2014.07.05 - Hunter and...Hunter?

When you try to change the world, you have to make a sacrifice. Sometimes, it is your job. Sometimes, it is your body. For Azrael, it's his soul. His connections to the Jersey White Lotus in college have caused him to fall for the Manchu Triads, Japanese-backed Chinese Mafia that operate sweat shops and produce cheap clothing and shoes for the Japanese Zaibatsus. He did not know getting in, but once you give them your knife, you fall to darkness.

Azrael is wearing a brown cloak and black fatigue pants, with a white kevlar breastplate and kapap knife in his hand. He no longer wears just his face, but instead a ghoulish black mask that resembles a skull, with yellow lens eyes that have his glasses prescription built in. He's stalking along near a cabin, dragging a body. It's an executive from a local corporate steal firm, that was allied with the Irish Mob in Bludhaven. A White Lotus hit. They only use him for the missions he approves of. He intends to kill the White Lotus leader one day, but for now, he waits, stalk, and plans. He does not approve of selling state secrets, but to him, he has a more important mission. Slaying evil.

Angela Del Toro is an expert on the triads, she has been keeping an eye on them, primarily professionally. She knows the White Lotus is making a move, probably on the Irish Mobs pushing in from Bludhaven. She is not certain what that move will be. Her contacts tell her that it will be soon.

Angela is in the precinct house, listening to the dispatcher. She is seeking something out of place. A call that is not the normal violence of Gotham, but also not one of the resident psychopaths trademarks.

Azrael drags the dead corporate executive into the house, lurking along, and dumps him on the ground, bloody and dead. "Pro patria mori," he say, his mask muffling him, but heard perfectly clear with an audial microphone built into the mask that makes his voice low and resonant. He turns about and stalks out of the house, and slides his bloody knife into a mylar sheath, built for the straight, narrow blade. He turns around and picks up a can of gasoline, beginning to pour it on the little cabin. Then, he pulls a Zippo out of his pocket, as he chews nicorette, and lights the cabin on fire. There's a woosh, and the cabin starts burning. His breath hollow inside the mask, a faint rasp heard from the microphone, he begins walking down the trail, out of the woods, the burning cabin behind him.

Word comes in of someone dragging a body, and of a fire in the same area. Angela heads out in an unmarked car to assist the investigation.

Killing then burning is a different MO, in Gotham, if a body is burned it has usually been burned to death.

Azrael, in the night, lurks out of the woods, his yellow lenses glinting with the will o' wisps in the darkness of the swampy forest. He emerges from the woods, brown cloak hanging around his shoulders, leather gloved hands clenching as he sees the car passing. He drops to a knee, feeling the Blue Cheer in his system warn him. He doesn't have the mask over his ears, so he can hear through the sack cloth hood. He watches the car, crouching there, with the fire in the distance.

Angela is not the first on the scene, the beat cops and the firefighters were closer and reached the scene faster. She steps out of the car and starts talking to the beat cops, who direct her to the witnesses who saw the body being dragged. She starts taking down information from them. She follows procedure, asks about details of hwight, build, wardrobe, skin color if known, and exactly where the figure was seen. She will then look for traces where the other was sighted.

The beat cops on the scene describe a figure with a white Roman breast plate and a brown cloak, with a black skull mask and yellow eyes being seen near the victim. The vic was a corporate executive with a local arms company, selling Uziels and submachine guns to mercenaries, that was suspected of an arms deal with the local Italians in Gotham. He was cleared due to a hung jury and a suspicious investigation that may have involved police corruption, along with juror bribes. The district attorney nearly resigned in humiliation. The MO of the cape was reported by Harvey Bullock to MCU and Gotham Police, an individual with a cape and a knife, although the cape's color, along with the knife, has changed description. Angela checks with Harvey, since this seems related to a case he is investigating. The perp changes costume and knife, but seems to generally use a knife. Angela directs the CSI team on where to start while she sees if she can do a bit of tracking. It is not her best suit, but if she can find something, they might bring in a tracking dog.

