Daxim was drawing a map while the Ranger across from him spoke about the numerous problems he was having. His condition wasn't too odd, but it could have serious detrimental consequences with certain Rangers. Daxim smiled and nodded before handing the man the map. "Where does this lead?" "You'll see. Bring a bit of cash, you'll need it." The map led to the local brothel. The man needed it. "Now, out. I have someone else coming in in about five minutes." The Ranger thanked him and left. Daxim stretched and replaced his mask since he'd taken it off a few minutes before. With it on he looked slightly intimidating, with it off he hoped he looked more approachable. But he was more comfortable with it on. When he'd first gotten the mask he'd hated it. He'd hated all the cybernetics. He hated their glow, their hardness, how they made him less human... Now he didn't mind them. Actually, they were pretty cool. "Right then..." He didn't need to do much. Just turned off the main lights and switched on the reading lights. This place was mostly used by drunk Rangers, but Daxim also read here. Anywhere else was too noisy. He had three chairs prepared. This in itself was a test. The first was a grey metal thing, unfriendly looking and close to the door. If she chose this one, he had some serious progress to make. The second was an armchair, warm and comfortable. It was close to a light and a desk, but far from the door. This would show she was willing to trust him. The third was a couch. Daxim would be sitting on one side of it, and if she chose it he'd make sure nothing was wrong with her. Then he'd start flirting. Couldn't blame a man for trying, could you? Dax picked up his file on her. Her name, which he didn't want to try to pronounce until he heard it, her age, when she'd joined... It was a little piece of card. He just called it a file because it made him sound professional. He walked over to his heavy coat on the hanger. He was only wearing a loose white shirt with his heavy pants, the duster being placed on a hook, along with his pistols. He never wore weapons. The card went into an inside pocket, out of sight. He'd start from scratch with her. Finally, Dax stood in the middle of the room. He rarely got tired standing, a huge advantage from his legs. He'd be ready for her when she knocked, or opened the door or whatever the case may be.