Lyn smiled as Miro gave in with little retaliation. Truly at the moment she had no will to fight, and would've passed without further discussion if he continued his protest. [i][color=a187be]But I need to see if I can get some information from the surface.[/color][/i] As Miro ran off to change, so did she. A low key profile was needed. She needed to look like someone who didn't belong, but in all the right ways. Lyn clothed herself in long, dirty rags. Brown cargos, ripped and tattered with old arm-sling bandages covering the holes. Several battered t-shirts, a tattered jacket and a long, moth-bitten cloak. [color=a187be][i]Pretty convincing, if I didn't know any better, I'd say your homeless.[/i][/color] The Thinker glanced around, taking in the sewer-base. [color=a187be][i]Wait a second.[/i][/color]

The ride to the aforementioned bar was uneventful. For some reason the streets were awfully quite tonight. Even as they sped down one of the main roads she could see the helicopters several miles off, surveying the destruction they had caused earlier, searching for any clues. [color=a187be][i]I'm just glad we didn't loose any girls that day...[/i][/color] As the bike slid softly to a halt, Lyn reached up and around her neck, adjusting the scrap-cloth bandanna that concealed everything sub her eyes.

The bar stunk, but that's what bars do right? You could almost cut the smoke in the air with a knife. Various crumbs of food littered the floor, making it obvious that it was a high-trafficked establishment. This was exactly the type of establishment she needed. Slowly and carefully, the hooded person made their way up to the bar, their sex well disguised. Lyn carefully avoided the prying glances of patrons, pondering to themselves what the homeless man wanted. 

The robbed figure hopped onto the bar stool, locking eyes with the bar-keep. Her deathly blue orbs glaring him down, attempting to read him as a man. It was quite obvious she was not a normal patron. The Thinker pulled her hand towards her side, revealing plainly to the man the handgun she was reaching for, [color=a187be]"If the spooks show up..."[/color] her hand continued past the gun-metal, instead opting for the wallet placed strategically behind it. Lyn withdrew a sizeable amount of cash, in the neighborhood of the low thousands, and pushed it towards the barkeep, [color=a187be]"... I'm re-decorating your bar, if you get where I'm coming from."[/color] Lyn coughed violently, grasping her throat in pain before continuing. Though her voice was very raspy from her injuries, the feminine undertones were still there. [color=a187be]"Now please, four shots of whiskey. I don't have a preference, just give me the rough stuff."[/color]