Azrael watches Angela from the woods, his black combat boots water-lined to avoid getting flush with mud. He watches quietly, his hands balling into fists as he stares at her through yellowed eyes. He breathes lowly, feeling the hotness of his breath inside his mask. There's a faint chirp of crickets in the woods, aware he can take a back trail to his nearby black Mazda, his mob runner car. He ditched the Grandam the minute that Italia Patrarca forced his Interpol contact into breaking the Moriarty sequence. Vespucci will be dangerous. But not as dangerous as Azrael. He watches Del Toro quietly, his silhouette briefly visible in the woods as she looks out there. The clouds break, and there he is, before the moon is obscured again.

Angela catches a quick glimpse of someone who fits the description of the perp. Could he have stuch around to watch? She clicks her radio, "Delta-niner, investigating a possible sighting to the northwest. Will call back in ten." If she does not make it back, she wants the force to be on her tail quickly.

She moves forward as quickly as she can while remaining cautious. She has her gun in her hand and a wooden box in her coat pocket...

Azrael quietly backpedals into the deeper woods, before turning about and moving into the treeline. He has already memorized this spot, his ambush interrogation spot, and moves around a small bog. He then moves behind the tree, near his escape trail, watching Angela approach. There's a bog between Azrael and Angela, with the full moon clouded and Azrael watching quietly. He does not draw his knife, merely watching and waiting. There's a whisper in his ear. It's Brawn. Italia's father is moving to Bludhaven to pull a hit. He figured out who to touch, but the problem is, Bludhaven restauranting is his. Interpol is back with him. For the time being.

Angela is fairly sure she has the right place, but not as sure she has the right person. Someone had been here, but was it the killer? She was about to call for a tracking dog when she caught a glimpse of something reflecting, something yellow.

"Freeze, this is the police! Come out with your hands up," she says professionally.

Azrael backpedals slowly into the woods in the darkness, those yellow lenses staring at Angela in the darkness. He moves to the trail, letting her follow him into the bog. He then slowly drops his head, the glint of the yellow going away, so the glass disappears under the brown hood that shields it from the ambient light. He moves behind a tree, and waits for the sound of her falling into the muck.

Angela steps out of sight, following into the unknown is not something she should do. She clicks her radio, "Perp seems to be retreating, suggest tracking dogs be brought to this location."

After calling in, she reaches into her pocket and opens the wooden box, removing the enchanted jade pieces within. She clips her amulets to her belt and the unstable molecules of her costume shift from her normal clothing to the White Tiger's costume. Angela could not follow this guy silently or by jumping from branch to branch through the trees, but the White Tiger can...

"Impressive," comes the low sound of Azrael's modulated voice. "Perhaps we should discuss things, now that you do not fight as a coward and have shown yourself." He steps out from behind the tree, staring at White Tiger with his yellow eyes and skull face. "Do you slay evil, good, or neither?" he asks in a low voice, watching Angela carefully. He swallows the nicorette, not wanting the distraction. The peppery nicotine will keep him sharp as it absorbs into his stomach. He keeps his hands in plain view, watching.

The White Tiger growls, "A Tiger only kills for survival, not pleasure. I act to protect those in need, particularly when the law can not."

While his implication is that he observed her transformation, and it would be very bad if her identity became public, she has a lot to find out first.

"I kill for justice," comes Azrael's voice. "An animal kills to survive. A human kills for the greater good. A monster kills for evil. I killed a monster. He was selling guns to criminals. Are you not a police officer? Or have you made a deal with the devil, joining the police?" He raises a chin. "A tiger should be free. You are a slave to rules that are not God's, but man's. I choose God. You choose man. And now you kill to survive. You are an animal."

White Tiger growls, "Many a human justifies killing, claiming a greater good. Often those are the worst of evil. Killing should be the last resort for good, when it is not then it is seldom good being served."

It can be hard to decide what to do with a Vigilante Killer. Those, like Batman, who do not kill are strictly hands off for the Tiger...they are little different than she is. A Killer, on the other hand...how does one know if the death is justified?

"Then good men die, and evil men win. Do you understand juste bellum, war? If good men do nothing, if they live by rules for children they have learned young and never broken, then evil wins and good dies, and the world is ruled by Satan. Do you know the difference between the Beast, and the Antichrist?" He slowly tilts his head to the side.

"Many of the worst evils are perpetrated in the name of what someone thinks is the word of god," White Tiger hisses. "Call not on the laws of god, for as often as not they were written by man to claim a higher authority. One must fight evil for good to win, but one must not become evil or good has already lost."

