Harold

Harold rolls his eyes "Kindred and their clubs. You wouldn't be so excited if you looked like you'd been thrice run over by a street sweeper. Is there maybe something else about the club that can't be determined by walking in the front door? That's what I'm good with. I could find a window, or pick a lock or something. Find my way into the manager's office. I dunno."

He shrugs and sinks back into the chair, actually seeming quite sullen and bitter about not being the right type of character to be checking out a club scene.