Crowded and chaotic street, neon signs flashing in every direction, all sorts of individuals from the darker side of society. Matilda is no stranger to the underbelly of this city. She's lived in this world and she's aware that these areas are always crawling with troubles. But she's got somewhere to be. She's got no time for the punks, no time for the junkies, no time for the joytoys advertising their services. The only thing on her mind: get to the point; find the contact.

This place is seedy, disgusting... but it serves its purpose. Matilda stares dead ahead, walking past the rows of booths with people offering dubious services, like a tank going through a field of flowers. She ignores the vendors and ignores the loud, obnoxious punks. She doesn't care who's in her way; she doesn't pay attention to the flashing signs; she certainly doesn't notice the sounds of the city. All of her focus is on the objective: reach the meeting point as quickly as possible. If anyone steps in front of her, they're getting trampled. Not literally, of course... probably