The cityscape offered several tantalizing attractions, slightly obscured by clouds of hazy cigarette smoke. These were the portions of the city that he strayed to most commonly - the ones that drew him in with their wheezing neon signs, their tactless messages scrawled across ashen brick walls, with those strange bumbling individuals with personalities that proved the phrase 'stranger than fiction'. They bubbled and frothed with all sorts - from those down on their luck and scraping together some final means to pay off their debts, and the kind that thrived off of nightlife and enslaved the aforementioned individuals to their duties in monetary development.

But these locations were not always so smoky, so alive and brimming with endless personality.

In the cold light of day, these places stand as gaping maws and trashed testaments to the thriving nightlife they once contained. They sported addicts chasing another high, or vagrants looking for a meager nap before they begin another long, toiling day to buy their next meal (though more often, another bottle of gin). And sometimes, most times he visited, they sported bodies. Corpses. Cadavers. And these were the reasons he was drawn to these affairs - for what type of place looked so hollow and old, so devoid, yet people were willing to kill there?

As Adonis, he found the place welcoming to many, but not to the few like him. He could flaunt himself there, could strut and stride through the scene, turning heads and turning thoughts and possibly even turning tricks, but... He knew his duties to the Negaverse warranted a little more consideration than borrowing the uniform to dazzle a few strangers. So he remained on those outskirts looking in, instead puzzling out how he might drain just a little more energy to meet his quota.

Since the day Vespa was considerate enough to demonstrate for him, he found draining energy quite the easy task. Equally lucky, he hadn't run into any of the opposing faction who sought to put a stop to his activities.

Perhaps he shouldn't count his blessings quite yet.

Even as he lounged within the dark depression of a door, against the cool steel that barred entry to the building, he felt something petrifying drawing his way - was this a senshi? It felt similar to the one he encountered before, but... Different somehow. He shrank further into the shadows, hoping the meager cover from the lip of the doorframe might somehow conceal him from sight, from mind.

He hadn't done anything to deserve this, had he?

Parue
Lemme know if this works!