When Walter arrived, the blonde woman was standing at attention. Blue eyes quickly evaluated him, noticing the musculature hidden beneath his clothing. The fact that he was taller than her meant little; almost everyone was. She was often still offered children’s meals at local restaurants. Her outfit was a well-cut women’s suit with a dipped waist and lacy throat flourish. The shoes were equal parts practical and fashionable. No makeup was apparent, though she’d applied a bit of gloss and a small amount of foundation. Her typically wavy hair was piled up in an austere bun.

The only apparent show of vanity came in the shine of silver earrings and a mysteriously heavy chain. The end of the latter vanished beneath her undershirt, the pendants at its end resting near her heart.

With her injuries now mere memories, Lydia finally confronted her restlessness head-on. Though, perhaps, not, in the same way, she confronted wild Pokemon or the once supplexed Tyrunt. Without the structure of the military to guide her, the woman had felt like a rudderless boat adrift at sea. The structure had been replaced with a Tarantoula’s web of paths with no guideposts other than her own heart. But there was reluctance in jumping from military service into more public service.

Keeping a yard or so behind the served, Lydia walked with her fingers laced behind her back. Icy eyes jumped from reptilian shape to reptilian shape as they navigated the garden. Each dragon was gifted a deferential nod as she passed. Though she once imagined herself as a knightly dragon slaver, the blonde woman held great respect for these creatures. Though, the foolhardy Dragonite was met with a raised brow and flattened lips. "Hm." That type of showboating was quite undignified.

When the old man spoke, Ldia turned towards him. Her chin lifted slightly to indicate her attentiveness. After a moment of (faux) thought, she spoke. “I thank you for the words of caution.” She paused a moment. “He sounds like an interesting young man, if a bit foolhardy. I will admit the...beef with Lord Palkia is particularly interesting.” Many of her families subscribed to their own (distasteful) brand of vigilantism. “But, I believe tempering that behavior is part of the job. And one I am familiar with.” Both of her families had a unique brand of foolhardiness.

“If he wanted something to merely take bullets—” Here the woman paused. She resisted an urge to touch a disguised scar on her cheek. A stark reminder of how short life was, an endless game of chance. “--he would be better off with a bulletproof vest.”

At her mention of tempering Amor's behavior, Walter let out a little laugh, not mocking, or disparaging her in the least. But Amor was a difficult man to temper, despite all their years together he still only listened to Walter about seventy percent of the time, unless it was a truly stupid idea, and he realized it quick enough.

"We will see how well that works, and it's not necessarily bullets he needs protection from." Walter explained as he opened the grand doors into the lavish home. Twin spiral staircases lead to the second floor, from the main foyer. "It's mostly just himself....But once you are on the job you will see. The days are mostly peaceful. We did have one assassin attack the estate once while I was out. Master Amor dispatched the man, but ever since then I have looked for others to strengthen our security." Walter explained as they took a leisurely pace down the west wing of the house. "Every maid, butler, and chef here has some form of background similar to yours. All handpicked by me." He explained to her.

"However I cannot always be by his side, and that is where you come in. You will blend in to crowds far easier than I at events. You can keep, an eye on him at places where I would stick out to much. You can keep him safe. And that is my top priority." Walter said to her simply with an easy smile on his lips as they reached the door that lead to the room Amor was waiting in.

"However it is not up to me, if you get hired. It took all my persuasion to get him to even agree to this much. So I wish you luck Ms. Magnusson." He stated to her, and opened the door to reveal a man with a pale complexion, hawk, or reptilian like eyes, and long, silvery, almost angelic hair.

He was sitting down in a fine black suit with not a single thread out of place, he was immaculate as he normally was.

"Ah Miss Magnusson, welcome to my abode, please have a seat. Walter could you bring us some refreshments please. Lemonade for me, Adontis, and Stryker." He spoke to his elderly butler as his Pikachu, and Zeraora gave soft "squees" of approval. "And whatever the lady wants of course." He smiled his normal charming smile as he regarded her.

After she told Walter what she wanted, and sat down, he would regard her with his teal, slitted eyes.

"Well since you've come this far, my first question is a rather simple one. Why haven't you joined the rangers yet?" It was perhaps to blunt for a first question, but he needed an answer to that before they continued. If she was hiding something he would find out eventually, better to know now, so he could work around it in the future should something happen.

Lydia Magnusson