âYour girl wonât stop texting me~â
Youâd think that was a FLEX. Think she was just talking shit, trying to needle her way under that High Tech Dermal Armor⊠Itâs a logical thought, sheâs known for being a saboteur, for being a spy and, more importantly, a fucking nuisance. Nyeh-heh-heh, she wouldnât be offended if that was your thought process~
 Which is why she pulled out her phone, handing the holographic list of âreceiptsâ to the agent. Dozens. Dozens. Maybe even HUNDREDS of messages, all from varied numbers, I.D.less contacts, unknown bits of tech, sheâd narrowed a few of those strange numbers down to Washing Machines in cities not-so-fucked over by recent events.
   âSheâs practically begging for it~â The chuckle that escaped her was more human than it was devious. It spoke to the catastrophically sapio-horny monster within her, as opposed to the cold black hat she was when the cameras were rolling. âI figured I should say something to you before I responded⊠In case you wanted any specifics fitted to her. Blonde hair, extra room in the back, extra work in the front?â
 Hands slipped into her coatâs pocket, she shuffled up to, and past the spikey agent, pulling the Newspaper article up from the table behind him. How adorable. He kept her pictures on hand.
   âAlso, traditionally, patients like to have âa loved oneâ at their side when they undergo operations⊠I figure its impossible for you to commit to something so, ah, polite? So, Iâll just need a photo of you to put on her bedside. Have the first soul she sees with mechanical eyes be yours.â
 Fingers twisted, strings of code affected in the aether, she activated her phoneâs front-facing camera for a SURPRISE selfie. Assuming heâd, heh, shy away from an actual photo~ Boop.
   âWeâll be in the basement of Tai Yongâs Outpatient Office, in the Stone District⊠Yâknow, by the ice cream shop? Hope to see you there, Jensen~ Sheâll probably cry if you no-show.â