The click-clack that was the unmistakable sound of italian heels on hard flooring echoed as one more joined them. Fashionably punctual was a business term "Lady Cube" had coined, that had yet to catch on. This didn't displease Maude Bristol as she wasn't keen on being clever. She simply believed it was best to adhere as closely as possible to schedule, particularly in matters such as these. In the field it was expected that punctuality was up in the air, but for a simple matter of arriving for a business meeting, there was no excuse. Another term she was quite fond of was "synchronicity", the idea that events and people coincided. The sensatives of her order shared that common secret between them, that by and large, everything fit together if you could step far enough back from the subject.<br/><br/>Her code name within the order had been Lady Cube, they met in the Chicago Cube. Maybe it was a coincidence, but when one looked as closely at things as she did, even frivilous thoughts deserved some analysis. Despite the fact everyone had read her dossier and likely knew who and what she was, anyone could tell precisely what her order was as well as her speciality. From the Qin produced sense suit she was wearing beneath her expensive olive Bellinger's business suit, to the "prescription" thick glasses she wore with the unusual green film coating the lenses. Both were devices utilized by the ISRA hyper-sensatives to dull their perceptions when involved in "pedestrian" activities.<br/><br/>Indeed, beneath the neckline of her body suit, not a jot of skin was exposed. She was the fastidious sort that bordered (or perhaps strayed into) obsessive compulsion, most everything about her clearly calculated. Even the length of her hair was taken into account, for the slight curve her short straight hair-cut took brushed against the nape of her collar rather then her exposed neck. That seemed to be the task she was BUILT for in fact, accountancy. There was the look of an executive number cruncher dwelling behind her glasses.<br/><br/>Maude rested her suitcase at the side of her chair, removing her heavy wool overcoat afterwards. Draping it carefully across the back of her seat with the care of a new mother, she at last took her seat, knees held close together by the restrictive business skirt. Despite her business like appearance, she seemed the only one inclined to be friendly, offering a cheerful greeting, "Good to meet you. Maude Bristol, ISRA."