AN: So I'm finally digging this story back out to actually update and work on chapters. I've updated the intro a bit as well.

I own nothing besides the plot

In the pitch of twilight, a cold breeze shuffled through the skidrow streets of London. A shadowy figure dressed in black stalked the alleys of Fleet Street until it neared a well known building on said street. The figure's gloved hands tightened around the bags it carried; pure white masque luminated against the night sky as it walked the filthy street. It was humming a tune as it strode. The tune was sad, it was beautiful, and it was hypnotic. The incescent clicking of it's shoes stopped short in front of a building that fit snuggly against a pie shop but before it could ascend the stairs that lead to it's new home, a glint in the corner of it's eye caught it's attention.

The shadowy figure turned it's head to gaze up to where the glint came from as a touch of silver swung gracefully by the window of the room above the pie shop. Peering up at the dancing object, the figure became entranced in its spell until it noticed a set of eyes watching him. Deep brown eyes that touched on midnight's sky and rimmed with smoky bruising glared down at the shadowy figure. Swinging in the air again, the silver glint took on a life of its own until it snapped close into it's handle piece, causing a shiver to run up the figure's spine. The man in the window slowly walked out of view with his silent steps and unwavering gaze, placing his treasured silver in the breast pocket of his dark vest.

One last glance at the window before the shadowy figure took this opportunity to leave and enter the building adjacent to the pie shop, a rush of fabric from his black cape ruffling in the twilight's breeze before the thick door cut off his image to the outside world.