“He better get me something,” said Maysah as Arbiter ordered her to sit tight and then jetted off towards the bar. She flashed an annoyed glance over at Alex. The Tower had found himself a nice wall to hold up and his eyes were too busy doing ocular pat downs to catch her exchange. Arbiter returned with just one mug, which he had emptied before even sitting down at the table. Maysah gave him a look of murderous intent. If he was going to drag them into an underworld bar in the middle of the night after someone dropped a literal bomb on them, then he could at the very least buy a lady a drink. 

She leaned back in her chair and let the two fellows chum it up with one another. Patch guessed that they were supers, and before Maysah could deny it Arbiter already spoke up for them. Fine. It didn’t matter if he knew they were superpowered individuals, but if he knew which ones they were. She listened as Peterson offered them information in return for a criminal favor. A rueful smile crossed her face at the reveal that they were being asked to go up against a corporation. Going up against corporations had been what burnt Stardust in the first place, but back then she could at least take a moralistic high ground on her actions. Now, it sounded like she’d be going after one “legitimate” criminal organization to benefit another illegitimate criminal organization. Hardly a prideworthy job.

“It would’ve been rude to interrupt,” said Maysah as Patch called Arbiter out for talking for them, smirking at his ability to get a rise out of Arbiter. She turned to her irritated chauffeur, “But I don’t even know why you bother to ask. I’m no merc, but my decision has been made since Cedar Fort.” 

“Although, this doesn’t sound like a fair deal,” she said to Peterson. “You said it yourself, the information we’re getting you could topple corporations...but it never would be used for that, would it? Much smarter to extort them and keep a nice steady flow of hush money then to blow the whistle and get nothing but branded with stigmata for the rest of your career. Regardless, if you aren’t willing to tease us with a few of those whispers you heard about the warehouse now, couldn’t you at least buy us a meal, rent us a suitable place to stay, and get us some fresh clothes so we aren’t instantly pegged as a bunch of out-of-town super assholes the moment we walk out into the streets?”