Enter the man

He slipped in soundlessly, casually, his $200 pair of shoes making no sound on the hard surface of the sidewalk. He assumed a casual gait, in his casual clothes. His jeans outlined the musculature of his legs, thick and solid, without a hint of fat on them. His white polo stretched across the broad planes of his chest, doing more than hinting at broad shoulders, a thick neck, and well-muscled arms. He liked the challenge of a white shirt - it made the necessity for a neat dinner so much more pressing, given the stricture by which he lived his life: Don't get caught. And somehow the authorities never seemed to question his innocence in any bloodletting; how unlikely was it, after all, that the man in the spotless white shirt had anything to do with that?

He still drew attention - appraising, admiring from the women - and some men - and slightly green from the men - and of course the occasional woman. But this was the type of attention he could handle from years of long practice; it was no different alive, after all.

He hadn't been in Nachton in over a decade. He looked around, still with a strong memory of the layout of the streets, he wondered what had changed. It had seemed then to be the ideal place to begin new enterprises. His current holdings were doing well, cared for by others. His businesses were also well managed, making money hand over fist. But he longed for new horizons, new adventures, new projects to which he could put his hand.

Nachton was the opportunity. He angled his shoulders as he scented the street, avoiding a piece of meat that was about to walk into him with catlike grace. He could feel the people watching him as he passed, but resisted the urge to twitch his shoulders. Most were harmless, and the ones that weren't, well - he'd deal with them soon enough too.

He looked up and down the street, trying to decide what to do next. A quick trip to the club? Put out the first feelers with the Clan? Or start shopping for property immediately? His hotel room was already reserved - Al Gore aside, the Internet was his favorite vampire invention, followed closely by 100% tint and mirrored glass.

For a long moment he pondered, and then he moved, sliding into the evening.

(Lock thread, please!)