Background:
You’ve all been in training for two or three weeks at the DIMR office in Bellevue.  If you want, the office has made arrangements for special asset accommodations (which aren’t fancy, but they pay for them) at the Renton Inn, or at a more remote coffin motel in Redmond with the badly humorous name of Stoker’s.  If you already have your own accommodations, that’s fine.

Meeting:
You show up for your afternoon training, but instead get taken to an internal conference room, with no windows.  The lady at the end of the table is fairly young, tall, thin, black, and wears her hair in a short afro.  She’s wearing a simple, straight dress in a dark green, and is flipping through something on her link as you come in.

Looking up with a slight smile, she says, “Good morning.  I’m Sylvia Roberts.  Some of you know me already.  Some don’t.  At least for now, I’m going to be handling your assignments.  I’m the head of our Special Assets division for this facility, such as it is at the moment.  If you’ve been paying attention, you know your team is our first real foray into internal operatives for this sort of thing.  As we grow, you may end up with another liaison, but for now, I’m it.”

“I’m going to assume that you’ve seen one another in passing during your training, but since some of you have been in different areas or on different schedules, I’ll give you a few minutes to get acquainted, before we get you going on your first assignment.”

Miyako enters the room, looking around at the unexpected change in room with the Dunkelzahn Institute of Magical Research (DIMR), before taking a seat.

Except for her boots and motorcycle style helmet, which has a completely blacked out visor. She is clad in a purple latex skin tight suit from head to toe, along with latex gloves.  Long straight red hair nearly down to her butt drops out of the helmet behind her.  This girl is exceptionally slender, as her hip bones are showing with the latex.  If you have seen her before, she always has her helmet on, and you have never seen her take it off.

Picture in description

Good morning Sylvia,  I'm Miyako, i'm sure that is in your notes.   Thanks for picking an inside room.

Even though the room is inside, the girl keeps one eye on the door.

 The door to the room opens and immediately the signal on everyone's comlinks drops a bar or two. A young elven woman, edging close to teen really, steps though the threshold with bright blue hair tucked up in a beanie and a heavy leather jacket with remarkably diverse array of decorations and patches sewn into it. "What’s the story?" She asks in a syrupy accent which somehow still expresses a youthful flippancy towards being ordered about.

Spike is sitting with his feet propped up on a briefcase sized gadget covered over in Trog Metal stickers. When Elizabeth walks in his head snaps up and he looks at the commlink on his wrist "What the hell? Hey choom whatever that is can you turn it off? I gotta lotta hardware, I'm trying to monitor over here."

He's a painfully lean young man with purple hair and motorcycle street gear. He doesn't seem particularly metaled up other than a glint of chrome at the base of his spine and the data cable surreptitiously trailing down his sleeve to the case at his feet.