"If you will not slay for war, then you will find yourself in a camp. If you will not do an act of charity for good, then your neighbor will rob you. If you will not think beyond survival, then you will be a slave." He stares quietly.

"Thinking beyond survival does not require killing. War is often survival at its most base, kill the enemy or they will kill you. If you are threatened with robbery, it is not charity, it is extortion," The White Tiger corrects.

"You kill the enemy before they kill you, or else Roosevelt sells an entire continent to Hell." Azrael watches quietly.

"The greatest warrior is one who needs never kill," quotes the White Tiger. "Once a person starts acting as judge, jury, and executioner, their own judgement is in doubt."

"Christ murdered an entire people for the Hebrew race, with a word. After Christ, there was an uprising against Romans, and the entirety of the Hebrew people rose up as Iscarii against Rome, killing themselves rather than be slaves. Batman did the same to Gotham. You do not need a blade in your hand to kill, and not all killing is murder."

"Christ did not kill in any text I know. There was indeed an uprising against Rome in which many Jews were killed, but the Early Christians were not involved. One can kill many ways, that is truth, it is also true that not all killing is murder. Batman does not kill, that is why the police respect him," this guy is sounding very crazy to Angela. Possibly the worst kind of crazy is evil that thinks it is good.

"Hebrew. A Jew is a slave in Egyptian." He continues to stare. "The Torah is the text of slavery. The Book of Judges is the book of liberty. Do you know religion?"

"I have not made a study of religion, but I do know most religion is primarily used as a control for the people. It is a goad to make people behave the way those who control the religion choose. Even if you argue it is inspired by god, it is written down and interpreted by man. Know you the third son rule?" She can hit him back with questions easily enough.

"A child's religion is the Torah, the Ten Commandments, the Sharia. An adult's religion is the Book of Judges, the Book of Apocalypse, the Haditha. Those are the three faiths. To steal essence or entrap is evil. To allow evil to live is evil. To reject riches and children is evil. Those are the three rules of adulthood in the three major faiths. Tell me, what is the third son rule, I was raised Catholic."

The White Tiger lectures, "Should a man have three sons, the first son shall inherit his lands and titles. The second son shall be bought a position in the military. The Third son bought a position within the church."

She explains, "This was the rule followed by many lords and ladies in Europe in the dark ages and middle ages, when military positions like General and Church positions like Bishop were both for sale. The point was these were all paths to power, ways to control the people. Many a person who claims divine inspiration is sumply using the clain to control others, as a way to gain power for themselves."

"The fourth son is always the troubador. That is the noble system. Romantic love developed because of this system. The gai-saber of the knights of Europe, as Nietzsche said. Seduction of a woman for money. Or a man. It is an evil culture. Love is equality, not seduction. Romance of the European nature is miserable lies. Romance is epic heroes, Rome."

"Yet another form of control. My point, religion is generally self serving, designed by persons in power to cement their power. All true religions contain grains of truth, ideals that are required to create a working culture, but much is lost in the dross of self serving rules," The White Tiger responds

"Religion can go two ways. The religion of the poor, to keep one alive in hardship. And scientific religion, the psychology of the human psyche. I choose the latter. If you understand your faith, you will be a psychologist, and be able to counsel others."

"Scientific Religion, surely a misnomer for anyone who is using it to justify killing," The White Tiger challenges.

"Do you understand evolution?" Azrael cocks his head to the side. "Hunt culture, psychological biology and anthropology, the righteous predator slaying the rat?"

"I understand self justification, claiming superiority as reason for what one wants to do. Have you read Nazi Philosophy, it was full of just such claims to evolution and the necessity of removing the impure to advance evolution to a superior form. It was used to justify some of the greatest evils in history," Angela counters.

"It is easy to miswrite rules, but you can never do it convincingly, can you, unless you have a rifle or a hammer?" Azrael lowers his head, his knees bending as he takes a step backwards.

"It is easy to REWRITE rules to suit yourself, and to make them sound convincing. When force is required to make others listen, perhaps it is time to consider why," Angela says, moving to a position suitable to respond to an attack or to attempt to stop the man if he tries to flee.

