It was early evening, the sun having just set merely a few hours ago. Dryden sat in occupied cafe, two couples and a handful of others sat within the homely decorated area. Dryden brought his cup to his lips, sipping his tea very slowly. Drinking anything but blood wasn't something that a vampire's body was used to anyways.

Dryden was a tad on the unusual in terms of his dress. He actually wore some white. Still, his t-shirt was still skin-tight, making his muscles visible if he moved. His classic black leather coat was still drapped across his shoulders. His pants were his regular semi-baggy black jeans with leather studded belt. His hair, styled so it spiked in the back, had a mild midnight blue tinge.

He sat in the corner of the cafe, starring idly at the conversations of others. There was another person in an opposite corner that seemed to prefer his own company to any others. Dryden didn't linger on any of the customers mind's for very long, he was absorbed in his own thoughts really. His seat allowed him to see the face of anyone who ventured in, needing to satisfy their caffeine craving, or if they just wanted to warm up with a latte.

The quaint silver bell above the door jingled momentarily as Marcus entered the cafe, a young college student on his arm. Her cheeks were flushed and her cornflower eyes bright as she scanned the room, dangling a slim black flute case off of the fingers of her free hand nervously. Her scrutiny ended when a group of similarly-aged individuals in the back waved her over, and with a shy but thankful smile, she left Marcus to join them, honey blonde ponytail bouncing in her wake.

Marcus smiled vaguely after her, running his fingers over his loosely tied back locks and stepping fully into the shop. It wasn't uncommon for him to walk his students home or at least to a meeting point among friends after class, since rehearsals did end rather late and he knew too well what appeal a young, newly independent mortal had to the nightlife.

Since he had no further appointments that evening, and wanted to stay away from the coven for as long as possible to avoid gaining them, he headed to the counter to order a beverage that he could pretend to consume in order to avoid getting kicked out for loitering. As he paid for the drink, he caught the sound of giggling from the table where his student sat. He flashed everyone there a small smile accompanied by a wink, visible despite the tint of his slim amber sunglasses.

The woman serving him cleared her throat and pushed a cup of foam-capped liquid at him, eyebrow cocked in restrained annoyance. Marcus dipped his head meekly and went on his way, settling at a table fairly close to the door and pulling a novel from his coat pocket.

"Hey, how'd the lesson go?"

"Very well, he's a musical genious."

"That's what they say..."

Dryden couldn't help but listen in on the students conversation. They were finishing up their drinks and some were showing an adament desire to leave. Dryden's gaze moved from them, to the proposed teacher that had taken a seat in a corner, with a full view of the door, just as Dryden had.

Dryden's eyes didn't linger long. One didn't need to be nearly four millenia old in order to know who that character was. As he always did, Dryden observed his mind, on the furthest outskirts he could to see and not be detected. The mental shields around the man's mind were marked, as if tatooed with an unmistakable marked that told all of the vampire that dwelled within the barrier.

The leader of the Amman, it wouldn't take long for him to sense Dryden's presense. Dryden knew he was older than Marcus, but had never actually met the vampire. Of course there was a brief interaction when he had joined the Amman, but that was a confusing time... as short as it was.

Dryden remained where he was, knowing it would not be long now. This was going to be interesting, and to think he was just here for a cup of coffee.

Marcus had, in fact, noticed the presence of the other vampire very shortly upon entering, and had, perhaps very naively, hoped he would not have to interact with him.

It was a strange but understandable trait that Marcus was not entirely comfortable with himself when around vampires his elder by half a millennia or more. Particularly, if not especially, when they were members of his own coven. Such individuals always brought about the concern that they would attempt to usurp his position, yet honour demanded that he allow them into the Amman if they showed no pretense of threat and an honest desire to perform the duties required of the group.

This vampire he did recall in limited detail, particularly due to the unique condition of his eyes. Dryden, native of Egypt, nearing three and a half thousand years of age but retaining the experiences of less than half that span of time.

Marcus collected his cup and his novel, and ventured to Dryden's table, standing before it with a neutral smile. "Would you care for some company?"