Spiffy. [And that's it, she's lazily accepted that is how it's going to be.

Shoving her hands in her pockets so she won't keep worrying at her arm and leaving pink and red scratch marks up and down her tattoo like a particularly ugly plaid, she instead fiddles with pocket lint. A glance at the table shoves a question out of her mouth, but she has the decorum of a soldier to preface it first.] So, personal question, can I ask it? Bearing in mind that you reserve the right to not answer, I'm down with that.