Brother's Grimm

He'd lost track of time. Anymore, the days all seemed to run together. Day, night, they were all the same anymore. He had no place in the world and certainly no one to turn to. His whole life he'd been used and chased and had no real purpose. What was worse, he had this damn curse following him anywhere. He'd taken to wearing gloves where ever he went. He didn't touch anyone and he certainly didn't interact with anyone. So far, his only companions was the falcon perched on his shoulder. In New York, there was no real darkness. The lights from the city could be seen for miles. There was no mistaking why they called it the city that never slept. However, Brock was able to find a semblance of darkness in the city of light. Keeping to the roofs, he used Ghost, his falcon, as a means to keep an eye on the ground. Tonight, however, he wasn't looking for the tallest building in the city. Instead, he was hunting so was keeping to the lower buildings. Ever since he was younger, Brock had been part of an Assassin group called The White Fang who were looking to destroy the supernatural of the world and destroy their rivals, The Black Mambas who sought to enslave the supernatural to take over the world. But all that ended when the Black Mambas realized his powers and destroyed the White Fang, leaving only he and his brother as the sole survivors. In an attempt to protect his brother, he separated from him for almost 100 years. As far as Brock knew, it was working.

But Brock wasn't just running. He'd taken it upon himself to track down the Black Mamba members who were following him and carefully picking them off one by one. Tonight, he was trailing such a man. When the man exited the theater, Brock turned to the falcon and gave a soft and quick whistle who immediately took to the air, soaring just above the dome of light and out of sight. Pulling his face mask down over his head, Brock leapt from the building and onto the next one, keeping up with the man as he went. His intense training growing up had transformed his body into that of a master assassin and he was able to adapt to anything that came his way without so much as a hitch. It even allowed him to find a direct route across the busy street as the man turned down an alley. Here, Brock settled, watching as someone followed the man and his bodyguards into the alley and the two groups approached each other. Shit What was this fool thinking? It was then he saw the hidden blades and moved with lightening speed, dropping from the roof and pulling a Katana from the sheath on his back and positioning himself between the two groups. He spoke over his shoulder to the hooded figure with the knives. "He's mine." he sneered and ran forward towards the man and his guards.

Outfit: ASSASSIN OUTFIT
ASSASSIN MASK

He didn't expect any less when he was met with instant resistance from both parties. The bodyguards instantly react to him and aimed their guns at him instead. However, his movements to dodge the fireballs forced the bodyguards to miss, leaving them to back their boss down the alley and away from them. Momentarily distracted, they were able to disappear leaving only him and the other guy left standing. Not that it mattered. Brock would be able to find him again and he was sure Ghost was already on it. So, instead, he turned his full attention on the hooded guy. "He doesn't deserve to speak. He's slaughtered hundreds without asking them anything. I want to remove his tongue and watch him squirm before I kill him." He twirled his blade around before bringing it before him in a defensive position. "If you have a problem with that, you can go through me." In his mask and coat, he looked truly intimidating. However, with his abilities, he had no chance of fighting with his magic. He had to rely on one on one combat and hope the other did the same.

He smirked, looking forward to a fight. It had, after all, been awhile. He readied himself, expecting his opponent to charge haphazardly towards him without first considering his surroundings but when his fists lit up and he took the path along the wall, angling his attack, Brock froze, his eyes widening. He knew this attack! His only strong element was spirit and he hadn't mastered it yet to be able to just take his power. He'd probably end up killing him. Instead, with a quick movement, he did a black flip, choosing to remain out of the guy's line of fire than fight back. It didn't help that the guy's very movements was familiar but he couldn't place it.

He landed in a puddle and he looked down, thinking quickly. With quick hand movements, he was able to bring the puddle up and launched it at the guy, hoping to extinguish his hands. Hoping the guy was caught off guard, he moved forward, bringing his katana up aiming with the blunt side to pin the guy against the wall. Now he had some questions of his own... He thought he and his brother had been the only ones to survive from White Fang and yet... his movements had been so familiar...

Cocky little shit wasn't he? If he had wanted to kill him, he'd be dead already, although, he doubted the kid knew that. All he would have had to do was take a glove off and touch him and he'd be gone. Hell, even the side of his blade against him was the dull edge. He didn't plan on killing him. In fact, he planned on sating his curiosity. If he was putting the pieces together correctly; the White Fang style, similar to his own, and the "avenging my parents" spew, the person he held under his sword could only be one person and he couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face. He dropped his sword and stepped back, sheathing the blade back into it's sheath across his back. He reached off and tugged off his own mask before bringing his green eyes up to meet his. "And here I thought I'd left you behind in relative safety and yet, I find you stalking the streets like a criminal hunting down the very targets I'm trying to keep away from you." he snorted with light laughter. "It's been a long time, Garrett."

He smirked. "Did you ever think that maybe you hadn't been able to find me because I was purposefully keeping away from you?" he asked him. "I didn't know they were after me, at first. I honestly got separated from you for awhile and I did look for you but as soon as I found out that the attack on the clan was because they were coming after me, I decided dragging you into this whole fiasco would be just another fiasco so I avoided you." There was a soft chirp and like a ghost, a falcon landed on Brock's shoulder and he turned his attention to the bird. From his pocket, he pulled out a dried hunk of meat and fed it to the falcon who quickly ate and took back off into the air on silent wings. He gave one last soft chirp before he disappeared. Brock frowned. If Ghost had returned, it meant that he'd lost track of the target. He was back to square one. He glanced over at Garrett, honestly impressed on how his brother had turned out. Granted, Garrett had excelled at his training and quickly caught up to him but he honestly didn't expect his brother to excel. Perhaps, if he was no longer the burden he thought he was, they could work together and there would be no reason to try and keep his brother safe. After all, Garrett sounded rather insulted. He shouldn't expect any less from his own brother.

"Well, here's a deal with you. You help me track down our missing target once more and if we succeed, I won't run from you anymore but if you make me fail, I'm gone." Brock had never truly had a deep down brotherly relationship with Garrett and he had no intentions of starting fresh now. There was too much history between them. However, if Garrett was serious enough to keep them alive and gain a foothold, he could see himself sticking with him. After all, two minds were better than one, right? "Do we have a deal?"

And there it was, the dreaded question. Because of his power, his own parents had treated him as a tool to be used at their leisure and the sheer quickness of death when he used it, honestly scared him. So he'd kept it from his brother, afraid the last remaining family member would turn away from him too and he was too afraid to be left alone to risk it. When he went into his necro state, Garrett was the only one who could bring him back to being normal and if he had pushed him away, he would have been lost long ago. But now, it seemed, there was no way to get around the obvious. There was no more hiding his little brother from the reality of the world. Here he stood in front of him, geared out to kill someone. He was no longer the little boy who wouldn't have been able to handle the information.

So, with a sigh, Brock pulled off his glove, letting the cool air caress his bare skin. He quickly found the nearest living creature and bent down. It was just a common sewer rat. It squeaked in anger at being picked up and reached around, sinking tiny little fangs into his finger. Brock frowned in anger at the pain and in an instant, his hand glowed black and the rat screeched before it fell limp in his hand. With a frown, Brock dropped the carcass back onto the pavement and stood up, not meeting Garrett's gaze. "My specialty is Necromancy. Because of my assassin skills, they see me as a potential gold mine, nothing more, nothing less. They just want a skilled fighter on their side. Stupid reason to kill so many innocent people for." He trailed off, feeling as though an awkward silence had fallen between them. He knew his brother had never truly liked him but he knew there was no way for Garrett to ever even look at him after this reveal.