The slight tapping of polished shoes was the only indication that someone new had entered the room. He was obviously Bretonian, fairly tall, and stood in a way that seemed too straight to be natural, almost as if he was royalty. He didn't even seem stymied by the rain, his white suit impeccably dry, made with some strange fabric. His hair seemed not all that bad when wet, as if it was meant to be that way. He walked up to the counter, simply getting a glass of water and a muffin, then taking an empty seat at random. His particular choice was strange though, leaving him in relative darkness compared to the rest of the room, though not by much, simply out of direct light. He looked around, smiling when he realised nobody had quite noticed him, and relaxed, flicking out a small PDA and reading the news feeds.
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
