[center][h3][color=fff79a]Chloe Bridgette Cakebread-Yonaka[/color][/h3][/center]

	Chloe rolled her eyes a little at Taras and Lindeman, already posturing at each other. She winked at Lilliane and Kiara.[color=fff79a] "Boys, eh?"[/color] She said with a shrug. She was glad to see the Frenchwoman returned, and gladder to see that she had defused the situation with the native partisan that had stumbled upon their violent encounter. The frenchspeakers seemed to defuse the situation and Chloe happily trotted along. Ritz receded into her body and vanished for now. Kiara also seemed to believe Chloe, as well. Chloe knew what it felt like when The Reaper was all...murdery. So when then the Till de-escalated everything she was content to fully believe and trust him. Chloe was the most trusting person in the room, most likely. Probably one of the most trusting people in the world that was above the age of 13.

	Chloe smiled at the woman as she lead them into her safe house. Once again Chloe flopped lazily down onto a chair, reached into her breast pocket, pulled out a cigarette and match, and lit it up. She inhaled briefly. Blood tripped from her torso wound, down onto her jeans, and stained the chair she was sitting on. 

	Yonaka looked the woman up and down. [color=fff79a]"Stand User! Is that it? That's us! We're Stand Users. Watch this-"
[/color] The british woman extended her hand. The Stand Users in the room would see Ritz apparate, walk over and pick up two forks. Then, Ritz, with a smirk on her face, began to wobble the forks up and down. [color=fff79a]"WoooOOOoooOOoooOOo~"[/color] Cakebread waggled her reddened fingers up and down. Even for her, it was a bit silly, and it gave her pause, her affixed smile only widening as a bead of sweat dripped down her forehead. 

	After a moment she leaned back, wincing. She reached under her slashed crop trop and put her hand to her cut skin. Thankfully, it was on the side that wasn't covered in her tattoo of a cherry blossom tree. [color=fff79a]"Ssshhhite."[/color] She said with a little nervous chuckle.

	[color=fff79a]"S'a...s'a..."[/color] She nodded over at Till. [color=fff79a]"S'a wicked fuckin' Standa ya got there, mate. Oi, uh, Tupolev. You got any more a that...healing...juice?"[/color] She snapped her fingers a few times at the Russian, not quite sure how his stand worked. All she knew was that he stabbed her with it, it hurt, but then she was alive. [color=fff79a]"I fink I could use some'a that." [/color] She said dryly. [color=fff79a]"If uh...if it's not a problem. Please, heh."[/color] She rubbed the back of her neck and took a whiff of her cigaratte and letting it filter back out between her lips.

	Ritz looked on, the hulking, elegant figure holding two forks.

	 If one wanted too they could see Chloe's true emotions plainly on Rit'z doll-like figures. It lifted up the wooden visor of it's polished sallet-like helmet. She frowned at Taras, her big red lips pursed with worry and her inky black, drawn on eyebrows nitted together anxiously, her doughy green eyes squinting at him in pain.