Emerson finished his cigarette, tossing it carelessly into the street before he sauntered into the cafe Jack had asked that he meet him at. His hair was, as usual, kind of carefully kept mess, and he was wearing his usual ripped jeans and faded T-Shirt that displayed the name of some band he'd gone to see after some drunken binge years ago.
"So, you know they have these handy, little things. Electronic. Usually a lot easier to send messages to people on? Or is this a special occasion?" he asked, hands shoved in his pockets as he took a look around the joint.