A Call to Arms

Right behind the little feline, the elder demon entered. Wearing a silk shirt of dark indigo, black boots and jeans, he moved quietly to stand beside his son, a pleasant smile upon his face until the content of the phone call drew his attention.  Father tapped son on the shoulder, leaning in to speak quietly.

"Is everything all right, Dante?"

A clipboard-toting bully is what he felt reduced to as he went through the list in front of him as he walked, doling out instructions according to it. Most were unaware that he was just visually the one in charge, perhaps someday he would introduce the real mastermind that held The Order together. At long last, the talk list was clear, it was timed well as he entered the meeting hall. He was glad to be greeted by both new and familiar faces.

He halted hard, staring at one face that was both strange and familiar. He looked from Dante to the other man, and back again.

"Dante, Who the hell is this?!" He would have been embarrassed at how taken aback he sounded, if there weren't much bigger fish to fry. He'd just have to make up for it later, with a quarrel of wits with his old friend.

With s shake of his head and a roll of the eye when Dante brushed past, the younger devil shrugged it off calling for everyone to have a seat. He introduced all of the new faces to eachother, calling out hunters that were first on scene to some of the massacres, others that were high class hunters with experience in these deadly hunts, and Kitty who was here because she came with a recommendation from a reputable source. Of course, everyone knew who Dante was.

"We are here because this is a sensitive matter." Nero himself took a seat at the table, across from Dante, "Seasoned hunters have lost their lives trying to hunt this menace. We don't know much, we know that the demon causes a psychological break in its victims, incapacitates them with fear, and then feeds on the adrenaline drenched, blood-rich organs. As far as what this being looks like, no one knows, or even exactly what kind of demon it is." He paused a moment to slide papers across to everyone, brief summaries of the coroner's and police reports.

"civilian officials at first thought this to be gang related killings, perhaps the fear being drug induced and the organs sold." folding his hands before him, elbows on the table, he was unashamed these days of his demonic hand, even in present company. His expression sank, "If it were only that simple. By the reports, yes the cuts were quite clean, however they were made by something organic, that left behind this strange black residue." He looked down at one of the photos on the page before him with a heavy sigh.

"We cannot afford any more loss of life. That is why you all are here, as well as myself. We are the best there is. We are the ones who keep the demon realm at bay." He glanced across to his friend, "Even if some are not willing to claim such a lofty position. We are." Sitting still was difficult, a nervousness in his legs lifted him from his chair, demanding movement. He was sure that there was something missing, another reason he had called this gathering. Someone else was bound to have more information, something someone missed. He looked around at those present, his eyes lingering on the man that had joined Dante. There was something about him, a familiarity that sank into his bones, as though he should know the man, not that the face helped. He and Dante, though the similarities were uncanny, he was not his twin, Nero at least knew that.

"Any one have any other details, even the smallest clue could help us," He finally stopped pacing, grasping onto the back f the chair he had been sitting in, he scanned again, waiting, hoping.

"A shadow demon or a hybrid, eh?" Sparda shifted in his chair. "There was a creature like that in possession of Yamato, and a slew of other weapons, in this very building not long ago. He found himself outmatched against Dante and I, although I don't believe he recognized that fact at first."

The elder devil's voice was calm, thoughtful, and measured, softer than Dante's but with an equal measure of fortitude. He looked to the others present for any response to his words, or any further lines of questioning.

Kitty sat quietly, observing and listening intently. A slight frown affixed itself to her face as the others spoke of the similar encounters. She didn't have anything to add, and that bothered her slightly.

Hearing that Reika was investigating alone caused a feeling of apprehension to sit in her stomach like a lead ball, a sense of dread creeping through her frame like icy roots. The feline tried pushing the sensations out of her mind, and breaking eye contact with Dante and staring a hole into the center of the tabletop instead.

Something didn't feel right about any of this, but she couldn't quite place it. It was on the tip of her tongue, but without being able to properly quantify her feelings, she did not want to interrupt the higher ranked hunters during their more serious discussion. Besides, who was she to question Reika's abilities, or the decision to let her investigate a lead on her own?

Perhaps you should speak, Golem whispered. It is only natural for a predator to go after the lonely straggler, rather than attack the herd, conveniently preoccupied and unable to aid the lonely straggler...

Her eyes opened wide and she looked to Dante with more than a little alarm in her expression.

Syrissin was flabbergasted at Dante. One everyone int he business knew Reika was the source for jobs outside of the Order. And he let's her go to ground zero against something that had taken sown known and talented hunters.

"I hate to be an ass and agree with the glow stick Red, but that move seeems a bit thoughtless on both parts. If we need to get her and this living devil arm we need to go now. I'll join up, I inherited some very keen senses from my father's side. I could probably help track either woman down." Syrissin offered calmly but a sense of electric urgency tingled down his neck. His instincts were haywire. Something was not right.