Mars

Mars pushed her shades back up the bridge of her nose, black circles over blue eyes. Her angry red hair was tamed in a long braid that fell over her shoulder. Well, not entirely tamed. Stray curls poked out from their places, wisps of the stuff in the young woman's face. It had been a long night.

From her position in an alley, Mars lit up a jay and breathed in deep. The new leader of C.R.E.S.S. had sent her on round after round of scouting, looking for any hint or hide of whomever killed Kiba.
"Might as well have been the Ghost." she muttered to herself as she took another inhale, "Could'da been him." she spat, recalling how much she didn't like the replacement for her old boss, "And if C.R.O.S.S. did it, they got to have some new high-spangled gear to have pulled it off." all in all, she was pissed. Mars liked Kiba. It may have only been because he was the one who was there when C.R.E.S.S. found her, but that was enough. He had been a better figure than her father was, that was for sure.

With her stress lessened and her appetite piqued, Mars tossed the butt of the jay on the ground and put it out under the heel of her doc martin. From the side pocket of her jacket which lay folded over an empty trashcan, she pulled a small vial. The strong scent of cloves filled her nose when she opened it. Mars tipped the bottle and dabbed the oil on her wrists and under her jaw. She wiped the excess off in her hair and on her jeans. With the most of her illegal smoke covered, Mars returned the vial to it's place and pulled her jacket on. She was starving now.

It wasn't too long of a walk to the coffee shop she had been eyeballing. Long enough that the overwhelming scent of clove had some time to die down, but short enough that it was still enough there. The bell above the door chimed gleefully when she entered. She found a small table in the corner by a window and sat down, waiting for a waitress and a menu. She took off her glasses and placed them down on the table. A few tables ahead of her sat a young man, already with coffee and a danish before him.
"Danish sounds good.." Mars mumbled to herself. When the waitress came with a menu the young woman took a quick glance at it, "Can I have a mocha, extra whipped cream, and whatever danish that gentleman is having?"
"Strawberry?" the waitress clarified.
"Oh that sounds fantastic, yes please. Actually, can I grab two of those? Thanks." she handed back the menu and relaxed back into her seat. There were going to be quite a few more long nights ahead of her. Who knew when the next time she was going to get a break like this.