[Q barks ferociously, voice modulated three times louder and deeper.]

Don't test us, neither of us are in the mood. He's heavier than he looks.

[The few times she's glad she's never made upgrades in that aspect. A heavier frame was slower, but it was more than welcome for her, who had not an incredible amount of physical strength.]

What I was doing was minding my own bloody business before I got jumped.

[She won't admit to the nagging sensation, the need to resort to complete violence and cold, hard ways.

Isha sighs, holding up both of her hands. The knife flips and slides back into its slot, invisible once more.] I'm willing to play nice if you stop threatening me and my dog. I can't fight you but I certainly can find a way to make your life miserable. Especially with everything you've got going on.

[And there's no posturing there, it's just a fact. She's got long years to back up the claim, none of which she'll ever admit in specifics.

There is, though, a certain lack of surprise. She's seen worse in terms of robotics and prosthetics. He's sleek, built for necessity and a certain level of refinement, no doubt in what she can see. As far as she can tell, there's only arms and something with the face and the eyes.]

What happened? Is that your own doing?