somewhere in the city
Van Helsing is prowling around the city of Chicago. The weather's warming, in fact, some days, it's downright miserably hot, but still he dons the leather duster. He never complains about being too hot or too cold. He doesn't complain about his job at all, most of the time.

The sun's sinking slowly below the horizon, orange and red and the beginnigs of blue streaking the sky. He's ready to call it a night, but he's really only begun for the day.

There hasn't been much supernatural activity in Chicago of late, but the slow trend doesn't mean he has no need to patrol. There could still be something lurking in the shadows.