[color=f7941d][h2]Douglas Song[/h2][/color][color=f7941d][h3]Sanders Street - News 41 Broadcast Station[/h3][/color]
The majority of the night life had remained just as tame as it had started, perhaps more promising than it should have been here, but nothing as that ever lasts long in the city; cities never sleep after all. Far down by now, having walked perhaps an hour or so, minding his own tempo, Song noted two figures break from the concealment of an alleyway and with blind, but apparently directed motivation, dash across the street. Looking up for the first time everything as as off as one imagined it to be. Two masked men in black, running? Darting between one alleyway and another, all while running out across an open street?

Even if they were not criminals they kept things lively, enough so that as soon as they came, they were already gone. Song had a moment to decide his course of action. He looked to his left, then to his right, noting no real attention from the line of sight of his hood before he shrugged to himself. With a short sprint across the equally devoid street, Song's boots soon left pavement and a stride stepped atop the roof of a car with no more sound or force than a gust of evening wind, and soon he was upward bound to a fire escape. Catching the chill metal railing with his hands, the man pulled himself up to crouching atop it with four points of contact. Having already covered two stories, the last couple were no more than a leap off the rail, a jump from a windowsill, and a few steps run up the vertical brick. 

Landing atop the roof and skirting along its ledge, Song hadn't an issue getting sight of the two men from a distance, dropping from one roof to another after without so much as a noise. He laid low, but never once crouched, stooped or slunk, just calmly walking to keep in sight of the two equally black clad men. Of course the trailing followed with a reward of sorts, the kind that he really hadn't been expecting. That was assuming he had a reason to expect anything at all like this; it sort of happened, a happy accident, rather an unhappy one that could be made well, perhaps.

The duo stood there at first, peering into the window. Song knew from his own experience the men were scoping the place out, after all, a local radio station at night, well after closing hours, while dressed in black and hustling from cover to cover in the bad part of town? The real question was not what they were doing, but [i]why[/i]. There was really no getting a better look at this distance, the observer walking behind a rotating vent that poured out a faint steam, all to obscure his presence, but by the time he rounded it only one thing was certain; they both had vanished.

"Interesting." He noted, hands back again in his pockets, not to spite the brisk air but think more of what he just witnessed.

There was a short period of pause, a few minutes, before it was clear they either had vanished physically or just appeared to have. Whatever the case was, it was a far cry from normalcy and something that merited a bit of investigation. Looking over the ledge, some fifty feet up from the concrete, Song made himself sure that no one would notice a shadow slide down a darkened corner, one cast into more darkness between two buildings. Boots silently grinding against the brick, he let off at the last bit and landed crouched, a palm steadying him.

Good, no one seemed to notice he was here, but now finding where the other two figures went at the broadcasting station was the only challenge remaining. How [i]did[/i] they manage that disappearing act and [i]why[/i] here? The building was somehow related, considering they sought to get inside. So the first place to check? The inside of the building, but that would come soon enough.

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