Briar's Apartment; Reece and Briar
You have no idea how hard it is to dress for an occasion when you don't know the occasion. Reece had spent well over an hour in front of his mirror, his hair mussed from removing shirts and ties in quick succession and with repetition. What he'd settled on was way too bland for his normal tastes—a black knit sweater and nice blueish slacks. But, at the very least, he had his new boots to add some pizazz to the lacking ensemble, which was better than nothing. And, uh, obviously, he had his eye and arm with him, because they were physically attached, if not pretty integral, to his body. And while, for someone without an artificial eye that was 90% computer and without a cool myoelectric arm, those two things created quite a bit of pizazz, for Reece they were mundane. He wanted a tie.
He did not wear a tie.
His coat was puffy and black, he was too vain to wear a hat, and he settled for a nice scarf to keep warm as he made the quick bolt from his car to the exterior door of Briar McKenna's building... shop... apartment-thing.—He didn't know if he was meant to climb into vents or what the hell Cat meant by 'collecting,' so that was a little awkward, but, well, he was always a little awkward. No one would notice. He was also pretty alright at flying by the seat of his well-made pants, vents or no. He hoped that skill worked this side of a computer (the outside?). He took a deep breath. And, like an idiot, with his human hand, he knocked on the door. Then he looked for a buzzer. Then he opened the door and poked his head in. The aperture of his pupil dilated automatically as the piece scanned the interior for life and attempted to offer Reece a map, based on a 3D scan. He blinked it out of the way.
It smelled like cheese and, ohmygod, his ears were freezing. "Uh, hello? Is this the black market?"