@Flucks: She walks up to him, standing within inches of him, her face completely devoid of emotion. "Threaten me with an ultimatum again and I won't be the one who's dead. Tell me what this endeavor is."
She moves with the innate grace of a gymnast as she follows him outside, knowing that if this panned into a trap, she'd drop him without a moment's thought. However, it was the blow pop that sent all of her flags up. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously she makes a show of popping it into her mouth before scowling at him. "Make that eight figures, just for being a jerk."
@Flucks: Tapping her nails against the wooden tabletop of the booth, a predatory smile crosses her face as her jade green eyes glow with amusement. "You want to buy my services? It's going to take a good bit more than that. Add another zero to the end and give me a damn good summation of exactly what it is that you want done."
@Flucks: Her eyes narrow suspicously as she leans back against the booth, her chestnut locks cascading around her shoulders with fluidity as she does so. "I suppose." Her voice dripping with unwelcome sarcasm as she speaks.
@Flucks: "I'm sure you don't need to be regaled with the tale of my woes. And I'm sure I don't want to tell you." Her eyes narrow as she watches him warily, unable to help the feeling of being prey.
@Flucks: She jerks her arm away out of pure reaction. Between the trauma she'd suffered and the nature of her powers, she disliked being touched. However she didn't move farther away. Tilting her head to the side, she gazes at him. "You have terrible taste."
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