Milton arrives at the appointed time, down to the very minute. He's dressed in one of his seemingly countless suits, this one as unremarkable as the rest. Tonight, however, he sports a bow tie. An oddly whimsical touch, which is actually the result of a regrettable delay in the delivery of his dry cleaning. He'd had to improvise, not something this stiff is very comfortable with. Oh well.
Milton has not bothered to counterfeit life, preferring to forgo the waste of vitae whenever possible. As a result, he looks more like a wax figure than a living, breathing man.
He carries a leather laptop bag in his left hand and knocks at the open door with his right before stepping into the meeting room. His beast hisses at the rival, but he smothers the asp with a cookie-cutter smile.
"Priscus Durant, good evening." He offers a curt bow, acknowledging her position within the domain. "You look ravishing as usual." Does he actually find her attractive? Who knows. It's unclear if Milton finds anyone or anything aesthetically pleasing.
Equipment: laptop with full suite of financial software, smart phone.