Titanium held a pause at Mercy's intial question, letting the banter bounce across the room before she answered with a bit of a wry, long term 'in-the-biz' remark. "He didn't try to get us high before the meet so he could attempt to rip us off, so I'll give him at least a D," she noted, giving a little insight into her actual, proper, formal education within the system, some sort of system that didn't involve running away from daily gunfire, or learning how to tell a dealer to go bork themselves with a retractable baton. That being said, she cast her eyes to the fourth, the man introducing himself as Fy, who must have been the last, for the door he shut behind him. Maybe she had overdressed for the occasion (She had, but that was the point) just a little too much, given those around her. Was the ankle length split length dress a slight too bit fancy, even for her intentionally overshot mark? No, she decided finally. She took up residence right at the door, far enough in that if opened, it wouldn't smack her in the back of the head.
So, Mercy was the muscle. Fy added to this muscle, as well as a smattering of other talents. Someone was the decker, Beetle, but maybe not the rigger. And she wasn't sure about the one titled Arachnos though. In an attempt to tease it out of him, she waited for the short pause in conversation, finally introducing herself properly. Good chance to know who knew what, as well. She studied the reactions carefully.
"And I'm Titanium. Pilot, smuggler, armourer, face, "she accented, showing her... distaste for the word, but it so easily described her abilities and skills with the spoken word in more than any lengthy sentence could to the average shadowrunner or their compatriots. She thought to add more, but decided to hold her tongue, for the moment, eyeing off their reactions, and listening before adding any more. She turned her head to Fy, busying himself with looking at cocktails. "The man would hardly have to remind us,"