[There's a woman standing up on the ledge of the fountain. In her mid-twenties, she wears a three piece suit, black pinstriped with a purple button-down underneath the jacket, and a fedora. There's a ring on each of her fingers, each one more garish and sparkling than the last, and there's also an earring in her right ear. She's tall, with short, boyish brown hair and greenish-blue eyes. Oh, and she appears to be glowing. Just a little bit. Like moonlight.

She takes in their surroundings for a moment, before producing two pistols. They're old fashioned, something out of the early 1900s. And they're clearly loaded as she cocks them. But she doesn't point them at any of the people. She points them up, snarling angrily as she shouts, with a distinctively British accent:]

Baron! Baron what the bloody hell is this?

[She turns in a circle, upper lip curling slightly.]

Baron, if you don't show your face in the next two seconds, I'm going to decorate this fountain with whatever vile substance you have that passes for blood. Do I make myself clear? Are you listening to me? You can't ignore me. I have a bloody title too! I am Doctor Mina Barrett! I am the hierophant! I am the huntress! I am the--

[And as if to undercut her little tirade, a white butterfly suddenly pops off of her shoulder, seemingly out of nowhere.]

Oh hell.

[With that, she takes aim and shoots the butterfly. It explodes in a cloud of sparkling dust. Mina lets out an irritated sigh. This is not going well.]

Let these people go. And we'll talk.