. He had calmed down a bit from the talk with Aiden, and had stood up to go to the jukebox. He followed Deacon's instructions and pressed all the buttons he needed to press. Looking for a song was harder then Jeff realized. He decided to pick any random song and sat back down. As he did, he noticed that Deacon was showing Aiden how to use the monitor. He felt a bit guilty about how he had talked to the kid. He needed some way to apologize, but he didn't know how. He didn't worry about it for too long though, as an idea had come into his head.

"Aiden, I'm sorry. If you want I'll buy you a beer after the hunt. Hell you started drinking earlier then I did, I think, and it's not like we listen to the rules society says we have to. That is if you want."

[Aiden]

If Deacon took Aiden to be inexperienced with a gun, and inexperienced with what he was doing (preparing for the hunt) then he was sadly mistaken. Aiden knew how to handle a gun, he wouldn't just start shooting up the place. He also knew how to kill a shifter, how to spot one, and he could do so quickly and effectively without anyone's help, aside from the cameras. It was true, though, that Aiden was a killer, as was Jeff, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it. When it came to the spectrum of supernatural beings, most had to be killed in order to stop inflicting pain on people. Aiden had less of a problem with it, was all, because he'd been doing so for the past couple years of his life in order to live.

Rolling his eyes, he was sure that if there was anything that Aiden could take care of in this world, it would be an insane town drunk. "Listen, I'll deal, alright? Can we just finish this damn thing, people are starting to walk out in the street," he said, observing the note he'd made through the windows of the bar. He moved around the back of the bar, glancing at the monitors, and quickly stepping on the pedal to shuffle through the channels. When he was content, he stowed his gun carefully, but within easy reach, out of view of customers, and began the waiting game.

When Jefferson spoke, though, Aiden couldn't help but let his irritation rise. "What the hell is your problem? Seriously, are you bipolar or something, and you never told me?" After all that scolding he was just going to turn around and tell him that he was sorry and buy him a round? Reaching under the bar and grabbing a bottle, he popped the cap off and took a drink. "Don't worry about it," he growled, setting it down on the bartop with a clank. His eyes fell on the windows once again, watching the windows and the passerbys. It could be any one of them.

[Casey]

The music started over the speakers and he leaned his head back with a small smirk. Soothed the savage beast or whatever it was that they said. Not that it was gonna work on these two but Deacon didn’t care. He looked out the window when Aiden mentioned people walking by. The Wesson wasn’t on the more popular side of town and there was also the drive way to walk up. If people were walking by the doors they were either lost or about to come in.

Aiden grabbed a beer and Deacon shook his head. Of course the kid would do the one thing he’d been told not to. He’d basically given him permission to shoot a shapeshifter, or what he hoped was a shapeshifter and stand behind the bar. If the cops found out about either of those, he’d loss his bartending license and go to jail. Police were not going to believe the “it was a monster” alibi.

When Aiden looked back out the window, he snagged the bottle from out in front of him. He poured the beer out in the sink under to bar and tossed the bottle in the trash. Can sell an opened beer, it’d be warm and flat by the time an old enough patron came in. Wasn’t sanitary either. Deacon slid Aiden’s soda from earlier into the spot the beer had previously occupied.
Moments later the door opened. He couldn’t help but look, try and see if he could spot the fake. Of course he wasn’t able too. They looked like the tourist type, flat colored rumpled clothes, dorky hats, and even a fanny pack. In total there were four of them, two men and two women.

All wearing sunglasses.

Deacon turned away from the door, looked up the ceiling and mumbled, “Did I do something to seriously piss you off today or something?"

[Aiden]

This was getting frickin' ridiculous. Aiden damn well deserved a beer, especially if he was going to be saving this guy's ass. He frowned when the bottle was snatched away, watching the liquid travel into the drain. He looked at Deacon briefly, and shrugged. "Doesn't bother me, its your merchandise you're wasting. I was actually going to drink that." Grabbing the soda, Aiden promptly dumped the contents out in the running water trough that ran behind the bar, used for cleaning glasses, or for draining them. He reached under again, grabbed another bottle, and popped the top off, this time taking a nice long drink before setting the bottle down--behind him. "Get over it, I can cover if the measly little cops come in."

The object on the back of the door clattered as it opened, and Aiden's eyes were drawn up for a moment before they flitted to the monitor. "Fuck," he hissed quietly. Really, did it have to he sunglasses? Who wore sunglasses on a frickin' rainy day?! He momentarily exchanged a look of disbelief with Jeff before quickly trying to run down in his head a way to get those glasses off. Luckily for him (or maybe that charm he didn't quite know about helped) an idea came to mind in a couple of seconds, and he stood straighter behind the bar. "Hey there, grab a table. What are you waitin' for, Jeff, take their order would you?" Four bottles of beer, all the same. The uniformity was slightly unnerving, but Aiden nonetheless grabbed the bottles, trayed them, and walked over to the table, as if he worked in the bar.

The next step took some well placed steps and impeccable timing, but Aiden knew he could pull it off. Setting the first drink down went off without a hitch, as did the second. But as he moved around the table, he "tripped" falling into the man in front of him hard enough to knock his glasses off, while the contents of the glass in his hand rained onto one of the female's face. Two down, hopefully, and hopefully one of the others was watching the monitor. "Oh, so sorry about that. Let me grab a towel from behind the bar," he said quickly, knowing he could easily shoot one of them should they be a shifter. Now he needed the confirmation.

(Sorry for the slight godmod Jeff. And if you'd rather not Aiden do this, let me know and I'll change it.)