The music flowing through the building seemed to fall into some sort of hush- and for several seconds, it might've been possible to hear some hushed whispers coming from within.

Finally, the door was suddenly snapped wide open and a woman stood before the door- she was blond as anyone else in the city but her hair was thick and wild, beaded and braided, her eyes somehow myriads more intense than anyone else's Gojyo had encountered in the city previously. She was curvy; dressed in a white sarong with a second layer of orange and blue fabric, golden bangles on her wrists and in her ears.

She was, obviously, a gypsy of some sort. In a clipped, distinctly exoticly accented voice, she ashed, "What is it you want?" after giving the foreigner a slow look up and down, observing how much of a mess the man seemed to be.