Like anything, no matter what the tune, there was always a piper to pay. She was unfortunate to have brought her when he wasn?t around. The unexpected guest in a house that wasn?t her own was a heavy thing to atone for.

Tonight, she sought to tie the loose end she frayed. At least it didn?t cause a fuss this time. No heat would come to anyone. She was sure to hug the shadows tight while escorting the target away from those after her.

Still, it was not her house. She left a message for him promptly after arriving that night. Bruised, and beaten, she had made sure to arrange an appointment. She had much to explain.

With a do involving the Technicolor riot of braids, knots, and beads it was hard to come across as somber.

The moral of the story was that it was a haven that was not hers. And although she had contributed to its furnishings and its maintenance, it was not her house.

Had he have been there, she would have spoken with him immediately upon arrival. That was then. This was the time to account for herself. And for the unexpected guest she brought with her without permission.

She wasn?t afraid as much as she was expectant. Brother was mysterious in his reception of her mishaps. This wasn?t as much of a mishap as it was a short-notice incident. Either way, Chase always expected the worse. Usually, it made the impact less of a tremor.

She hated to upset Him. Chase never meant to hurt anyone. And in fact had done what she did to protect another. That in consideration, however, did not change the rule.

This was not her house.

Clad in a black one piece 70?s suit, numerous pockets and zippers dotted her frame. The colorful mop of dreadlocks was pulled into a single French braid. It was thick, and loosely tied. Dreadlocks could only go so far.

The suit was short sleeved. It exposed the opulent amounts of ink that stained her taut, sun drenched skin. Splintered pupils were thin, adjusting as it saw fit.

Blood and magma were a? storm. It was a soft, silent war that never ended. Walk-healthy boots were worn that clunked against the metal skeleton of the walkways and staircases.

She didn?t meander or dawdle on the ground level. She was searching for the Executive. That wing was above the stairs. Ascending to that level, she dared not enter without acknowledgement. What she did call for was a knock upon his office door. She had applied for his time, not secured it. For all she knew, he was busy picking up the pieces she did not anticipate.

It was soft, in a quartet against the door. Classes colliding, and faint chatter echoed in the establishment. This was an ?off? night. It was obvious by how far the echoes of few voices and glasses went. Usually, it was deafening here.

Digits of ink, steel, and gold wrapped around the facilitated handle after that prompting click that followed the beckoning of words.

Her usual swagger of sways and bebops was there like a stain. But like any worn and treated stain, it was faint. Closing the door behind her with a simple push of her arm, she looked to the room she'd just entered.

The unfamiliar faces were worlds apart, by image. But an unseen seam matched with the powers of silent assumption allowed her theories to string themselves like drops of beads along colorless cords.

"Evening, sir." A simple, casual greeting to his knowledge. Quick. Her eyes fluttered from one to another. And to the other. And to Brother. The one who was given partially unconditional attention.

Chase did her best to solely focus on her Employer. But the Gypsy, with an uncontrollable sense of curiosity, and an alarming amount of boldness. The markings of a true daredevil died hard. Hers was far from its grave.

"Evenin', everyone.." She began. Perhaps, she hoped for an introduction. If not an introduction, a straight bullet to the heart of the matter. She braced for reprimand like the lashings of a slave halted with a fearful anticipation. She waited. Hourglasses were frozen, in this room. She felt the difference.

When in Brother's personal domain, the difference was obvious. Glorious decorations and a subliminal decor hid it from many. Chase's sensitivities would allow her to notice.