Masahiro strode merrily in through the front doors of the Lost Cog's shopfront, accompanied by a merry jingle announcing his arrival. For a quasi-legal detective agency, the Cog did fairly well for itself as both a clock repair shop, and a base of operations for the city's finest unofficial law enforcement agency. The small front room was slightly cramped, with a counter taking up the greater share of the space, and on it a hundred different tools of the trade. Behind the counter, sat the gold-skinned Jerobi. He was an islander from beyond the Empire, and his expression was one of perpetually wry amusement. As if all the world was making a fool of itself, and he was the only one to realize it. He looked up from his work with a fob watch to give the easterner a nod in greeting, before his attention returned to the watch. Masahiro beamed at him, flashing pearly-whites as he traipsed on through the shop, and around the break in the counter to step through the door to the actual agency. The back of the shop was a bit more open, with a few rolling desks along the walls, and stools tucked beneath should the need for a desk arise. There was also a narrow, rickety staircase that lead to the shop's 'office', so to speak. Masahiro made no effort to hide the 'thump thump thump' of his heavy boots as he ascended. He burst unceremoniously into the office without bothering to knock. The upstairs office was a plainly furnished thing, with a single desk. Behind the desk was a comfortable looking rolling chair built for a man of size. In front, were three ladder-backed chairs for anybody that might need an audience with the elusive Mr. Bowler. Keeva Flynne shot Masahiro a scowl, tucking her short, red hair back behind her ear and crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a deep maroon dress, although it was blessedly absent of a bustle. From beneath the hem of her skirt, Masahiro could see one foot beginning to tap already. "Bad day, dragon lady?" He asked, grinning cheekily. That brought a jovial chortle from the one and only Mr. Bowler. The man was faintly reminiscent of a beachball, in his tailored suit and bowler hat. He was a clean-shaven man, with a merry smile and a twinkle in his eye. A monocle was held in place over his left eye betwixt cheek and brow, and a silver capped cane rested on the ground. He stood a bare five foot seven. "Hiro, be kind to the poor sergeant. She's been through hell trying to hire on Metzger." Masahiro brightened further still at the voice of the round man. "Jolly Man!" He said. With a glance to Flynne, he gave a half-apologetic grin. "Sorry, dragon lady." He winked. Her knuckles creaked in her gloves, and he moved on by quickly. "We're really taking her?" Mr. Bowler laughed, and shook his head. "She hasn't signed anything yet, my boy. We did find a new recruit in the Copper quarter, however. We're expecting her in the shopfront any minute. Why don't you go down to show her up?"