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Clint was rather suprised at the kids cooperative reaction. He didn't seriously expect the kid to pay full price, but who's complaining? Tristan held up his arm signaling that Clint could remove the chip, when Arson and Tab burst in from the back room.

"DAMNIT CLINT! TURN OFF THOSE BLOODY GATTLING GUNS!" Screamed Arson. Clint had thought for sure all the bugs had been worked out since giving control over to eevee. As it turned out, they had retracted at eevee's command, but fired inside the ceiling and scaring the guests all the same. "Man, now I have another mess to clean up fixing the ceiling..." said clint. "Eevee for god sake shut off the guns." Eevee simply replied, "The command to shut them off has been issued, but the firing mechanism appears not to be connected to my networks, only the retractors. I cannot deactivate them unless they are connected."

Clint then remembered his half assed installation a week earlier... he didn't do the last step of connecting them... "Looks like we'll just have to wait until they run out of ammo. I'll fix them later... Anyways kid, I can't just take your chip out at will, it requires special equiptment that I have in a secret compartment in that whiskey cellar. So are all the replacement chips unfortunately. You'll have to wait for a replacement until the guns are done. I can deactivate your tracking device however." He knew what the kid was thinking. Tracking device? Then he just led the AIA strait to the Demon's Tear! "Don't worry about it kid, I've got a Jammer that scrambles the thing within a certain radius. It'll read that your chip is somewhere in the McDonalds down the road."

Eevee then perked up again. "You're not seriously going to charge him for it are you?" Clint sighed again. "Nah, I was just kiddin." When in all reality he wasn't. The bar did take some bribing to run, and that was kind of expensive, so he was looking for any extra cash left and right. Fortuanately the drunks covered most of it with thier purchases. Eevee gave him the preprogrammed guilty stare. "What I said I wasn't going to charge him!" She seemed satisfied, and her face on the screen went back to default expression.

Clint then took Tristan's arm and swept what looked like a blacklight over the surface. It was a gesture similar to when your purchase required human interaction in a store. They scanned your chip to take payment. "There should be a buzzing tingly feeling in your arm for awhile, and it may even get a little hot but don't worry it'll stop eventually. If all else fails you won't have to worry about it after we remove it." He finally decided that there was no threat and holstered his revolver.

With a smile, he whispered back over his shoulder, nodding towards the drunks merrily going about their business, seemingly oblivious to the events around them. "Income."

"Well, I hate to interrupt, but I'm glad you didn't charge him the full 5000 unos for a chip removal. Though," He said, turning towards the young man standing in front of the counter.

"I am impressed that you were willing to pay it. Tell me, what's your name?" He asked, obviously interested in how this boy was so eager to join their cause.

Tab looked over at them with a puzzled expression, studying their strange movements. Why would anyone drink something that made them behave like that? She didn't really get it, but then again, she didn't understand lots of things. People were just downright weird sometimes. Most of the time, she didn't consider herself in the same category.

Losing intrest in the drunken men hooting and laughing stupidly, Tab's gaze fell upon the man Arson was talking to, but he was more boring than the drunks. Slipping away from them, she slinked through the complex with utmost curiosity while eagerly serching for something- anything, to give her a clue as to where she was....and how to get out.

Tristan held his forearm close. The warm sensation Clint described was only beginning to subside, and Tristan had been confused by some of the events that had since unfolded.

He had to answer the man that seemed to know more about what was going on than anyone else in the room (except Clint, but even then...). He didn't even know the man's name, but he had to answer the man without showing fear. This was not to prove anything to anyone except himself.

"I... My name is Tristan Meredith. If you're wondering why I'm here, I was a student that asked too many questions and was jailed on suspicion of character. Of course, the pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple."

The man seemed collected. Tristan wanted to talk to this person and ask him all kinds of questions, but there were matters to attend to.

"If it's possible, I'd like to ask you... many questions. But as you know, I need to solve a problem concerning my ID chip. So, please excuse me."

With that, Tristan followed after Clint into the back room, remaining wary of the rotating barrels on the empty guns.

After much scurrying and roaming, Tab finally came across a small window that she could peer outside....maybe squeeze out if she tried hard enough. Placing her cheek to the window, she zipped up her hoodie in the conclusion that it was cold outside, going by how icy it felt against her face. She didn't like this place...besides, she was hungry and tired. Tab was always tired in general, tired of everything. People, the AIA, running, being worried, having to steal and lie, hiding. Everything just made her tired, and maybe de-activation wouldn't be so bad...If it was anything like sleeping.

Pushing on the window lightly at first, Tab scowled when she discovered it was locked. Sighing, she struck the metal clasp with her elbow a few times, untill she heard a satisfying 'clink' and a tiny sliver of chilly air hit her face. Pushing it open with a small squeak, Tab hopped ontop of a crate and began her escape.

It was dark outside, utterly perfect. She could smell the fresh air, even though it was tinted with city litter and motor oil. Tab didn't mind in the least, it was wonderful to her. She never got tired of all the diffrent smells, especially the food ones.

"Alrighty then Tristan. Eevee will be performing the operation on in that chair over behind the shelves." He pointed to the indicated chair, looking like it was falling apart from lack of use. It even had a spring right in the middle of the seat, which would have to be pulled out if it was even to be sittable in. It was clear that the chair hadn't been used in awhile....

Little to be know to Tristan, the chair had never been used, nor intended to be used, as other members had never agreed to have thier chips surgically removed and replaced, but rather reprogrammed through a painless wireless connection. There really was no other purpose for this chair in fact than for a medical emergency, just in case they happened across a doctor willing to help in that rare occasion... Clint figured eevee would scare the kid with a couple drills and knives, then they'd all have a laugh about the look on his face later. "Now I wonder if I finished that camera in the chair..." He said as he pulled a ladder up to fix the guns. He hadn't...

With a nod, Arson turned his back, looking over his shoulder as he speaks. "Fine- but here."

He shouted back over his shoulder with his usual firm voice, and threw what appeared to be a small communicator over his back, causing it to land softly in the snow near the figure.

"If you ever need any help, give us a call. Someone will bethere in a second." With that, he gestured his arm back to his side with a flutter of his cloak, letting it lay idly as his waste.

"Adios'." He called back, trudging off across the cold rooftop. Hopefully, he thought, she won't need to use that communicator.

Tristan stared at the dilapidated chair. It seemed as though it were not used in years. Which meant that what was about to be done to him had not been done in years, if at all.

But who was he to question the methods of the underground? Who was he to doubt his salvation?

Tristan walked over to the chair, and took hold of the spring. The spring didn't have to be a part of his salvation. "Rrrgh!" Tristan grunted as he tried to pull the spring out of the chair. He manipulated it for a while, trying to get it loose. He jiggled it in its space, he stretched it and compressed it. He pulled hard, and he pulled in quick succession.

It came free after great exertion. He placed the defeated spring on the ground next to the chair, and finally submitted to sitting in the neglected chair.