The two doors opened up, and advancing through them was the isolationist individual. "Your seat sir", said one of the staff members, pointing out the value of his position.

Coriptus took his seat, and simply said, "thank you, if you'd like to get me a glass of lemonade that would be much appreciated." He was left alone, with only the view of the main floor below to accompany him.

Coriptus liked seeing the stage set up, there was an elegance to their construction that he couldn't help but find attractive. The blood, sweat, and tears in even a small aspect was attractive; effort displaying itself to the world. In this case, the 'world' was in actuality a gathering of wealthy upper-class business men with deep pockets and little sense. Property was the showcase of wealth, something Coriptus wasn't shy of acquiring as evident by his Homestead, but this particular performance was to be a pantomime between one man, and a good chunk of the audience.

Auctions are interesting in the behaviour between the catalyst and the reaction, with the noise sometimes being inaudible yet understandable based on pure numbers of increasing value. See something you like, be ready to shout or hold up a sign. Feuds spawn between individuals demanding certain items, value skyrockets, and the victor gains the spoils with only their accounts losing something of worth. This particular auction was, on the surface, to be no different, but one item of importance had cropped up and needed to be secured. The arrival advantage was to serve it's purpose, to see the item delivered, and verify it's existence.

In the meantime, there was someone he needed to meet, someone he sent summons to. It was time to meet Paulie Cooper, and so he waits.