Ravyn strides in with an air of dreamy surreality and two earbuds nestled neatly against his ear drums.  He finds an empty booth to sit and looks around questioningly awaiting a waiter/ess.  His calm nature is interrupted occasionally by brushes of the nose in somewhat of a nervous manner.  Pounding rhythms of synthesized kick drums bounce off at 200 beats per minute against the concave of his ears putting him in a bit of a trance.  After another nervous glance for a server he settles himself into the booth seat with a soft sigh.