"Tommy was..." Talesin said softly. The already quiet room seemed to hush a bit more, a few heads turned their way. "Before he worked corporate, he was one of us." From the way Talesin said 'us', it was easy to tell he was talking about more than just some sort of club member at this seedy bar.

"We do work for a variety of people, some of them corps, usually outside of the more legal side of things." That statement itself was rather innocuous, in this day and age, people did things outside the legality of law all the time. Bureaucracy was slow and law cared little for anyone without a fat wallet, so most people skirted around the law from time to time to get things done in order to survive- small companies and stores, even Ray's Bar went outside the law occasionally. Most were fairly minor infractions, so the police either ignored them, or charged a small fee to pad their own pockets along with it. However, the meaning behind that statement was something Hisano was vaguely familiar with.

"We've been called a variety of things- freelancers, mercenaries, thugs, hitmen. Tommy was one of us, a bit too bleeding heart for his own good, but he was good at what he did. After joining up with Vitality Macrotech, he's been out of touch, this is the first I'd heard of him in a year."

Talesin shook his head as she mentioned that she couldn't stay. "You walk out that door and there's a 70% chance you die before the sun rises. After they kill you, they trace your tracks back to the Fixer's Hope and then we burn too. You staying here is better for you [i]and[/i] for us."

Looking around, Talesin gestured for Hisano to follow him. "We'll figure our your next move tomorrow, for now you should get some rest. You'll need to be on your A-Game if you want to survive the next few days."  

[hr]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/0Twqacp.jpg[/img]
[sup]Fixer's Hope - Safehouse[/sup]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hq0kgSHsfe8]Music[/url][/center]
Sitting on top of the bar that was Fixer's Hope was a small apartment building- much like her own home. Space in the city was scarce, so it wasn't surprising that even seedy, poor areas like the Chinese Quarter built themselves up. The outside of the apartment room door was as unremarkable as the rest of the doors in the hall, the light in its section of the hallway conveniently out of order, leaving the door almost completely shrouded in darkness. As Talesin opened the plain wood door, Hisano could hear the magnetic hiss of high-tech mag-locks, something Hisano had never seen outside of Vitality Macrotechnology's high-security office or a bank vault.

As the door opened, it was plain to tell that the shoddy wood on the outside of the door was just a panel, and the door itself was some sort of reinforced metal. The apartment itself was small, similar in square footage to her own home, though it was considerably less crowded. Despite that, there was still clutter in every corner of the room- though not the type of clutter Hisano expected of a home. Instead of dirty laundry and ramen containers littering the tables and floor, there were medical supplies, handguns and empty weapon magazines. A suit of traditional japanese armor- which must've been worth a small fortune sat by the door, and a katana leaned against the desk with a computer. A bed sat next to the desk, with a ladder heading up to possibly the roof of the building, and next to the bed were several long, olive drab military crates and a guided missile launcher almost casually leaning against the wall nearby.

Talesin sat down onto the nearby couch and picked up one of the firearms on the table, inspecting it. He gestured towards the bed, "Rest, Fixer's Hope is safe enough for now."