Back home, finally, Tasìa pulled her trousers off. Just yesterday, she had worn that very pair for the first time. Now they were threadbare.

Tasìa examined a hole in them with her fingers spreading the seams out.

"Figures. Nobody told me half my butt was hanging out. Why bother, right? 'Not like that girl even has a tush worth staring at.'"

With a miffed grimace, she threw them into a garbage disposal. Fortunately, she had a few more pairs of trousers of somewhat similar make for her expeditionary purposes.

After Tasìa showered, she changed into a nondescript pair of women's cotton briefs. Functional over sexy.

This time, she changed into a sports bra that would hold everything in its proper place so her boobs didn't just pop out or sling around unhinged when she had to jump, flip, twist, and kill things.

She chose her most elegant and pretty one, too.

Her bosom was well covered with the black fabric extending over the entire length of her ribcage. In contrast, the criss-cross of fabric and transparent lace on her shoulder blades helped to enhance the muscle definition of her back.

Though the bra was designed for the truly sporty kind of woman, it was nice enough for casual outerwear, just in case she actually found the time that evening to drag herself over to the Daga Chicas later that night.

But then another thought entirely popped in her head. Tasìa smiled wickedly as she twisted in profile in front of a mirror. If Jún-Jún has his bandages removed today, perhaps he would find the sports bra and what lay beneath them to his liking as well.

For now, she pulled a black T-shirt over the bra.

Still thinking about the evening ahead, Tasìa giggled to herself. What am I getting myself into? She decided to throw a pair of French cut, lacey lingerie bottoms in her fanny pack.

Tasìa realized that she needed to calm her heated emotions down. Fortunately, the sock drawer sat just in front of her. There was nothing sexy about socks.

Given her cat burglar proclivities, she typically wore for those occasions two pairs of differently-purposed socks. The first were a pair of ankle compression ballet socks to avert the strain caused by her acrobatic flexibility. The second set was a long pair of thick wool socks she needed for preventing her boots from rubbing up against her feet.

Tasìa slipped them on just before she confronted the contents of the long oak cabinet she kept along a wall in her guest bedroom.

It contained the majority of her footwear; perhaps, her most prized possession. That struggle was a contest between her boots and her weapons for which of her possessions claimed her heart the most.

An old emigre cook once told Tasìa back when she was still a little girl in the barrio of Rossara the story of a beautiful queen named Imelda who possessed three thousand shoes.

The Queen as she was often sighted in society wearing the most elegant footwear in the entire world was the envy of all the ladies of her land. Her great variety of shoes and boots certainly solidified her position as the alpha-queen in all matters of status.

A status that she had to struggle to obtain.

Imelda was born a commoner, but she was born with a gift, a beautiful voice. Being a great chanteuse, the King was enchanted by her voice as it was of the most bird-like delicacy.

He made her his Queen.

For seventeen wonderful years, she sang for him in the court of his Crimson Palace.

But then, her husband was dethroned. On ransacking the palace, trolls discovered her collection of shoes. The trolls ridiculed her shoes throughout the entire world. Though being mere trolls, through their evil magics, they had much sway with public opinion.

The beautiful Queen with her beautiful voice and beautiful shoes was forced to endure a life of shame.

Little Tasìa, when she heard this tale of Queen Imelda, felt with all certainty in the rational scheme of things that for a Queen each separate task called for its own pair of shoes.

Otherwise, you would just have anarchy!

Little Tasìa shook her head as she thought of this travesty that was the downfall of Queen Imelda.

What do trolls know of the needs of Queens?

You can't expect a Queen to wear the same shoes on an afternoon stroll to purchase ice cream as she would wear when she desired to visit the yogurt shop.

To say nothing of a gelato kiosk. If the owner was a true Italian would it not be insulting to show up in something that wasn't a Bruno Magli or a Fermani shoe?

These were the difficult matters a Queen had to consider whereas the rest of us can go about our lives in pigshit ignorance.

Now Tasìa shook her head thinking of her young self. Even still, as she reflected on the sentiments of her childhood self, Tasìa realized how they were still rooted deeply in her own mindset. It was reinforced, as well, in her own culture as Queen Imelda's enchanted isles were in many ways similar to her own land in custom.

She thought of someone unaffected by all of this.

Felicité would wear the same pair of sneakers no matter where she went. The Argentinian did not share the same status ideals common to the women of the Quadra thus she came across as an aloof outsider.

Instead of common social status, her own materialism was based upon the electronics that allowed her to spread her web and catch the information that sat at the heart of her own desire and her own purpose. That too was ultimately about the accumulation of status.

Now as for Tasìa, though quite materialistic herself, she was very finicky. Laid out before her were ninety-seven pairs of shoes and boots. Most of the footwear she possessed had to be customized to meet her own highly refined standards.

She would need a good hiking boot for what she had in mind for her meeting. Tasìa eyed a pair of Veronicas. She had made three adjustments to the pair. The lace-ups had to go. Only on tennis shoes did she find laces acceptable in both matters of aesthetics and function.

Tasìa replaced them with a set of eight over and under fastener hooks with an overhead strap to secure them in place.

Tasìa also hated the clunkiness of standard outsole design. Unfortunately, the Veronicas were no exception to this common manufacturer oversight. Tasìa had whittled the outer welts of the rubber soles and filled them in with a rubberized sealant used in the roofing trade. She did so in order to create a smooth bevel that aligned along the insole.

Along the outer heel, she embroidered a pair of Mayan k'uk symbols.

After her improvements, the combat boots were now elegantly redesigned into something worthy of even Queen Imelda to tread the streets of her native city when she was forced to abandon her grand Crimson Palace.

Tasìa slipped on the Veronicas. She felt giddy now as she headed to the basement. It was time to choose her weapons.