The sky was overcast, the wind was blowing, and the sound of a motorcycle cut the air as John Connor pulled up to the Magdalene Order, searching for Rosette. And a place to park the bike that wouldn't involve everything being stolen off of it, or the bike itself stolen, because that would be bad. For the stealer. Very bad.
Hopping off, taking off the helmet, standing in front of the building. Could it get any more imposing?
Shrugging his shoulders, he stepped up to the door to knock.