[hr][color=silver][indent][indent]
After the sweaty mitt of the client retracted from Serge's hand, he wobbled out of the noodle shop with a smug sense of self-importance, his goons slinking behind him like a messy shadow. [color=white]"Pleasure to do business with you,"[/color] he had said with a throaty chuckle. The patrons all watched as they pushed out the front door. A child sat up and pointed, before being quickly hushed down by their mother. After the doors clacked shut, there was but a moment's pause before the place's atmosphere kicked back up in full swing, as if nothing had ever happened, with only a few wary eyes still lending frequent sidelong glances to the team's table. Just another Tuesday here. 

And just as apathy set in to her surroundings, Jack simply leaned back in her seat nonchalance, arm hooked over the back rest. [color=white]"I guess that didn't go down too well, did it?"[/color] she said, even-toned, while in one hand she fiddled with the knife that she had threatened the man with. She acted unfazed, calloused. The boot-heel to her toes barely elicited a response as Síofra's stomp thudded off her dermal plating. The words of caution from the others mostly were replied with a clench of the jaw. She knew she was trouble, and she made it very clear then that she didn't care. 

[color=white]"Oh great,"[/color] she rasped, pulling the bill from the edge of the table, placed there by the nervous newbie waiter, [color=white]"Looks like the bastard left us with his check."[/color]

[hr]
Rapid drips of mud-sogged water formed a dirty puddle in the concrete labyrinth, showing the darkened reflections of the team as they stepped through the dank tunnels to Síofra's hideaway. There were occasional sounds of skittering rats in the darkness, all amplified by the echoing of this underground chamber. People passed, few and far between, going about their own business. Some seemed like obvious criminals moving about unseen, and some seemed like normies getting from point A to B. Either way, everybody kept to their own business. As long as everyone here had something to hide, nobody was going to blow any whistles. 

After the ocular haze of security scanning, the blunt and metallic thud of heavy door bolts, and the wheezing hiss of admittance, the team were at their base for the night. The awkward scene of Síofra and company played out in the team's brief silence, leaving Jack with crossed arms and Serge with a burning question. [color=white]"Isn't it obvious by the animosity, Clean?"[/color] Jack cut in, stepping through the vault hatch with the appearance of a door, [color=white]"They're family."[/color]

The interior of the was spacious and well-furnished despite the steamy pipes all over the walls and the boiler in the corner. No apartment was exactly beyond prying eyes, and anything but a ground floor certainly couldn't handle the octoped's heft, or link straight into the abandoned subway. And so there was one real choice, an apartment complex basement. Ms Cheong, the swarthy and elderly landlady, kept her mouth shut so long as the rent was paid and they kept the pipes running. Though, for the most part, the place was rather livable. 

And Lilly did indeed play the polite little hostess for these well-armed and well-cybered strangers. The teen invited these street agents in, pulled out chairs out by the dinner table, and offered to take their coats. And when she did she hung them all right over the trigger to Síofra's shop. Suddenly, it seemed as if maybe the girl was being a little [i]too[/i] polite. And, indeed, Lilly was trying to distract from and hide the shop, because it was a disaster in there. Gear broken and scattered across the floor, tool boxes completely spilled, and stores of spare parts turned to scrap. In the middle of it all lay Octy in a splayed pile, chrome tendrils spanning much of the room, and its controller dropped to the ground in the corner. It seemed like Lilly had herself an accident while playing around with the big girl toys.[/indent][/indent][/color][hr]