Given she hadn't known who she was meeting, or that there would be anyone waiting besides herself, and of course the location of the meet, Rhiannon had opted for her steampunk armour collection. While everyone waited, she busied herself by trying to look impatient and uninterested, smoothing her short skirt down over the pink lace petticoat that peeked out from underneat, checking her nails whenever she wasn't tapping them on the table top, and all the while one foot in it's high-heeled oxford bouncing restlessly in a manner that was designed to be potentially annoying to those close to her. This was, of course, because Rhiannon was really studying everyone crammed into the booth with her, trying to gauge who they are and what they do by their appearances and reactions to each other, and herself. She wouldn't run their faces with her software, not yet, at least; that would certainly have to qualify as cheating. A fun little game to pass the time.<br/><br/>Once the Johnson appeared, Rhiannon listened impassively, keeping her face neutral, wondering why she'd be picked for this kind of a job? This sounded like the kind of thing you'd put together a proper strike team for, but not something that would require much in the kind of things Rhiannon was usually hired. Truth is, when bullets start flying, she much preferred finding something solid to hide behind while the samurai and the mage cleaned things up. However, by the Johnson's own admission, this was just a trial, which made Rhiannon curious.<br/><br/>"It sounds to me like all you need for this op is a hacker and demolitions with a few guns to back them up. Why then, would you need me, unless it's for the sequel you have in mind? Could you perhaps entice us with a hint of what the second job will be?" She'd always had trouble reigning that curiousity in.