Luciel had slowed his pace in following Lucille, subconsciously prepared for her to ignore him. On top of this, seeing the blink of the headlights from the car was certainly intimidating. Due to funds, he mostly walked or took the bus if it was too far. With that in mind, the neon glow of the luxury automobile which was likely foreign to the region. However, waiting after accepting his company was unexpected. He'd mostly taken solo jobs; 'cleanup' being more of his forte, though the name which the two essentially shared sparked a rare tone of intrigue. Seeing his reflection in the sleek vehicle was one of the many hints that it was about the point of their namesake where similarities ended.

[color=8882be]"Ah, jeh...I vahz szinking zeht-"[/color] he started in agreement, approaching the car with a palpable moment of silence before Lucille began on the talk about cars which Luciel had nothing to substantially contribute with. Meanwhile, he was growing accustom to the scent of what a 'silver spoon' might be, firmly but gently closing the car door behind himself in slight worry that anything he did could cause offence. The car wouldn't even fit in his flat any way it was tilted, and the spacious interior...oof. Luciel was certain he could slide and lean the seat back enough to actually lay down with all of the leg room, though only played with the controls enough to confirm the suspicion before resetting it to a respectable position. In the process, his power bent his coat to instinctually mimic the interior of the car as it shrunk against his frame in a manner to make himself less noticable.
Her casual confidence as she spelled out essentially everything there was to what would have been a conversation fit nicely with his passive normality with conversation. Though her appearance betrayed her, Luciel often found it very easy to be around *ehem* individuals of escalated age; they often had so much to talk about where he had very little. With all of the experience accumulated through years of existence, it was worth listening to whatever they had to offer...
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...This was not always the case, as the car ride mostly consisted of extended anecdotes which often fed into eachother with only occasional breaks for the young albino to throw in such inputs as: [color=8882be]"Yeh, iz how they say..."[/color], [color=8882be]"Ah, vell, I'm not much for zeh heat"[/color], [color=8882be]"I bet you haf had quite zee time to see zeh vehrld"[/color], or his personal favorite fallback, [i][color=8882be]"...Ehrm..."[/color][/i]

By the time they arrived at the temple, Luciel had mastered the seat controls as well as almost cooked himself with the heated seat option. While his intention to aid the woman out of a strange empathetically bias assumption within how he viewed her years, it was never intended to sit through such a history lesson. With all due respect, he was more inclined to listen to others than talk about himself, but he almost had enough information to write an extensive biography on the woman who didn't look a day over 25.
Stepping out of the car after they'd parked, Luciel stretched as his attire seemingly deflated, warping into speckled tints of its neutral state seen in his profile picture. In the motion, the contents of his coat peeled away from the shifting mass to display a bandolier of folded pieces of paper with a small pack on the end by his hip. From his back, his signature rapier was lifted away by his scarf before he caught it in his right hand, thumbing the guard to glint the blade for a moment though letting it settle as Lucille reminded him that they were just kids.

With this, he muttered a small [color=8882be]"Jeh..."[/color] as he slipped the sheathed blade into the accompanying loop opposite the pack. His attention then turned to the figure in the process of defacing the shrine. It was a strange tactic, Luciel considered, to mark up the place where they would be concerned was not receiving 'enough' donation. His first thought was that the raijuu was an interloper seeking to mark territory for some means which the albino wasn't particularly curious to what ends. Though he certainly had words he could exchange with the individual, his compatriot was quicker to the draw and more eloquent with the phrasing.
In truth, Luciel would have been more inclined to sneak up and terrorize the teen into yielding useful information, Lucille's approach was arguably more off-putting. If the two were anything less than what they were, the challenge would be a terrible one since the opposition was bound to quickly outnumber them. It was because of this that Luciel casually thumbed through the bandolier before drawing a packet of barley seeds. They typically rapidly grew in vines which could bind multiple attackers if caught off guard, and, due to their non-irritant qualities, would hopefully keep Lucille from being too cross with him if push came to shove.
However, pinched between his ring and pinky finger was a packet of nightshade. While meek in its natural setting, the inspired version proved to be a powerful buff to his sword. The idea was to carry magical influence with a melee weapon to pierce the natural immunity spirits had, and, though the sword could deal little damage on its own, it served as a potent method of delivering a fairly debilitating poison after his power had its way with the toxin's chemical makeup. So was the hunt, Luciel valuing personal safety over objective parameters. He was more inclined to bargain with antidotes than words. Good thing Lucille was there, Luciel [i]really[/i] needed payment from a successful job. Rent was soon to be due.

[color=8882be]"I hope zeh pep talk sticks..."[/color] Luciel darkly joked in a soft enough tone for only Lucille to hear, eyes already narrowing in cold calculations as he measured up the single entity. [color=8882be]"...I can catch it if it runs"[/color] he commented, never entirely concerning himself with the gender of spirits.