Assuming that the man would be weighed down by the heavy plates would be foolish. Kamui would be well used to their weight and have trained himself to compensate for the sluggishness. The device, however, Sevatheda wasn't certain on what it could be exactly. The mechanical voice wasn't what set her on edge; it wasn't the first time she had heard such a cold tone.
His presence, with his gaze on her, was utterly stifling. If she were any less composed, she wouldn't be able to meet his eye. However, Seva was well versed in meeting and dealing with creeps, so she hid her discomfort fairly well.
"Favorite would be a bit of a stretch. Though the hit squads are welcome to come after me." She was not foolish enough to think that she would be able to survive them, but she wondered how many she would be able to take down before succumbing. Her arrogance was more based o what she knew she was capable of, rather than thinking herself immortal. She would die one day, yes, and it wasn't going to be by the hands of someone who is egotistical.
She glances at his proffered hand before taking it, her grasp firm to discourage the usual masculine crushing. One man had broken the delicate ligaments in her hand and prompted her to find ways to discourage excessive displays of brute strength.
"I can't entirely say the same, all considering." Her leash was just exchanged from one hand to another. Wasn't overly motivating, though she figured that there wasn't much else that she would rather be doing. Freelance was dull, and fairly dangerous. No point in killing the cheating husband. There is no satisfaction in it.