Who: Daniel & Armand (since he asked so nicely)
Where: The city.
When: About 11pm.
Rating: PG-13

Daniel laid his head back against a wall of a Rockefeller Plaza building, that coming down cigarette wetting his tongue, eyes heavy as the world still felt reborn from a feed not twenty minutes ago. He was still feeling the after effects, the reflection of his eyes in the glass looked like they were dancing, sparkles entwining around a secret world that only blood would work as the key to. He had long since stopped stripping things from dinners, unless there had been something he wanted, it was so simple then. Want, take, have and this was life. Or unlife. Either way. The bugs on the floor had echoing footsteps and screams from houses were once again buzzing in the back of his mind. He threw the cigarette down, watching the fire engulf it for a moment further before stamping it out with a black doc marten. The huntsmen returns. Sounded like a matinee.

It had been spitting with rain slightly, certain strands of hair gone almost a light brown instead of ashen blond. He was lost in thought, many thoughts, peoples around him, his own, if the lights of Fifth Avenue could think, he would hear them singing. Perhaps he did anyway, thus was living in New York city. He wasn't used to it, not yet, but he had been here a long time as a mortal and the streets looked like dreams in amazing technicolor. It was so easy to become distracted.