A lone man walked through the alley ways of the decrepit city. He was about 5' 7" with uneven black hair, most of which fell to his shoulders. His eyes were a blue, dark to the point where you might think them black if the light were not shining into them. He was lean, but well muscled, like a runner, and his outfit was inconspicuous. He wore black pants, that couldn't quite be called jeans, and a black T-shirt that fit his frame and had two yellow vertical stripes on one side, one being much thinner than the other. Over his shirt he wore a black leather jacket that was unzipped, and he held his hands in the pocket of this jacket.<br/><br/>The odd thing about this man, besides how he was walking down alleys alone in such a dangerous time and place, was that he appeared to be talking to himself. "So not all Hunters' powers are the same?" The man asked. His voice was medium in pitch, and young.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">No,</span>said a voice inside his head.<span style="font-style: italic">It entirely depends on the demon they get their powers from.</span><br/><br/>The boy lifted up his hand and let sparks shoot across his fingers, arching up as if upset at being controlled. "So this isn't normal by any standards then," he said matter-of-factly.<br/><br/>One might get the feeling that the voice shook its head.<span style="font-style: italic">What does it matter? I thought you said you didn't care about fitting into the crowd as long as you could survive by separating from it.</span><br/><br/>The boy nodded. "That's what I said alright. But," he continued, "I think I'll avoid using my powers in battle for as long as I can. I'd like to get used to them a bit first."<br/><br/>-----------------------<br/><br/>A man sits in a tree, seeming to be the only one left in the desolate part that hadn't been uprooted or otherwise desecrated. He had spiky black hair and a slightly childish face. A white bandana was tied around his forehead, barely leaving his eyebrows visible above his honey brown eyes. He was shorter, maybe 5'2" at the highest. He wore a black, zipped up, leather jacket that fell just above his ankles. peaking our below his jacket you could see black pants and black boots. Either this man was a punk, or he wanted to remain unseen in the dark. Perhaps both.<br/><br/>He was looking out into the distance, enjoying a few peaceful moments. He didn't focus on anything in particular, as that would make the moment rather unpleasant. There wasn't anything much good left to look at in this place.<br/><br/>After a moment, he hopped down. He didn't feel like being spotted, so he sprinted. Indeed, to the normal eye, it might very well appear as if he'd vanished. When he stopped moving and was once again visible, he was in front of a ruined building. Now that he was stopped, and not sitting, one could see a katana strapped to his back, probably his weapon of choice.<br/><br/>He only stayed still for a moment before wandering into the building. In the basement, was a hidden place. There were a few tables, a bar, and several people. This was a secret hang out for Hunters. While he didn't much socialize when he was here, he enjoyed the sense of safety the place offered. The small man made his way to his usual seat at a table in the corner. He did nothing really, just crossed his arms and sat there with his eyes closed, thinking.<br/><br/>A man bumped elbows with one of his buddies. "Who's that guy?" He asked his friend. "Looks lonely."<br/><br/>"That's Hiei (Hee-ay)," the friend replied. "That's all we really know. He prefers to be left alone. If you know what's good for you, you'll give him his space."