There was never any hesitation, never any second guessing where he was meant to go. Two offers had come in around the same time, one from Orlando and the other from Tokyo, the latter accompanied by a short, tersely worded note which was signed off with a name he hadn’t expected. They’d never crossed paths directly, but when Minoru Suzuki requests a sit down, only a stupid man would reject the missive.
Tommy End was not a stupid man.
While still paying lip service to the folks in Orlando, promising a sit down to discuss a possible contract, he’d stolen off to Japan in the dead of night. Stolen off to meet a man who struck fear into even his cold, dead heart and discuss business. It had gone even better than he thought it would, the Dutchman and the Suzuki-Gun bonding over shared ambitions and tastes for cruelty. Normally, under any other circumstance, he wouldn’t ever follow another, preferring to be his own master. But Suzuki commanded his respect and had so much knowledge to share…
It was how he found himself here, in Korakuen Hall, throwing strikes and kicks at members of CHAOS. Suzuki-Gun was invading New Japan, performing a hostile takeover of New Years Dash, and sending a message. Their sheer numbers and strength had quickly overwhelmed their rival faction, Tommy’s killer instinct flaring as he could smell the proverbial blood in the air. A spin kick had felled Ishii and he was left facing him.
IWGP Heavyweight champion, the New Ace, Kazuchika Okada.
Even wounded, ribs taped from the war he won the night before, everything was golden about him. Hair, skin, eyes, everything was radiant and every sick, primal instinct in him was screaming to dull that radiance, to leave smudges of darkness all over perfection.
The sound of the heel of his foot connecting with his perfectly symmetrical face made the beast in his mind purr, entirely too happy to watch the golden boy of New Japan felled by Suzuki’s wicked piledriver. His new little family took their victory lap before stalking to the back, but Tommy could feel eyes boring into his back. He could hazard a guess as to who it was, but he didn’t turn to confirm his suspicions.
★ - Rock gave a slight blink at the kiss, Looking in her direction in silence as she watched her hide. Instead, She took careful notice of the red tint to her face.. and that got the gears turning. She looked around, Before she eventually decided to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. She had an idea… - ★
The hunter’s life was a difficult one, as was evidenced today. Some just accepted his chosen profession without question and more than enough gratitude for the invaluable service he undoubtedly provided, but the majority… The majority thought he was what he hunted and would in turn hunt him as soon as he got rid of the entity or creature ailing them, chasing him for miles with their misplaced righteous fury.
He didn’t blame them, not really. In an effort to be as efficient as possible, Aleister wasn’t above the use of magic. It was this hunt that it had backfired on him, having dispelled a poltergeist, but in full view of townspeople who had become convinced that it was him behind the mayhem in their village. He had been chased for miles, the last half of the flight having been spent with an arrow wound in his right shoulder.
The old castle was not his first choice for shelter, but Aleister could feel the mob at his back. There was old, old magic here, he could feel its malevolent energy in his bones, but he couldn’t be particular about his havens, not with the blood loss from his shoulder wound making him weak.
A shiver went up his spine as he moved through the stone hallways, the undeniable sensation of eyes following him setting him on edge. Of course, he’d have such luck as to pick a refuge that was already occupied. Aleister was too weak to put up much of a fight, so hopefully whatever it was with him wasn’t terribly hungry. His hand palmed at the pommel of the sword at his waist, the familiar steel a comfort as the unnerving words reverberated through the stone hall.
“Meant no disrespect, just looking for shelter to weather a proverbial storm.”
Blood loss was making his words slurred, leaning heavily on the stone. Aleister cursed internally, this was not an ideal situation. Whoever or whatever had spoken to him seemed to be intrigued by him, but there was no denying that he was feeling like prey.
“What do you want me to do Simon? Pinkie swear?“ Jace asked with a small huff and nodded . “Fine, whatever. I won’t say anything to anyone. Not like I care anyway” It wasn’t his business that the young vampire decided to have a night to himself away from everything. After everything that happened just a few days ago with Alec and finding out about his possible relation to Clary Jace couldn’t be around the Institute.
He needed time to clear his head.
“Wedding of the century like promised though” he muses leaning against the wall next to the vampire in an attempt at conversation.
Yes, he was trying to keep Simon under his supervision. Once a Shadowhunter always a Shadowhunter.
That was his excuse to himself and he was sticking to it.