Mako might not be in the house but she's parked Gipsy, her motorcycle nearby. The rain doesn't bother her at all but it has its own sense memory. Different rain, different continent. Her umbrella pops open as she slides off her bike and it lowers against the rain. She knows that fear, the one that makes her own hair at the back of her neck rise. With all that racket, the house should have been lit up ages ago.

"Hey," Mako says gently, the umbrella rising to reveal the most non-threatening face probably on the planet. Her hair falls forward a little to reveal bright blue slices of colour in her hair. "Can you stand a ride on my motorcycle? My home isn't far. No one will mind, I promise."