Peace For Our Time

The room was dark as it ought to be save for a few bright lights. One came from a desk with a laptop open. This revealed a gun stationed right next to it, fully loaded in the event of something unexpected. The other thing was a whetstone. And finally there was a part of a solid sword revealed by the computer. Septimus sat in front with the final light in his hands, a cellphone. He flicked through the contacts about, to make a call. When he got an anonymous message. One which brought something of particular note to the Nosferatu's attention.

It can wait.

Rarely would there be an hour wasted, a mind allowed too long to idle. And idle many Nosferatu would, given how the lack of any need to maintain a physique. Septimus endless activity in of all things, computers. A device he could use to observe the world from his fingers tips in all it's overwhelming vastness. It almost became easy for him to perpetually seek looking into that which needed to be looked into.

In the modern world, there was yet a great many ways to spread information. So quickly that the masquerade became ever more difficult for it's participants to maintain.

And yet within this age was a tactic as old and ancient as information itself -- lies. Falsehoods. Madness. And any combination of some or all of these things. There were many such superstitions of his kind even that were completely false, such as the use of a cross, running rivers or holy water. It took time to sift through this. Inevitably, one trending topic of a mad man had caught his eye. The man had been chased. And then he was simply beaten into submission -- notably without any resistance on his part. All before the news closes out with the two laughing most of it off. Some might be willing to say "something was off" but Septimus had what "off" narrowed down to the reporters themselves. Along with the excessive brutality of the security staff in the footage. It could be nothing and simply them mistaking him ripping the mike away for something. But it could be just them seeking to use force to beat the man into submission.

From a demon mind controlling an entire town to a company wiping one off the map because of a failed experiment. It was certainly a possibility that one person had suddenly changed. These tended to be like roaches, where finding one thing lead to more. But that was yet to be seen.

First was to verify the man had not just been some loon. He would go -- but Septimus had well known some who could run a background check on him, searching for prior cases of mental health problems or any reports by the former spouse of domestic abuse.

Bandenville, New York

The vampire did not rove the streets on foot. Not yet at least. A leisurely drive with a well maintained, decade old Dodge Challenger. The windows were tinted and allowed none to peer at the man within. Particularly not at night. But he could take a leisurely drive throughout the area simply to a read on the place and how, if at all, it reacted to him.

The car had stopped some distance away, sitting at the farthest end of a grocery store parking lot. Here it would remain, for he would proceed on foot. Septimus walked away to the busy road across from the market and soon crossed it into the forest near by. Out of sight, he was free to move a great degree faster. The forest was pitch black and lacking street lamps but occasionally a dull grey glint could be seen from his bowey knife as he cut through the occasionally thick forest brush. The vampire had little in the realm of arms and thus he wasn't very heavy. He made little noise and no dents as he moved along the neighborhood, jumping fences, leaping across near by houses and dashing across streets too quickly for human eyes to catch. He'd all the while remained in the blind spot of any security camera during this fact. When he spotted the address.

This cannot be.

The eye catching outfit. The figure. The mannerisms ripe for a runway. And the sassy tone she took in her voice. There was simply no mistaking it.

Here? And now?

Septimus' abilities rendered his body like unto a shadow. He could not effect his clothes particularly. But his body remained all but imperceptible so long as he remained in the dark and away from very bright lights. The figure sitting upon the rooftop of the house across able to be seen as a silhouette at best. And said silhouette...would be gone. In the literal time it took for an eye to blink. In the backyard, walked up to the house in question. He removed a glove and then he would press his hand against the back of the wall. And with this, he would feel with his hands all vibrations which resonated throughout the building. Every step taken. The constant subtle hum of ventilation system. Down to the little pitter pattern of rats and roaches within. Through his skin, Septimus felt supernatural forces when they interacted with his body. As it was the place of his body to repel.

Meanwhile, it was hardly ever his intention to knock on the door. To show his face to those whom he did not know would often unsettle them and such things hardly often went well for the majority of his life. Times made it easier, but many would still seek to get away from the pale, goblin like man who's face yet hosted some scars. In some ways he preferred it like this.

Sometimes you needed to see what people were doing when the didn't think they were being watched.

It reminds of old times.

Given Sophie's own skillset she may or may not even be well suited to this. People tended to answer better to a pretty face. But her presence was coincidence and knowing her she was likely improvising. All too naturally, while she worked from here, Septimus would play the role of stalker. Listening and remaining well out of sight of them both. And already locating any phone lines in case he so decided to enter the house without tripping an alarm.

But this brought with it the opportunity to attempt to glean information from methods he himself would encounter difficulties in employing.