Next up came the distinctive rumble of a jetpack. Touching down outside the office, a young man pressed a button on his helmet, causing it to whir gently and flick up. taking a sip out of the smoothie he had picked up earlier, he shrugged his shoulders, the steel 'wings' that allowed him to fly about folding down. Opening the door, he let out a large yawn, giving a 'hello,' to the boss. Yes, he was early. It was mostly because he was early enough to dodge the ticketers, so it saved him a ton of money. Plus, overtime. He slid his punchcard into the clock and pressed it down, the machine letting out a 'thunk' as it confirmed his check in time. Walking to his cubicle, he slid the helmet off and put it next to his computer, putting his jetpack jacket down over his chair. 

Slurping again on his smoothie, he gave a twirl on his chair, a comb in his hand. The helmet always mussed up his hair, so he gave himself a few minutes always to make sure he looked good. His skin was pretty healthy, his hair, which was a straight, close-to-but-not-quite-jet-black hair was clean, and he always managed to be clean shaven.

"Morning boss."