GILLIAN & CIAN -- OUTSIDE THE CLINIC: 5:00PM.
Eren went stumbling out of the clinic first, half of his face still in bandages. The mercenary had taken quite a few bad hits on his last job, and this, the Pharist clinic, had been the nearest place to find a reliable healer. So it was that his employer came to rouse a report out of him, while the details were still fresh in his mind.
After being told all of the sordid details, it was likely that Gillian would add a new fee to client's bill.
While Eren went shuffling over to the hovercar, waiting solemnly in the backseat and nursing another sour-tasting potion for the remainder of his wounds, Gillian stood on the sidewalk, her eyes catching sight of another man who seemed to have found his way into an ugly fight. This neighborhood was growing quite excited lately, she reminded herself.
Dressed currently in civilian attire, Gillian reached inside her jacket for a slim metal case. "Trouble on your way home?" She asked conversationally, taking out a cigarette for herself. These were premium tobacco, hand-rolled--not the sort of thing you'd find in the corner shop down the street.