The diclonius wrinkled her nose a bit, raising an eyebrow at the white-haired stranger to her side as he snapped at the elf that manifested between them. "Friend of yours?" she asked dryly, lacing her fingers after resting her elbows on the counter.

Missile twitched as he took the entirety of the remnants of her drink, starting to protest and then deciding not to as the elf pitched backward, hitting the floor. "... Well, what, the little golden brick painted on the shot glass didn't give it away?" she asked sarcastically, shaking her head and righting the small glass on the bar. Great, just... great. She could manage to drink the strange shot herself if she took her time - made the headache less painful at least. 

"Holy shit, he says something other than negative remarks and what did Bruce call it, golden words? Eh." Missile shook her head and glanced at the hunter. "You know, I've been around here awhile; haven't seen anyone like you running afoot." She moved one of her hands back on Pullo's head, returning to gently rubbing his head through his hair to help soothe whatever was ailing him. "Who are you, exactly?"