Cladded in an eyesore blue, the man retains his smile still as he pronounces himself the Merchant of Blue Death.
An apt name I'd say. For his obvious dressing choice as well as the suffocating aura he's been giving off for a while, yes, this is Death.
It's anyone's guess what he wants and even more vague what he has in the that colourful carriage of his, but whatever it is, I'm sure it won't be all too pleasing to me right now.
"Alright," I begin after a moment of silence and the both of us studying each other, actually, scratch that, the man doesn't look the slightest bit bothered by our hostile stances. He hasn't even bothered to reach for a weapon or something to use in his defence.
He could either be a fool or insanely strong.
I'm betting on the latter even if it doesn't exactly favour my chances against him should he try something funny. I'm just being honest with myself.