Fixer waits patiently under the neon glow that basked the windowless underground garage in her red skinned sylph morph. Her equipment is laid out all around, a pair of automech are at rest nearby. The back of the garage is occupied with a large, armored truck.
[Are you sure about this, Fix?] Turing, her muse asked. [This could be a trap, remember last night?]
[Doubtful. But if it is the case, back up will be here in no time.] She said, flipping through sets of entoptic display
[Our guest is requesting permission to enter. He's alone.] Turing said.
[Let him in.] She declared, unlocking the lift to the surface.
((In case you're wondering Fixer (a.k.a Wei) doesn't identify with either gender. And so generally doesn't mind what she's reffered to as in term of pronoun.))
In the sea without lees
Standeth the bird of Hermes
Eating his wings variable
And maketh himself yet full stable