Tyrell's face showed his confusion. He raised his hand to point at the black armor standing right beside the woman. "Him. Er, her. Or, uh," Tyrell leaned forward to look closer. He flipped out his dagger and caught the sun on it, casting the reflection into the helmet. Not a flinch at the bright light; not a face, either. Tyrell was stunned for a few moments. Finally he pulled his mouth up and slid his dagger back inside his clothing.

"A'right, ya got me. You've got a puppet. Joke's on me. Were you going to do something about that guy?" Tyrell asked, gesturing to where the mugger had vanished to. "Or were you planning on helping this one?" His foot tapped the mugged guy's leg.