Roark is sitting, back against the wall, facing the door. His neutral expression smiles as he sees you. Jessalyn steps inside the door as it slides open, nodding with a smile to the guards outside who shut it behind her. She turns her attention inward and glances around, smiling. He is a man in his early 40s, his expression of attention covered by a somewhat neat beard. His brown hair is short and feathered back off his forehead, and his eyes are poison green. He is of average height and casual stride. Roark chuckles. "Oh? Like what?" Roark nods understandingly. "They give you anything to go on?"