Micchy has fled the sewers.

It's not safe there, not even with the local Nosferatu either dead or cleared out. But he's made himself too obvious, so while the more ambitious fledglings keep chasing his trail down there, he's moved, again and again. He's considered moving out of the city, but something inside of him keeps telling him no, he needs to stay.

There's something he has to do, and something he has to find, but he's not sure what it is. He's managed to clean himself up, finding clothing from people either after he's killed them, or simply after they've had too much to drink. Some of it is dirty, but he doesn't care anymore. What he cares about is this gnawing in his brain, threatening to overtake him. What matters is completing his goals... once he figures out what they are.

He won't be found during the day, of course, and if he spots anyone he knows he starts to quietly head in the other direction, but he's largely found around the downtown district or near the edges. Never the residential section, and never anywhere near where his dance team once was.

He can't let them see him. Not like this. Not ever again. None of them.