The morning had been a blur. Mostly because last night never ended. The city didn't sleep so much as wake up over and over again in a confused blend of time and sensation, never truly knowing when consciousness stopped and new awareness began. Last night was distinct, tangible, definite, and firmly recorded in her memory; There had been a party, a few of her contacts had invited her to it. She knew they were trying to score. She hadn't wanted to go. She walked the streets instead. The solitude was comforting. It was the solitude of someone walking alone in a place filled to the brim with overflowing life and people, edged with danger and the promise of promiscuity and whispered taboo. Compared to Gearbox and the Broken Lands, Sakanoshita was a veritable oasis of hedonism and feel-good attitude. Compared to life in the high Spires, it was a den of base pleasures, hidden fetish, and quiet money.

It was also the district most plagued by Yokai. Part of her trolled the streets praying she'd finally come face to face with one; come face to face with the fools instigating them; finally come face to face with Shingen again. Part of her prayed she'd finally be allowed to die. Part of her prayed she never encountered any of it. Part of her, still, was angry that she felt the need to pray to anything or anyone and wanted to see fire consume this entire district- and the rest of Neo Tokyo with it. It was gripped in this whirling internal philosophy that some foolish, brave, woman approached Butterfly. It had been subtle, but of course Butterfly noticed it; the turning head, the way her eyes followed Butterfly down the street, the way she turned and followed her in that hopeful light jog. Butterfly had shut her eyes and let herself wonder where this was going. Let herself stop in front of that ramen stall. Let herself run through Shingen's lessons;

She had walked quick. She had bumbled into someone in her haste. She was wearing tight clothes- not likely to be concealing any weapons, but there was a pistol open carried on her thigh. A thigh that was a smooth metal, elegant and modern, and fixated itself into Butterfly's mind. This woman was no threat, but for some reason she had not only seen Butterfly but also followed her. Right as the woman stepped behind her and opened her mouth to speak, Butterfly cut her off;

"Hungry? I'm starved. Hadn't realized how long it's been since I ate. My treat."

"--Yeah, sure, let's eat." She had responded, and Butterfly sat with her. For some reason, in all the blur of light and movement, this moment was like a rock blocking the flow of the river of time. Sitting with this woman, eating this food, learning her name was 'Kelly', learning that Kelly was a hostess; discerning that she meant 'thief' but was too smart to blab about it. Butterfly said she was a driver; Kelly discerned that meant so much more than what Butterfly had said, but didn't pry into it. They ate. They talked. Then, the blur continued. Kelly stayed at Butterfly's side. They walked. They talked. Butterfly's new awareness eclipsed last night's consciousness in the morning.

As she picked herself up out of Kelly's bed, her mind provided her with the information that she had found out just where the metal on Kelly's left leg ended and the flesh of her body began. As she slept, the NanoHive within her had purged the flow of chemicals she and Kelly had imbibed the night before. As Butterfly finally pulled her dark red leather jacket back on over her cropped, loose-fitting, top she sat back down on the edge of the bed and let her eyes wander over Kelly. She wondered what it was about the dyed-blonde hair, the cool metal leg, the calloused hands and the thin-bordering-on-starved woman that had wormed its way into her mind. She wondered what it was about the woman that had made her crave sensation and closeness. She wasn't a stranger to these things, far from it, but the companionship of this woman had hit a certain craving within Butterfly that she couldn't place. Not being able to place her feelings was a danger. Shingen had always told her...

[i]Master yourself, Kemushi, before someone else masters you.[/i]

Her eyes flashed briefly, cycling to a deep neon green color. She licked her lips, then rose up silently from the bed. She left Kelly there, without another word and without any contact information. Just the stain of lipstick on her clothes to remember Butterfly by. She left, and the blur returned as she left behind that briefly visited island of stability. Morning turned to mid-day. Mid-day turned to evening. The cycle continued, but another rock of stability appeared in the blur...

[hr]
[@OwO]

Butterfly stopped, her ankle-length skirt flowing around her metallic feet. She tilted her head upwards, her senses registering the sounds of [i]some bullshit[/i] going down within the bar- but it hardly required her attention. The One-Eyed-Wolf was more than capable of dealing with any nonsense that came into her bar. Butterfly had learned that lesson well. She tilted her head upwards, her eyes zooming in unconsciously as they picked Cash's form out, dangling from the side of the building. A slow smile spread on her rough features. She clicked her tongue, her eyes returning to their normal settings, as she took a half step back, then performed a series of deft leaps. Her Leg Skimmers fired, blasting her upwards, then over, then off that wall, then into the air-

And suddenly Butterfly planted her metal feet heavily against the wall, hanging off the relay lightly by a hand. Her katana swung on the back of her hips but remained secure. She felt the familiar weight of the pistol holster on her thigh within the skirt, felt the shifting of her jacket, laden with knives and needles, felt the wind in her hair- tied in a loose but functional ponytail- as she soared.

Felt the rope in her hand.

"What am I worth to you right now?" She asked, smirking, as she tugged the rope several times to 'dangle' Cash in the air softly.