Not this again.
He whiffs the air. And he smells blood.
"I think he went this way." A soldier says. In some part of the facility, a man in a cape and body armor not strong enough trudges through the facility. He watches the Assurance Soldiers move along the warehouse, their formation covering every angle. Guns trained into the overheads. It was only a matter of time before they found the crusader who nimbly hid in the rafters above. This night, the Commander would not stand idly by.
"Come peacefully." Septimus spoke, surprising the man as he noticed the black, armor silhouette standing in the darkness. Septimus could smell the man and identify that he was indeed, not a metahuman. He could hear his frantically beating heart and if he closed his eyes, he could estimate how long it would be before the vigilante in question bled out in the hands of Assurance soldiers.
A hand whips out towards Septimus. Two throwing projectiles releases.
They are batted away with the swipe of his sword, exploding with a BOOM off in the distance. The man for more but by the time his hand touches it, he feels a palm in his face smashing his head into the back of the support beam, his skull pushed up against ballistic plate. His body falls limp promptly after. The men look up to see their commander.
Septimus appears outside of the corner, dragging the man down by his cape before he drops him in front of the men.
"Cuff him. Get him a medic. And then call him an ambulance. Confirmed not metahuman. Conventional restraints are all that is necessary." The men all stared. He received prompt "Yes sirs" while he was present, and as they walked away, their thought. "Damn. I wanted another notch on my armor." and "You know we can take our time calling the ambulance."
"What was that?" Said Septimus over the radio. The men then all all exchanged glances before promptly following up as ordered.
The power came back on promptly after. Men were resuming their posts. There were no casualties. And everyone resumed as though nothing had happened. All the while Septimus now sat at a desk, filling out a detailed report of the incident in question. Once a few people were relieved, they were made to fill out their reports on what happened. Being that they just ended a life, he was informed of the investigation that would take place, which would likely be dismissed with the report he gave as he went on about his merry way. And for now he was dismissed to go home.
With a neat stack of paperwork lying in wait, the night had come to nearly an end and the beginning of Septimus' weekend would finally begin. His mind however, wandered in dread at the thought of doing something so much as carving wooden sculptures, reading a book or otherwise doing the same things he often tended to do.
Now was a time to do something different. The Nosferatu tended to be creatures of stasis as far as the mind went. He did not usually change over even decades of time until he interfaced with someone else. And so, to break the monotony of his every day life did in part feel that there was no better opportunity than to speak with someone who he hasn't had the chance to speak with in a long time. Someone who he hadn't really seen since during the meeting.
Sitri was one who Septimus knew. In a way, he was glad she was there and he'd look forward to meeting her. But the last impression he wanted to give was that he had joined for her. It was quite an odd coincidence even that the two would be monsters found themselves drawn to the organization. He could only really wonder. He hadn't the time to really pay her a greater amount of attention during the ACF meeting. However, from what little he could tell, something of her had changed.
He sent her text. Simply titled "Coffee?"
Coffee seemed an obvious choice. Humans are not quite very good at. He himself already fed at home, desiring caffeinated blood to aid in his own staying awake during the daylight owners. The owner of the mansion he lived in was all too happy to provide, being that Septimus himself had saved the life of the man's mother. Who was endangered of being abused by their father. Now that the man was rich, he was all too happy to give back to the otherwise Outcast of a vampire. Plus he already liked to start his day off with coffee as well.
The sun had begun to peak over the horizon. Septimus sat in the coffee shop in question, seemingly appropriately dressed for winter weather despite his affinity for the cold was dressed in heavier clothing. A winter coat with a hoodie. Gloves which hid his fingernail-less hands. And sunglasses which he removed upon entering indoors. The light did not grace the corner which he sat in too heavily.
He sat a bit still. Time generally passing by quickly. But he looked about, and saw many people on their phones. To his irritation, some where even on their phones while they were talking to people. But, he had some stares from sitting in the cafe corner alone and staring at the wall.
He whips out his phone, pale blue eyes staring into the screen and pulling up the "youtube" app to see what appears on the latest trends. His finger flicks through an endless array of music....not to his personal taste. He settled on a video questioning about whether or not a metal boomerang would return to the person. And becoming promptly occupied with the device and video in question as he waits.
When in Rome.