Ruby's tiny sedan purrs to a halt in a public parking structure a few blocks from Final Atonement. Today she's dressed practically in clothing close to the skin so that it won't snag. Her hair is tied up in a tight bun, and she carries a field notebook and a small durable purse with a few metal tools (and a can of mace, nearly on the verge of expiration). She doesn't bother much with variety, being perfectly capable of shaping her tools to the task as the need arises.
She would have given Akroma a ride.