<div class="floatleft">(http://i58.tinypic.com/30mwxg7.png)</div><hr/>Tobias, Owner of Nocturne<br/>Walking the perimeter<br/><hr/><br/>Tobias was in a very good mood. This was the third anniversary for Nocturne, three years had passed since it opened. During the entire first year, he had feared that the secret that they held out in the open - namely, that the place was<em>actually</em>a den of vampires, and not just a club full of people<em>pretending</em>to be vampires - would be exposed, and he and the others would be on the run again. It wasn't a part of his life that he wanted to repeat, as he'd done it many times over the years. But now, it seemed clear that the ruse was working, the club was a success, and despite the vampires' selective and careful feeding, nobody had figured out the secret. Well, almost nobody - nobody who would go calling the police or monster hunters, in any case.<br/><br/>6'3" tall and built like a quarterback, dressed in a dark casual suit that spoke of both style and money, he turned many faces on the floors of Nocturne, both female and male. He was never quite able to blend into the background, as he gave off a sense of absolute, self-contained control that he had developed over centuries of life. He knew who he was, and made it plain to any who cared to look.<br/><br/>Tonight was anything but an ordinary night at Nocturne, though. It was<em>special</em>. New advertising was bringing the club up to near its full capacity. Both dance floors were active, the more hardcore elements downstairs were nearly full, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. As he walked among them, as he often did, he felt their energy, their excitement, their lust. He didn't feel a need to drink tonight - he was well-sustained at the moment, and could hold off for years if necessary. But he did need to make sure that the club was running smoothly.<br/><br/>He had the look of someone who wasn't there for entertainment, and many people figured out quickly that he was either the owner, or a devoted manager. he answered questions, settled complaints, and made sure that unhappy guests had an opportunity to enjoy their evening in one way or another. He pushed, pulled, prodded, coaxed, and comforted guests, being part host, part customer service, and part pimp. And, as always, he looked for trouble that even the bouncers couldn't contain and control.<br/><br/>Tonight, he felt that feeling - the feeling that there was some<em>other</em>in the club, someone who was neither quite human nor vampire... and was not happy. Someone for whom enough stress could turn to violence... a level of violence that could topple Tobias's house of cards, if it got out. It took him two orbits of the club's floors, reaching out with his senses, before he finally spotted Marie-Eve. He wasn't sure what she was yet... but she had the feeling of a ticking time bomb, someone who could blow up at any minute.<br/><br/>He worked his way back through the club, continuing to stop for brief exchanges with customers who wanted his attention, until he ended up next to the small booth that Marie-Eve was occupying. He paused, leaned over the table so that his face was close to hers. "You don't seem to be enjoying yourself," he said loudly, loud enough to be heard by her over the music, but not so loud that anyone else would hear. "Is there anything I can do to help?"