<div class="floatright"><div style="text-align: right;"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Darryl E. Walker</span></strong><br/>(http://photos.modelmayhem.com/photos/110321/10/4d878dbb79593.jpg)<br/>Character Sheet (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=163693.msg7601268#msg7601268)</div></div><br/><br/>Stiff, rigid, smeared over too many working hours to keep count of for far too long a time in a row now, Darryl, in full, finely cut anthracite grey suit (minus the tie he had nearly torn off in the limo) was more than ready to relax. Preferably soaking, warm, fuzzy and serviced thoroughly while nipping on something alcoholic of a fine vintage. The Olympia Baths could provide and sate his desires most perfectly and thus he had cleared his agenda, making it very clear that he would be unreachable for as long as he desired to unwind, and had set proverbial sail. None dared to object, not so much due to the nature of the stern company chief, but more due to how those who had the right to object to a suddenly disappearing Walker also knew quite well how the bounce in his footstep and the clear, sharp mind would be once again back after such a vanishing act. The only cell he was carrying was a private one, and only to ring his driver to pick him up again.<br/><br/>Of course Darryl had had more than enough training and experience to keep his current state from his features and out of his stance as he strode through the lobby as if he were heading to yet another meeting. He didn't so much ignore the other men before Eduardo's desk, but didn't wait for all too long for his curt nod and quiet address. If he'd wait too long, he might simply come undone on the marble and he'd rather keep face, even here, as this was still semi-open space. Minimally, he'd untie his long hair that was still in its tail and tightly pulled back.<br/><br/>"Eduardo. I trust everything is in order," he greeted the man in a non-descriptive manner, shooting him a faint smile that nowhere reached his eyes, the only hint to just how exhausted and stressed he was the drumming fingers on the man's desk.