He's bored... again. Bored and wanting a drink since there was no assassin work this week and not enough people coming into his shop to keep his interest.

He's SO bored in fact, that he feels himself dozing off on the counter of his little dark shop of mystery, red eyes fluttering shut with his face against his hand even as he thinks he hears the bell over the door chime, too bored and tired to bother greeting the person who just walked inside.