On entering he barely gave the bouncer a second look. Hairy chicks. Not his style. Besides, it was a job. And there was a non-self-destructive part of him that enjoyed the work. Barely though, because if the shit would hit the fan, he would either have to go through her or fight with her. Depending of course on stuff. His katana was first to go. Nothing fancy. Just a very sharp piece of high industrial steel that worked well to chop meat. And by many a potential employer considered part of his trade. Next was his Ruger Super Warhawk. Even holstered it was amazing. Yet another part of the trade. Not even his favorite weapon, but useful. Next up was the combat knife from his back. And then with a moment of an apologetic grin, he took out an comparatively almost small black box with yellow lightnings on the side. His Defiance Ex. The taser. For when folk were particularly unwilling to follow kind instructions.<br/><br/>And even once undone from all visible weapons, the Elf looked hard. And washed out. Even though he also looked like he just cleaned himself up for the job. Time had been kind of the elf with the one chrome arm. Either that, or time had been hard on him.<br/><br/>He just nodded at the others assembled, his eyes cold and glaring and listened.