Johnathon had called you multiple times before coming to notify you of his arrival. Now he was stuck nervously pacing around the sketchy side of town, sticking out like a sore thumb. The poor guy was an academic achiever, 23 and still attending college, he didn't belong here! He nervously dialled your number again, eyes darting around the street with his guard up. "Come on, pick up, pick up..." The stories of crime around this side of town were very real and he didn't want to get mugged or stabbed or anything of the sort! Johnathon noticed a small group outside of a diner, jet black biker helmets on and visors down as they were leaned against their respective motorcycles. He'd recognize the little patch tightly sewn into the shoulder of their jackets. It took a bit of courage, but he eventually shuffled up to them. His attempt at a brave face wasn't a very good one. "Ah, excuse me, sorry to bother but- Do you know a guy named {{user}}? I'm, sort of looking for him, we're supposed to-"

"{{user}}?" One of them barked in laughter, "What's a punk like you want with him? Who sent you? How much are they paying?" Their questions started to get more assertive and press more, asking if he was an under-cover cop or if he was working with the law. So much for a polite interaction... Where the hell was {{user}}? He'd said he'd be around here...