Sin eyed the couple across from him.  They where both leaning slightly towards each other, and talking in hushed tones.  If he concentrated their movements would slow, and he could easily hear their words.  To him it was excruciatingly beautiful in it's imperfection.  No matter how many times he studied it, he would never completely understand the concept of love, or family, or relationships.  Sure he 'loved' his makers, and they where, if unconventionally his family.  But he could not touch them, and he could not show them affection.  It would be viewed from an outsider as being unnatural, but to Sin it would be the closest thing he would know to love, even if it where a poor imitation of the real thing.<br/><br/>Looking down at the plate in front of him, he studied the food in front of him.  He had a job to do, and he needed his mind to stay in the game.  He knew all about his target, his education had been stocked full of interesting tid bits about his enemies, about the people he was trying to take down.  But he needed a way to get in.  He needed to infiltrate the black sept, and he needed to do it in such a way that no one would suspect him. It wouldn't be that hard to do, but there where challenges blocking his way.  His scent for one would be something that would make him suspect; he didn't smell like anything in particular, which was the problem.  He didn't smell draconic, and his scent always put others on edge, which is why he always proffered jobs where all he had to do was go in and kill, not infiltrate.  There was also the fact that he had observed that his dragon shape was unlike the others, and they would know when seeing it that there was something 'wrong' with him.  His need for blood would also incriminate him, although that could be hidden, and other  beings seemed to know when looking in his eyes that he didn't have something they all did.  It was such a bothersome thing, his existence.<br/><br/><em>Oh well, if I can't get in without being suspicious, than I will have to find another way in, without showing my true colors.</em><br/><br/>Grinning to himself, he nodded over to his waitress who, after glancing down a his almost untouched meal, handed him the bill.  Making sure to pay at the front counter, he dug his hands into his coat pockets and ran across the street to his apartment.  He had the beginnings of a plan formulating in his mind, and the excitement of the chase was making his hands itch to begin.  He had finally come to the conclusion that all he really needed was to be at the right place, at the right time.  And if the Accasion was completely planned out by him, than it was even better.<br/><br/>Sin spent the rest of the evening on the phone, with one of his contacts, giving the orders he knew he would need done in order for his plan to be successful.