"It impossible to make an appeal to evil to a good man. They only work on the evil, who deny the truth, because they have committed a Mortal Sin, an act of evil, pure hatred, which turns them to darkness. Have you committed a Mortal Sin? Locked up a good man, stolen from a good woman, seperated a child from good parents? Do you allow evil to happen out of pacifism, having not fought when you saw someone get dragged into an alley? Once you stray from God, the rule of pack and true law, the journey and the jihad to find one's self, you can only go back with an act of redemption. And once you lose redemption, you hold the hammer forever. And one day? You will hold the rifle. And when you die, you will see your life, and it's lies, and then..." He narrows his eyes behind the mask. "You will live no more. Communists die sobbing. Nazis die screaming. I will die laughing. Do you know the difference?"

"Many a good man has been tricked into thinking Evil is good. I live every day holding back Chaos. I can not tell good from evil in a man's thoughts, I can only see their actions, and reconstruct them by the rules of evidence and the rules of Law. It is required for justice that all persons be considered innocent until proven guilty, and that the guilt be able to be proven beyond a reasonable doubt to others...for any person's judgement may be flawed. That is the basis of Justice, when you place yourself beyond this, then always must you question your own judgement. Anyone who works for the law can find themselves arresting a man who is later shown to be innocent, and can find themselves separating a child from parents later shown to be behaving properly. The job of the police is to try to protect the people,but anyone can be fooled by evidence that is flawed," White Tiger states.

"Then you will die laughing," Azrael admits, feeling his throat clench. "We are the same, but we have different lies. You have the law, the good house. I have my knife, my cloak, my mask. Do you know what I will see, feline?" He stays with his knees bent, watching. "I will see all the missed opportunities. The man I could not save. The woman I could not counsel. The child that was lost forever in that back alley. That is my life. You have three choices. The weak, the evil, or the tragic. To choose the weak is easy. To choose the evil is pleasure. To choose the tragic is heroic. That is why you do not leap into the air and cut my throat. And that is why I do not draw my knife, and charge into you with my shoulder, and thrust my blade into your ribs. The tragic always fights the tragic, because we have been broken by what we see. The fascists rule over the weak, and the broken are in between, dead and doomed children, because they fought and could not win."

"The difference being, I choose to kill only when required for survival, my own or another who is immediately threatened," White Tiger notes.

"That man was selling guns to mobsters. Do you wish them to threaten the world? Eventually, a stray bullet will kill someone. A mobster will kill a cop. Perhaps you. If you wait, if you deliberate, then you will kill someone. And you will never know it was your fault. If you act too fast, you will kill another out of a bad decision, the impetuousness of youth. Do you act too quick and cut down a friend, or do you act too slow, and let the world be consumed by fire?"

"Were I after him, I would make his weapons useless, when his buyers discover that, they will come after him. He would either die at their hands, or come to testify to save his life," there are a lot of ways besides killing to get rid of a threat.

"And what if you were stopping a man with a gun, while another man with a gun was robbing a bank? Or what if you were asleep, and he performed a drive by shooting? You are one individual. You cannot be everywhere. And you have abilities that the regular man does not have. You cannot stop everyone. That requires friendship."

"No one can protect everyone, that is truth. The most powerful of heroes, or the weakest of normal, we all have limits. One must accept that and do what one can. Doing what you can to help others at a risk of your life is what makes one a Hero, instead of a bystander or villain," White Tiger notes.

"Correct." Azrael motions at the house, which has been put out by now, the police already sending out a search party for White Tiger, since it's been ten minutes. "I do what I can. So do you." He turns around, and he begins walking down the trail, brown cloak swaying in the quiet forest, walking into the darkness. He leaves his back open, in case she wants to chase him. He does not move furtively, or quickly, merely leaving into the darkness of the glade.

White Tiger warns, "I do not approve of your methods, but as long as only the guilty fall to your blades I will not seek you as the Tiger. Should I find proof that the innocent have fallen to you, I will come after you."

She only hopes she is doing the right thing, this one seems a bit crazy, but his insanity seems to be oriented on destroying evil.

Azrael walks off into the night, leaving questions unanswered, and moves into the darkness, moving back to that black Mazda runner, and getting into his car. He takes his mask off, doffing his hood, and lights up a Newport Red. He looks at his eyes in the mirror, before getting his glasses on, and drives off into the night.