Bluish-grey eyes flitted from one end of the room to another. Long, bony fingers touched the tip of the chin. Thin lips stretched and parted to form a wide grin.
Vincente Jarvis had just arrived.
He was a bit late, of course, but that's almost to be expected when it came to Vincente. He brought his hand to his waistcoat pocket and pulled out his pocket-watch to check the time - yes, yes, he was late, but not terribly so. Thus, with a small sigh, he replaced the pocket-watch into its natural habitat and started to glance around him to commence his favourite pastime: people-watching. Having gotten his general bearings in relation to the people around him, Vincente surmised that having arrived in a semi-formal grey suit was probably a safe move. Another of his grins began to form itself on his face; well, if nothing else, he could at least start by getting a conversation going.
With casual, confident strides, Vincente Jarvis traipsed towards the centre of the room.
I feel the need to clarify: No, Vincente isn't from some bygone era. He just happens to be a rather eccentric fellow, and pocket-watches are one of his increasingly erratic interests.
An omnivorous reader with a strangely retentive memory for trifles.
This message was edited by the author on March 30, 2012 at 1:56:26 AM