Mr. Slake
Team A

A hazy figure stepped through the threshold to Virgo's office, little more than a black smudge on the room's metaphorical canvas. It strode forward, set a briefcase down on a tasteless white marble end-table, and set about removing it's coat. Emerging from the rain slicker cocoon came the brilliant rainbow wings of Mr. Slake, glittering dust trailing back towards the door.

[color=fdc68a]"You really ought to put up some signs, you know."[/color], Slake started as he folded his coat, not bothering to look up, [color=fdc68a]"Practically impossible to find an office in this place; I was wandering the upper floor for over an hour before I realized your secretary was one of those savages who calls the ground floor a "first floor". Ghastly, I tell you. If I hadn't followed your dog I don't think I'd ever have found you."[/color], He draped his coat over his lower right arm, picking up the briefcase in his left.

He walked towards the desk/podium/interior-decorating-nightmare, eyeing Narious and Choppers and maintaining his distance with obvious disgust- as obviously as one could show disgust without facial expressions, at least.

[color=fdc68a]"Virgo, I take it. I must admit, I expected you to be a bit more... feminine?"[/color]

Mr. Slake fished a small, printed rectangle from his jacket pocket. Tastefully thick; eggshell, with Romalian type. No watermark just yet; he was saving that for his promotion.

[color=fdc68a]"Folus U. Slake, AMT Banking And Legal. My card."[/color]