To most people, the girl approaching the small house in the lower districts would only share a passing similarity to Imogen Moreno. But most had never seen her hair down, and wearing clothes that were... simple. Imogen didn't feel the same pull to fanciful clothes if her hair was so drab.

She skipped up to the door, humming lightly to herself and knocked in rhythm to the music in her head. Which nobody else heard because Dark Types can't be read that way. Then she waited for the door to open, swaying a little to the tune in her mind, enjoying the peaceful day out.