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Byakuran stepped into the room with complete confidence. He's himself, after all, and all that entails.
He's always himself.
The man sitting at the table seemed remarkable for one reason and one reason only: he didn't recall meeting him in another life (another world). His pinkish brown hair almost looked natural -- his dye-job had likely been touched up recently -- and as for his scent, (he'd learned to notice everything; science and magic [not that they were different] only went so far) well. Faintly earthy, mostly roses and milkweed and a bit of swamp, and nothing at all of sweat or perfume or humanity. Curious. "Good morning," the man said distinctly, expression slightly sleepy.
He could work with that. "Morning! I'm Byakuran."
"Marluxia," he said smoothly. He inclined his head and extended an arm; a few rose petals dropped from his sleeve. "I've heard you like to garden?"
"Hoh~? One could say that." Gardening, after all, was all careful weeding and tricking the chosen plants into their best behavior.
"Would you be interested in a new variety? It's a bit... aggressive, but I'm sure someone of your caliber could convince it to behave properly."
He needed excitement anyway. "I'd love a challenge," he murmured.
This could be interesting.