[ mild and steady is his stare. the streetlight outside shines the glare of the blade into his glasses, the reflection of the gun into the lens, but the curve of his smile is slight and undisturbed. for a stretch of time, he doesn't speak, doesn't react, a thinking pause in every sense of the phrase.

and then the weapon is tucked away, and reishi closes his eyes, turning to click his seatbelt in place as ordered, ease in every gesture. ]

I wonder.

How well does it suit you in combat.

[ no rush, even as he crosses his legs, his hands folding in his lap. his glance flicks up to the rearview mirror and he simply watches as the panic begins.

but the getaway proceeds rather tamely for the start of it; his gifts, he notes, don't even jostle at his feet. ]

You needn't ease my conscience, if you are truly concerned for it.

Although I admit, I'd initially thought you merely liked the car.