[color=f7941d][h2]Douglas Song[/h2][/color][color=f7941d][h3]Hallow Grounds Coffee[/h3][/color]
The rudeness of the man to interrupt Song's business was perhaps almost expected at this point; these people were in such a hurry with their lives they hadn't the wherewithal to recognize he would having willingly ordered more then and at that moment. One would not ask such a question, let alone receive such an answer, and attempt to continue the exchange if they did not intend to go down that very route. Song laughed instead, not one to belittle or berate the barista manning the counter. Smiling as he did, he hefted the box on to his shoulder and wrapped an arm around it with familiar ease.

"Next time then I will make my order." 

Song looked Orren over once more before turning to depart, allowing the implications to settle, and avoiding the woman who had been called up to the counter from behind him. Without paying her much mind, he then vanished as strangely as he had come, toting now only the small wooden crate with him out the door. While it was still overcast, a chill on the air, the sun starting to bring ever more light and warmth so slowly by the minute, Song was pleased to have worn his long coat this day. Not just that it was one of the few things to keep the unpleasant wet chill in the air from him, but that short of his box, he would blend in among any other young businessman or professional lingering about the gourmet coffee shops - of course so long as he kept it on over his sweatshirt.

It was always a matter to remain of little interest to as many as possible, but some days were just easier than others. After all, how else would he look into the strange events of the masked men? Surely they would rerun and discuss the events, launch an investigation by the police, and be the talk of the town, but Song, perhaps of the entire world, was the only one who had met them just after the act. It left the business up to him as it were then...

[@Little Italy][@Metronome]