“Aren’t you supposed to obey me?” She retorted. “That’s why I bought you.” Not really true. She hadn’t exactly wanted a yes man, but she’d also wanted someone she had chosen - someone who wasn’t there to just babysit her. It was maybe a tall ask of anyone, to keep her safe when she was so determined to tear herself down. Also - she can swim - so he’d actively have to hold her down.

“You’ve got a broken leg.” Or close as damn it. Which means he had one too - although his bone isn’t broken it certainly feels it. “You can accept help now, or you can keep going until you drop and you have no choice.” There may well be a bite of impatience there. But each step makes him consider murdering the man just a little bit more. 

“Twenty dollars is still twenty dollars.” She says with a shrug. “I fell from an aerial hoop once, broke my arm in three places - doesn’t make me worth any less.” Although, from the way her father had screamed at her at the time, that had once seemed debatable. “Plus you’ve got to be easier to fix than a human.” She studies him briefly. She doesn’t exactly know much about maintaining androids. She’ll have to pay someone for that privilege. “You got some kind of... Damage analysis mode or something?”

She gestured for him to take the seat across from her, and pushed the tart across the table to him. “What might your name be?”

Minerva raised an eyebrow, glancing at Alastair while he spoke. “Oh, really? What exactly have I done to make you think I’m not myself?” she asked, crossing her arms. She was a bit distracted, but only because things at the Ministry were increasingly feeling off, hence the most recent visit to her parents and subsequent visit to Edinburgh. “How do I normally act?”

“Seriously? I got this carriage for me and my friends. You can’t tell me there’s not a single other one that you could ride in,” Aberforth said. He had intended to be somewhat polite when they started off. But if this kid was gonna be rude, so would Aberforth. “Just because you don’t have friends to sit with doesn’t mean that I should be stuck with you.”

Some common combinations include booty shorts coupled with: knee high fuzzy socks and a logo tee shirt, an oversized hooded sweater that actually obscure the shorts (these are often appropriated from her bodyguards or handlers - rest assured she has bought Al multiple hooded sweatshirts, simply to ‘borrow’ them) usually for universities or gyms or similar, a tank top or just the matching pyjama camisole.

A silk shirt - more silver than white - loose fitting with ruffles and tight cuffs - short shorts, black and possibly denim - not so short that her ass cheeks are hanging out but certainly not church wear. Fence net tights - also black - and knee high, high heeled boots. She’d likely accessorise with a plastic sword, large gold hooped earrings, a red bandana - and, a traditional glass of rum and coke, of course.