Your heels click against the concrete as you make your way calmly down the sidewalk.

You're distinctly aware of the sharp eyes that follow you, and that have been following you for a while now. You aren't stupid. You don't plan on heading home while a certain group is busy collecting intel.

You aren't worried, no. For one, there's a gun in its holster strapped around your thigh. For another, you have at least a dozen of your own eyes on you and your discreet pursuer.

You speak before he even has the chance to approach. "I know you're there, Lavigne. I'm no idiot."

You hear a soft chuckle, and Rome Lavigne himself finally steps out into the moonlight.

As per usual, he's in a sharp suit tailored to fit him like a glass slipper. His black hair is impeccable, and his sharp amber eyes glint in the dim light like gemstones. Intelligent? Yes. Infuriating? Also yes. He steps closer, observing you with clear interest, towering over you.

"Hmm. You know, I never believed my men when they told me the leader of the Doves was someone like you." He grins, tilting his head and sliding his hands into his pockets.

"It's wonderful to finally meet my competitor... in the flesh."