Subtly was never one of my specializations, though there were times when I reveled in the affinity to play metaphorical cards quietly. Perhaps a better metaphor would be the game of chess. I was more than capable of utilizing pawns in an expert fashion, waging warfare on an opponent without giving them a chance to see that they had made futile mistakes and their king and queen were at risk. Check, mate. On the other hand, I was an exhibitionist. The Hunter I had unfortunately made some kind of ... relationship, (read: we had decided not to kill each other on a regular basis) would testify that I was outwardly flamboyant and available at any given time to putting on a show of the utmost attention-grabbing nature. What he was learning to appreciate was the art I had for underhanded moves that no other opponent prepared for. This affinity lent itself to me on a fairly regular basis, enabling objects like the small explosive that the girl had eaten to be far more than they appeared; even if that object, on occasion, was merely me.

As I watched the young girl with narrowed, unamused eyes, it struck me that her callous and brash behavior would not take to outward distaste or irritation. She clearly believed that the ground she walked upon should be kissed, and if not, then it was blessed enough that she should stand on it and allow her behave on a plane where consequence didn't exist. Granted, that assumption was entirely hypocritical as I too walked on that plane, which allowed me the mercy to grant the girl open range in the shop under my supervision. It was with a cringe that I watched her lean over the place on the counter where she'd drooled, unfortunately causing the glass to disintegrate beneath her elbows which might have sent her face first into the case that held various forms of maces, if she hadn't moved to attempt to smear her drool around with her sleeve before I'd broken the glass. With a satisfied nod, I returned my attention to her words.

"The very Merlin in the flesh."

Um... Magician? Abra-Kadabra my ass. There was sarcasm drizzled all over my words, though it was with better humor than I had originally spoken to her with. I was content to watch as she began to tinker around, almost beginning to debate going back to the inventory I'd begun in Spencer's absence until â€" dear lord, no fucking way. The irritation I had been fighting rose to the surface very, very quickly as if in paying homage to that stupid zero to one hundred song that the radio wouldn't stop playing and humans wouldn't stop humming as they wandered in and out of the office building I generally worked in. The direction that the girl had bee-lined for was the workspace that was my prized sanctuary, and I would be damned if a garbage pail of a ... being were to stumble in there and drool all over it like a savage virus ransacking someone's intestinal tract. I watched with expressionless horror as she began lifting things towards her mouth when a wave of intolerance all but began to drown me and I lifted a finger, tapping my lips which coaxed the keys to being to liven on their own, slipping into her mouth and stretching out like a five star point in order to keep her mouth open where I could be sure nothing else went in.

When it was evident that her travels were going to stop at the door to the workspace I kept dimly lit, I shut the door with a slow blink of my eyes and a strong intent to bar her from the room. The irritation began to dissipate as she paused, evidently merely hungry. What did she think this was, a cafeteria? Clearly she could eat whatever she wanted, and as my thoughts began to teeter towards obscure territory in wondering what kind of nutritional value that knives might have, her voice permeated what had been serenity before her arrival.

"Yes, more guns and swords. This isan armory," I answered, my tone flat but devoid of emotion that might suggest I wanted her gone. "Besides a human garbage pail, what are you?" I wasn't going to give her my name until she had offered information of her own, though my name was splattered in various places around the shop as the weapons designer. With little effort she could have looked to any of the cards and seen it, so instead of offering her free tidbits about myself, I would allow the ... girl to attempt and figure it out.