Roxie had suited up in her own black armour. Though the mace still hung from its place over her belt, Joe would also notice the addition of a lasso - faintly glowing red - wrapped a little provocatively over her hips. Not on purpose, for once. It'd just be easier to unleash when she needed it during whatever thugs they ran across later that night.

She had been about to say something when there was a knock on the door. Roxie frowned. Her address was for the most part unlisted, and it was generally hard as hell to get into the building without the doorman letting you in.

She tossed an ancient, lethal-looking knife to Joe (it was, thankfully, wrapped in a Hydraskin sheath) and moved past the living room to get the door.