As the shabby little man turned away from her, Rhen had to suppress a shiver. Those few who couldn't be distracted by physical appearance were always the worst threat to changelings' independence. Certainly made it more difficult for her. She wasn't anywhere near the master manipulator her cousins were. Perhaps, when she got back, she'll get more in touch with her heritage. They were the people of the twilight, and standing out in the metaphorical daylight seemed to be less appealing by the moment. Surely someone here could be a beard for her. It wasn't necessary, of course, but she sort of wanted the reassurance.

Distrust had shaped her people, and she thought she'd rise above it. Perhaps- The crack of wood shattering caused her, and more than a few of the others, to turn around. The Bashirian reacted first, disappearing then reappearing in front of a... man. A very, very, noticeable [i]man[/i]. Rhen moved between the newcomer and the Bashirian, paling her hair and skin to contrast the threat. By the time she stood between them, she was shoulder-height to both of them and almost platinum blonde. "Wait a minute..." She put a hand on each of their chests. To stop them doing anything rash would have been her excuse, but she quite liked the muscles on both sides.

"Perhaps, gentlemen," she looked up at both of them, her best almost-innocent teen smile on her face, "we should start with diplomacy." She turned to face the newcomer completely, noticing the tattoos. She wondered where he got those, briefly distracted by the spectacle. "So, tall, strong, glowing, what on the new world were you doing in our provisions?" The thought that he'd been put there for her eye candy briefly flickered through her mind, but she shook it off and watched his eyes instead. "Stowing away for glory? No, you're too surprised. You are happy to be here, but you didn't expect it." She put her hand over his heart. "You're not a threat. Not now, am I right?"

[@Force and Fury][@ReusableSword]