A gaze cast down each side of the street told Oda that only one viable vehicle remained, if they were to make use of the shortcuts that littered Regalo Island's surface like scars across a veteran's face; she'd seen enough of both to dread the bumpy ride. There happened to be a finely crafted motorcycle sitting on the street corner, unattended, whose silver sheen seemed to call out with an enticing glamor. It was a fine machine, not dissimilar to Oda's own, but that was stored by the mansion itself.
There were certain liberties allowed to Adepts of the Sword more than any other rank within the sector, such as the one Oda was about to take advantage of. It would cost money out of her own pocket if she were to damage the vehicle, but she trusted enough in her own confidence to not end up in a fiery wreck with an Apprentice on the backseat. The thing that worried her the most was the potential damage this thief could do, depending on the weapon they carried, or if another traveled with them.
Regardless, the time for worries had passed, and Oda knelt beside the motorcycle with a Swiss army knife retrieved from one of her many deep pockets. Hot-wiring the vehicle didn't take long, and was luckily a skill Oda's father had taught her back in Sweden that proved to be more useful than she'd ever expected. It was certainly quicker than knocking on the owner's door, and could possibly save one twelfth of the Famiglia's bank, if they caught up in time.
With no helmets hanging from the handlebars, Oda would need to be especially careful in her driving, and push back the instincts that would cause her to speed recklessly across the tracks of dirt worn through by many years of enthusiastic teenagers; ones like Annabelle, in fact. The Adept climbed aboard the motorcycle and revved the engine a few times, making sure she hadn't broken anything lethal, like the brakes, and whistled over to Xoxaa with the knowledge that the young woman's mind oft wandered.