It was, Simon mused to himself, rather amusing how stealthy a nearly six foot tall man in armor could be when he only weighed about twenty pounds. Magnetically lightened through alchemy, his armor didn't make a sound as he stepped, cat-like, through the tavern. His feet, wrapped in cloth to disguise the boots as poor shoes, were equally silent. The armor was concealed with a rough-spun tunic and cloak, giving him a rather spooky appearance. All of these factors combined meant that when he reached the large, alcoholic man harassing the girl he recognized as his contact, from the man's point of view it was as if a shrouded giant had suddenly materialized behind him and placed a suddenly-heavy hand on his shoulder.

"The lady is clearly not interested." Simon's soft voice issued from beneath his hood. "Moreover, we have business to conduct. If you'd be so kind as to be on your way, we can continue with our night without any undue excitement." His voice carried no hint of threat; he was kind and courteous, as casual as if he was discussing the weather.

Unfortunately, the drunken man was not in the mood to be soothed, and lacked the sense to be afraid of large, hooded strangers. He scowled at Simon, standing up as if to try and intimidate him. The effect was... less than threatening. "Hey now, if you think you c'n just barge in here, and tell me what to do..." He made a clumsy lunge at Simon, who was suddenly very light indeed.

Moving like lightning, Simon's arms whipped about, seizing the man and using the weight of his own charge to flip him up and onto his back. There was a distinct [i]thump[/i] as the man hit the ground, which briefly drew attention from the bar's other patrons before they all swiftly returned to their drinks. Simon peered down at the man, and spoke, still utterly calm, as if nothing had happened. "Now, if you walk away now, we can continue without making any more of a scene. Frankly, I don't have time for you." 

The man on the floor glared at him, before climbing to his feet and trying to pretend he wasn't running away, grumbling under his breath. Interloper dealt with, Simon sat down across from his contact and lowered his hood, revealing a young, peaceful face. "You are Penelope Draven, the Prankster Alchemist, correct?" He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, which didn't so much as creak under his weight. He looked, for all the world, like a man settling in for a nap. "Simon Everett, the Lightning Alchemist. I was told to meet you here." His voice was a quiet murmur, to avoid being overheard.