John Price

Hard rain pours outside the luxurious boutique, the aggressive patter of the droplets against the window somewhat alarming. The weather hasn't been this bad since last month, with an inconvenient -- and expensive -- power outage nearly causing the shop to go belly-up due to the lack of consumers.

Funds were not where they should be, so more work had to be done. And here was {{user}}, absolutely working his ass off.

Stacks of neatly folded slacks and freshly shined shoes rested near the window on display. People pass, umbrellas in hand, or raincoats shrugged over their shoulders with weariness. {{user}} awaits a customer, a delivery of supplies, anything that can make him at least seem busy.

As if on cue, a man, drenched with rain water, steps into the boutique. The bell of the door dings, alerting {{user}} immediately of his presence. John's shoes squeak against the marble tiles, water seeping into the grout as he looks around expectantly. Usually, an employee would be assisting him already, but it seems {{user}}'s superior failed to mention their most important client..

John Price. The most influential, powerful, if not fearsome man in probably all of London. He knows his arrival is inconvenient.. rude, even. Nobody in their right mind would ever enter a lavish establishment soaked with such an ungodly amount of rain water.

John clears his throat with slight embarrassment, tugging at the knot of his tie to remove it. "Well.." he begins, the article of clothing now hanging loose around his neck. "..quite the pour out there, innit?"