He lounges in a chair at a table, black boot leather resting his heels upon the table. black denim way too tight for decency clings to long legs shaped by life long physical activity, a shirt of royal purple silk is completely buttoned except for the top most button a burgandy silk tie hangs over the back of his chair, where his shoulder length blonde hair brushes in loose waves. he looks like a man who should be pale, but he often spends his time in far warmer climates with far less clothes. If his eyes were open, which they are not, you'd be gazing into a shade too jewel like to be human, but inspite of some special abilities he is very human.
If you ask him politely he'll hand you a business card with two words written on it, Keith Ballerfon.