Z frowned as Lukas screamed and stumbled out of the car. She shrugged her bags onto her shoulder while glancing around. Brand was right; the place was sorta drab. She turned her attention to Lukas, signing with one hand, "[i]Are you ok?[/i]"

((Imma just throw ace in here))

A doorway opened along one of the walls, and a short man with bright ginger hair and heavily littered with freckles. The most prominent aspect of him was the green sweater and sleek metal legs that matched the aesthetic of the hideout. "It's not an eye sore, it's [i]practical[/i]," he snapped, walking over to the car/plane with his arms crossed. The bright lights overhead reflected off his round, owl-like glasses to make it hard to see his eyes. "Rick?" He questioned, looking at the car.