[Before she can approach, explain, convince, suddenly…. She knows that face. She knows it from aggressive research on the internet in a world enamored with every single little detail of the life of a musician. Jin…. a manager.]

[And Connie remembers exactly what they’ve been told about managers.]

[She feels the blood rush to her face, heat up her hands, and it takes a little effort to not just leap forward right then and there. Instead, she starts to push a growling Lion to the wall and in the direction of the door. