[ Raphael's eyes do not so much as light up, but there is a distinct sharpening of his baby-cow brown eyes, as he appraised the man before him. Like looking for the hints of the unusual, for who could tell that he was not human? Raphael had invested a great deal of time into his glamor, after all, and the investment had paid off with most. Truesight, perhaps? Someone with the ability to see through his weaving? Or is perhaps a particularly perceptive individual?

For certain, Raphael's distinct calm is obvious, in the sea of squirming and desperate individuals. Some were hungrily looking to find the mate to their keys, and those with the belts either above or below clothes looked shamed by it.

Why, didn't that make it worse? Not that Raphael was known for his... erm. Restraint. ]

As do I, as it so happens.

[ Leaning forward, his fingers found a glass of wine on the table, and he picked it up, to busy his hands as he spoke. ]

Particularly when one has such a keen eye, and an experienced hand with the... blooded arts, as they are.

[ As if a devil would ever shirk from such things. Raphael may be erudite, but... he was still a devil. ]

I wonder if your games fit the theme of all we've seen in this new, strange land so far?

[ Deflection, perhaps? Raphael certainly was interested enough to learn more about the man before him. ]