Convention

The woman behind the table peered up at him through her thick glasses. Three other people, two women and and a man, paused in their labors in the area behind the tables. They stared at the tall man.

The greeter's nametag read "Hello, my name is ELIZABETH." Her voice carried a slight hitch when she asked, "Welcome to Greycon! Could I get your name, please?"

"It would be under R. Ramaj." The man spoke so quietly that the woman had to lean forward to understand him.

The woman chewed on the end of her pen, the white plastic already covered with small pockmarks, as she scanned the stapled reservation list before her. "R...R...Radden, Ralkin, ah, Ramaj." She turned to look over her shoulder and addressed the man behind her. "Joe, could you dig through the boxes and get the packet for a Ramaj, T?"

"Sure thing, Liz." It took a few seconds for Joe to retrieve the manila folder. When it was passed over, T's fingertips left red smudges on the yellow paper. "That's a pretty intricate costume, friend. This your first con?"

"First time here, yes. I have been to others, however. Thank you for your help." He doffed his wide-brimmed hat to the two of them before turning to his right and marching down the hallway, cutting through the other convention-goers.

Joe crossed his arms and shook his head. "I swear, that is the best Convention Carver getup I've ever seen."