She heard a few voices chattering over the clicking and clattering of her computer keys and the constant electric drone of her processor and her monitors, garnering her attention to turn around in the ratty and misshapen swivel chair she sat in and face the old driftwood door marred with several scratches and dents, most of them covered up by the large [url=http://store.vampirefreaks.com/product_get_pic.php?pid=3079&pic_num=3]black poster[/url] that was stuck to it with bent, rusty nails and thumbtacks, already ripped slightly in the lower left corner. The others must have arrived by now, Nora thought, and if so then she had better introduce herself to the team, something.....she really didn't want to do. Standing from her chair and giving it a gentle push back to her desk, Nora snatched from the back of it the Rammstein hoodie that was precariously hanging from it and threw it on over her black tanktop, pulling the hood snug over her head and fishing from the pocket an extra pack of cigarettes. She stuck one between her lips and lit it before taking a slow drag and exhaling a ghostly wisp of smoke into the thin, underground air. 

Nora could hear more voices as she made her way into the main room of the hideout, pretty swanky for a den of loathsome thieves, misers, and modern day brigands. Nora was kinda expecting the place to look like the Ragged Flagon, seeing as she and the rest of these outcasts were based underground, beneath a city that barely gave a shit about any of them, or at the least didn't care about Nora. Or her other expectation is the place would be rather cluttered and a bit trashy, probably smell like stale bread, kinda like the apartment she once had in East Village. "Hey hey." Nonchalantly she spoke to whoever was in the room, a bit of a blunt and emotionless greeting to them as Nora wasn't one for making introductions, or for speaking to people in general, even if she did know them.

She sat down on the couch farthest from the group, slipping from the front pocket of her hoodie a seemingly normal iPhone, but what lied beyond the cracked and scuffed screen of this, in more recent terms, dinosaur of technology was an impressive amount of modified circuitry and hardware, not to mention some powerful software, that could grab New York by the balls with a swipe of the wrist. It was a gift to her from an old acquaintance, a renegade hacker and anarchist such as her, known only by his handle in the community as P35til3Nc3 or for the illiterate in leet, Pestilence. What looked like some punk college kid playing a rousing and monotonous game of Angry Birds was actually a skilled and often dangerous cyber-criminal, now skimming through some very confidential files pilfered from under the nose of one Mayor Richter Howard. Damn....wouldn't his debutante wife love to see all that Nora had seized from the hardrive of her unfaithful husband's laptop.