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FAMA just had to show up at this moment. Right after the actual problem had long since disappeared and just in time to clean up the people who hadn't done anything wrong. Apart from blow up half the street that is. That one was on Frankie.

Turning to speak to Yoko, she shrieks in surprise at the awful sound, clutching at her chest while she gets herself back under control. [b]"That…"[/b] she says, extending a finger towards the dragon like creature, [b]"…is unnecessary."[/b]

Regaining enough of her senses to realise no one had yet responded to the agents, she sticks her head over the edge of the roof. With a wave, she calls out, [b]"Yup, on my way down agent."[/b]

It takes a couple of minutes for her to reach the ground floor, the elevators had stopped working weeks ago, so she has to take the stairs. Somehow she manages to avoid the mess that was Nakala's room, probably fortunate, as the realisation of the destruction she has caused would probably slow her down at least a little bit on her way to the ground.

She reaches the ground floor uneventfully, cracking the door of the building and checking the exterior before emerging. Her brief time in the darkness of the unlit building leaves her squinting against the sun. Her headache flares up again.

The Boyz are long gone, leaving only a few charred corpses as evidence of their attempted attack. She eyes those corpses uncomfortably. She was OK with killing people who were trying to kill her, but she hadn't intended to do this much damage. She rotates slowly, observing all of the damage she has inflicted upon the surrounding area. It looks like someone has fired an RPG, here and there flames still flicker, while a huge scorch mark spreads out from the centre of the road.

Eventually she turns around to take in the monstrous form of the FAMA agent that that has called her down to the ground. She blinks, slightly surprised. Had she taken something other than Cocaine? He was huge, scaly, and certainly not a normal human. 

By comparison, Frankie is skinny and unintimidating. She's located a hoodie at some point, throwing it on to conceal the needle marks on her arms rather than because it's cold. Her skin has a relatively healthy colour, though it's obvious that the only thing keeping her from pallor is California's uncompromising sun. Her hair is greasy, thanks primarily to the lack of functioning showers in their building. She's also wondering why FAMA have bothered showing up here. Screwing up her face, she gestures vaguely in Olin's direction. There's something about him that's scratching at the back of her brain, like she recognises him or something.

[b]"Could you step two feet to your right?"[/b] That sun was really bright…