Women really are strange creatures.

Her smirk flatlined to a look of contempt, and the fingers reaching for the pack of cigarettes gripped them too roughly. She pulled the consequentially broken one from the box and handed it to him.

At the mention of Miles Sharp , Lulu snorted insolently. “I don’t know. I’m not his keeper.” Again, she couldn’t help amusement which bubbled out of nowhere at his expense. “Looks like you are, now.”

“Moxie, mm?” Attention returned to a much-needed smoke, teeth biting down on a tan filter irately. With the spin of a silver wheel, a flame glowed the end of an awk-angled, but unbroken cigarette. She then snapped the lighter shut, as though he might need to find his own way to light his partly-snapped-off come-up.

Cutting green eyes and regarding him a moment longer, she then turned and walked into a nearby office, leaving him to follow, or not. “You have no idea how strange I am, mate.” She’d return either way, but she kept talking. “And don’t think I won’t be taking advantage of this shit. I’ll put you to work, either way.”

Perhaps unseen, but not unheard: “WHAT’S YOUR NAME, OR SHOULD I JUST CALL YOU MEATHEAD?”

Why had they wanted them to have guards? Having had a hit put out on her already once before, it might have been cause for outright alarm and panic, however Darkrai had ironically washed away many of her fears. Still, if not scary, it was at least a bit worrisome.

He dished it back, and although normally Lulu was a person who appreciated that, this situation was denting her ego, and she was showing teeth. What else was a bitch to do? “SURE. MUGEN. RIGHT. TELL YA WHAT.” She came back out of the office, still puffing her smoke and voice returning to a normal volume. “I’ll call you ‘Mugen’, if you promise not to call me ‘Angry Beauty’ ever again. My name is Lulu.”

Her return was without lab coat and with a few of her own pokeballs strapped to a beltloop. His weaponry didn’t go unnoticed, and her eyes lingered over it. She’d assisted in fitting plenty of assassins and mercenaries in Kanto, having ‘retired’ from a weapon smuggling ring herself, which had functioned almost exclusively between there and Galar.

“That’s not what I meant, Mugen. Are you sure you’re not the crazy one?” The scientist deadpanned and sniffed. “I’m—” Paused to watch him grin and wrinkle her nose. Psycho. “We’re going to go talk to an old scientist, and they might not be happy to see me. So…” she considered, “Suppose you may actually get the opportunity to get your hands dirty if that’s what you’re into, but at least try to keep it in your pants unless it’s necessary.” … Actually, “Or if they’re an asshole, then I guess have at it.” If she didn't have to do it, why not?

Eyes watched him play with his scar, never having been abashed about staring. After a moment: “Why does Walsh think I need a guard?” Really, though. What was going on? She couldn't turn him away if this was what the Boss wanted, but it would feel less insulting if she could be told a good reason for such an assignment.

She briefly thought of skyler dross . “My name’s not Lu.”

Hell if he knew. Well, that wasn’t what she’d wanted to her. She shifted on a hip, perplexed. Then, she decided to level with him. “Look. I’m an avatar. It just feels a bit insulting and unnecessary.” Perhaps that was arrogant. It felt like it, but she might’ve been one of the most evasive ones with her particular blessing of shadow travel. It made missions much safer.

The cigarette was brought to her lips again and she only then noticed the half-torn one rolled across the metal floor. Her eyes returned to him, still all ice. Someone would sweep it up later. Breathing out a hot-headed sigh, she gave in. “Whatever.”

His sell was good, though, really, and it’d come at a great time. As she desired to show her face more in public, without disguise, she certainly did need to reel in risky actions.

Her stare was critically processing, calculating for a moment.

“You ready?”