Week Two: Tuesday
Who: Dorian and Hesper Where: Seattle Underground When: Tuesday Night
The underground. It was both a haven and a haunt. Perhaps that was an unusual way to look at the dilapidated pathways that led underneath the city of Seattle. It was a haven to those who required the cover it so adequately provided and it was perhaps a place of nightmares who found their way mistakenly into it's dark depths. But Dorian had not found his way to the underground mistakenly... he did however take advantage of the cover it provided. Though it was not for the nefarious deeds that many used it for.
Rather, it was far more a matter of life or death. Maybe not quite anything that desperate but Dorian had taken to adding the seriousness of just such a situation to most average things he did. He never knew... though he did make it his business to try and know, to try and anticipate the actions of those that had wanted him dead for nearly two centuries. He hadn't lived this long without making it his business to know who was in each and every city he arrived in. Not just for the work he did, that was always secondary to just staying alive... but rather to know who would be the one that would lead them to him this time. To determine if he had walked right into the waiting orders of some minion of his... grandfather. Though that term was really far too familiar for a demon he had never met and hoped never to meet.
Dorian pulled the cloak of shadows he wore more tightly around him as someone passed by the particular alcove he was keeping himself to while he let his fine tuned senses feel the narrow alleyways that crisscrossed this portion of the city. The two acts, keeping the bits of darkness that clung to so much of the underground concealing his very presence and... feeling those that moved around him, took nearly every ounce of his focus. Something that almost left him vulnerable but it was a necessity.
More than necessary. There it was... the pull of demon blood. Walking the streets that were well... below the city of now streets. His shoulders immediately tightened and his jaw clenched. Dorian's hand strayed to the warded charm around his neck he always wore. Only one of many that was placed there to help conceal his own blood. Though it was never truly possible... they could always tell, those with enough age or enough skill. Dorian stepped away from the niche he'd tucked himself into, his steps falling near silently on the worn walkways as he moved off in pursuit. Looking for the one that was a demon... a potential threat.