Tyrell looked at the armored person, mildly surprised that she sounded like a woman. He received another, even more mild surprise when the looter denied her words. He kept his face passive, more than happy to let the guy walk away. That did leave one man beaten to a pulp on the ground, though, and Tyrell didn't want to be standing nearby when the guard showed. He looked up and down the street, checking for anyone with a weapon that might give him grief. No guards, no wannabe heroes, not even a butcher--a happy, peaceful street, by Tyrell's reckoning.

"You ain't with him, then. You two partners?" he inquired, turning his gaze to the other suit of armor. Tyrell squinted in an attempt to see inside. He couldn't make out any features in the darkness, so he finally gave up. Whatever they were, it seemed these two weren't particularly keen on their identities being known. Tyrell could respect that; he didn't like people knowing who he was either, but he had always favored the low-key approach. Full-body suits of armor were attention magnets, this one woman's especially so.