"Oh, Christ on a cracker, what now?" He murmured quietly to himself as he heard the noise, and one of the men gathered here aid to hush for it. His lips twitched, before turning into a deep set frown. He quietly, confusedly collected his change, wondering why the woman hadn't kept the tip, but whatever. He's pragmatic, if she didn't want it, he's not going to force her to take it. Back into his wallet it goes.<br/><br/>He slides his hands into his well worn leather gloves, and he found himself looking around the bar.  Debating just up and leaving when he catches the red-blue-red-blue-red-blue of police lights coming from outside.<br/><br/>First those god damned idiots made a big to do about being hunters, as if this seedy, dingy, dark, dreary bar was a good place to do so, then their was some sort of bullshit going on outside with the police (probably drunks doing stupid shit), and then their was the very strange noise coming from the walls and the vents.<br/><br/>"I'm getting the hell out of here before this turns into some cliche horror movie." He said quietly to the woman he'd been talking with, a weak smile on his face. He picked up his helmet, and as he stood from his chair, put it on...