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She couldn't get herself heated at an old man over gazing at her. Stares came often when you looked like Lauren - like like one of those old gods they made statues of in South Mistral fucked a king-sized Hershey bar and then [s]totally planted evidence that got her[/s] shipped her off to Beacon.

[i][color=8882be]But you do not[/color] [color=ed1c24][b][i][u]E Y E   F U C K[/u][/i][/b] MY[/color] [color=8882be]Sangue.[/color][/i]

She disliked the old lecher on sight, and wasn't entirely sure how much good he'd be on watch, but his description of Ben matched up enough for Lauren to look at him with an appraising eye and nod slightly.

[color=8882be]"Come over here and keep an eye on this guy for me. Please don't touch my jacket,"[/color] she said with politeness so bitter in her mouth she almost added an ironic [color=8882be]'massah.'[/color] [color=8882be]"I'm gonna wait by the doors for Cap's orders. With my Semblance active, I'll hear him better from down the hall."[/color]

She stood up and slowly traded places with the guy, sitting on a cafeteria table closer to the doors he'd entered from - ears cocked and one eye on the man who had now just closed most of the distance to her precious little sister figure.

[color=8882be]"Do you know these guys?" [/color]she found herself asking Ivor curiously. [color=8882be]"Any idea how they ended up locked in a fridge?"[/color]