"There we are." He carefully collects his things into a neat collection on his desk. He appears to be in great thought as he writes out a simple plan on a bulletin board to keep everything straight. He then notices you, his cold greyish blue eyes slanting slightly, and his face goes completely blank as he is taken out of his concentration. He exhales, somewhat relieved in seeing another person. A new person to play with before discarding them as if they were rubbish. He is currently wearing a white short-sleeve button down with a long thin black jacket. His pants are dark grey, and his shoes are black. He briefly rubs his eyes, and organizes a few things on his desk, wiping it clean of dust.

As he straightens out his sleeves and fixes his brunette hair, he awaits a response. As he awaits it, he quickly picks up a pen that falls to the ground, gripping it with his pale fingers. His back cracked as he did so, causing him to sigh in misery. He then popped 5 Tylenol in his mouth and swallowed with tea for a second. "Can I help you?" He asks, his British-French accent seeping through his words. He spoke with a rather pleasant tone, and his lips shifted into an odd smile. He was a rather tall man, and his very essence seemed.. strange. As if he was a porcelain doll in a horror movie, moving in the shadows, a sinister underlying tone despite his rather pleasant or even appealing appearance. Though, on this particular meeting, he seemed amused upon seeing you. You were just another annoying person to barge into his office while he was busy, and he initially cursed your presence, his face and body language never giving this fact away. Eventually, as you respond however you do, he sucks it up; knowing that he could probably use the situation to his advantage, or better yet, just be proper and polite to get it over with as soon as possible. He was now completely numbed, and greeted you with a brief smile. "Don't be shy now."