[hr][hr][h3][b][i][color=ec008c][center]Margarete O'Bryon[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3]
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[b][color=ec008c]Location:[/color][/b] O'Bryon's old world Heirlooms --> [b]TIME [/b]Agency
[b][color=ec008c]Hit Points: 13  Sanity Points: 46 Luck: 75[/color][/b]
[b][color=ec008c]Mental State: Sane[/color][/b]
[b][color=ec008c]Skill: Education Roll [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/24968]29[/url][/color][/b]
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	Alas, the morning had come. Margarete had wished she could spend a few more minutes- No... a few more hours in bed. But she had a shop to run, and bussiness to attend too. Standing up out of bed her feet hit the floor with a heavy thud as the disheveled woman stood up. On her night stand her grandfather's .45 waited, loaded for in case some poor bastard tried to get her while she slept. Or anything else that may try it. Not that she was any good with it. Outside of firing it in the woods a few times some years ago the only time she grabbed it nowadays was when she went to bad with an ill feeling, or to put it away. Sometimes she'd go out and take it with her if she was worried trouble might find her. But that was a rare occasion. The damn thing barely fit in her handbag anyways. Locked away in the drawer though, it sat still loaded just in case. Just in case. The thought that kept crossing her mind since she left France. Making her way to the window she pulled the blinds that faced the sunrise open. The bright morning beams felt just wonderful against her scarred and ruined face. It helped her feel at peace, the rise of a new day. 

	Morning routines were simple enough. Shower, find the nicest clothes she could find. Curse the clothes that DARE to not fit her correctly anymore! Neatly reorganized everything in her bathroom until everything was back in place. Organized by size, purpose, then replaced those things that would need more attention later. Sealing them inside a used up coffee tin to be deep cleaned later. The clothes she wore were her favorite beige pencil skirt, a nice blouse to go with it, and a nice suit jacket she would put on after breakfast. Breakfast was always a chore. She used to love to read the newspaper when she ate her breakfast, but now she had to forgo that until she was done and down to only her coffee to make time to prep and organizing. Eggs cracked and poured into circle shaped metal cutters, bacon strips cooked in neatly parallel lines, and some hash to act as a side made into another perfect circle like the eggs. But the eggs always turned out into different shapes, the yokes were never centered, the bacon strips always shrank to different lengths and angles. The whole thing was a nightmare for Margarete who only wanted a nice breakfast. She didn't care about these things nearly as much when she was in the woods. But home, or at work, when she was faced with a structured day to day life? Everything needed to be as perfect as could be. At least the hash stayed a circle. There was already a good start. The smell of fresh coffee only helped with that. The way the table was set one may guess she was preparing for a nice date, not that there was a Mr. O'Bryon in her life. Multiple forks set about in neat fashion, two spoons, a water cup on one side, and coffee on the other. With the table set, food made, Margarete was finally able to sit and enjoy her breakfast. Allowed to de-stress herself and get her morning rolling before she had any clients to deal with. 

	Though a single strand of hair that didn't seem to know it's place kept trying to mess up her meal, Sprinkles had saved the day before she took her anger out on a table she really didn't want to replace. The chubby orange cat jumped onto her lap and began purring up a storm as if his favorite human couldn't be beat by anyone. "[color=ec008c]Don't think you can butter me up so easily. I know why you're really here.[/color]" The cat seemed to look up at her with the biggest smiling, purring like a motorboat as he continued to rub up against her. "[color=ec008c]It's not going to work. I have learned the secrete to your ways. I shall persist![/color]" She said in a conquering tone. The chubby cat simply gave her a happy "[i]Meow[/i]". Margarete soon admitted defeat. "[color=ec008c]Sigh... fine... let me finish the has first.[/color]" Sprinkles perked up! He knew his mother too well. Margarete set the plate down on the floor with some eggs and most of a strip of bacon still left. Sprinkles was pleased his servant had fed him and immediately began ignoring his human once he had gotten what he wanted. "[color=ec008c]Ya wee bastard! Where's your end of the bargain![/color]" Sprinkles ignored her in favor of the bacon. 

	Grabbing the mail that had been dropped off, she skipped over the newspaper wasting a fair amount of time spoiling her cat, and demanding his affection. Some were bills, some were letters asking about items she sold months ago, some were offers for more collectables. Overall, the usual stuff. What did catch her though... The unstamped letter was pretty easy to tell who it came from. But she still had to spend some time decrypting it. "[color=ec008c][i]Important message... New England millionaire... Respa... respatility...[/i][/color]" She mumbled as she read the letter. Given another pot of coffee she could make out words easier. But she had never been the sharpest tool in the shed. "[color=ec008c]Responsibility! Great... uhm...[/color]" She held a reading level of a student who had never finished school. Though she loved to read, she was slow, and the early morning still ahead of her she was more off than usual. "[color=ec008c][i]...presence required ASAP...[/i][/color]" She paused, reading that over. So it was TIME. She was hoping she'd be less groggy by the time she got there. Last thing she needed to do was make a fool of herself, or have to beat down some poor bastard that decided to call her out for it.

	She put on her suit jacket, a felt fedora for the weather, and grabbed her handbag from her room. She paused, looking back at the side table. She always had her knuckles within her bag should she need it. But if TIME was reaching out to her, she had an idea of the kind of trouble she expected. Taking her keys, she took the old army revolver out of the drawer and slid it into her bag. Still loaded from the night before. Locking it back up she left to get to work. "[color=ec008c]Stay out of trouble sprinkles, mum will be back soon enough. Make sure to not sleep all day![/color]" She called out knowing the cat would do just that. But it made her feel better to at least say something. Sprinkles, was already asleep on top of a box by the radiator. She left a sign on her shop saying simple "Went out on important errands, shall return later." Attached to it, were a few of her business cards. 

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	Margarete chose to walk. The fresh air helped her keep a level head when confronted with problems and stressers. Plus, it was easy for her to make it past most crowds. She stood over most woman, and many men. She was intimidating by size alone. The scars on her face only seemed to help that fact as no one dared bump into the woman. She stepped through the doorway to be greeted by the lovely secretary. "[color=ec008c]Mornin' Miss Babson. Taking care of yourself?[/color]" She asked intrigued, but alas she was in a hurry. Inside she saw two other agents, and Harry Peacock. She made sure to give each a courteous acknowledgement of a nod, and eye contact. Though kept her hat on. She was still self conscious about the burns sometimes. And for whatever reason she felt the hat helped draw attention away from them.

	She continued her heavy steps, her lifted shoes nearly stomping with her weight on the floor as she walked into the office. Though she arrived a little late, she arrived soon enough to get the gist of what was going on. She had to ponder the question for a moment. Then it hit her! "[color=ec008c]Arthur Cornthwaite is a wealthy lad who went on a fair amount of expeditions, made money off them, and had an obsession with tribes from about tha' world. Saw him once at an event, but can't say I know much more on The man. I think he's local? At least to the Northeast.[/color]" She shrugged. But she guessed that is why they were there. To know about this man, and figure out where he had gone. Though, the smaller girl had a point. Why did the attorney think that they needed to be involved instead of the police? She was sure there was a reason, but off the top of her head, she couldn't think of one.