An office downtown. The front desk or a prestigious company. The walls are white with black and white photography shadow boxed all along the hallway leading from the glass elevators to he single crisp white down down the hall. The only thing out of place is the girl in purple sitting at the secretary's desk.
None
"well madam, may i know your name?" damian was growing impatent
Rivka smirked as he watched the scene unfold before him, like an opera, or prehaps one of those plays he would watch down at the theatre houses when he was a child, back in Latvia, where the men would wear makeup as white as snow, and taint womens bodies in the name of acting. Those were the days, and he missed them, now, he worked here, sort of like.. A shadow for his boss, he didnt really care about what he had to do, but he would do it.
"i would" damian said as he walked down the corridor without making any sound. "and who might you be?"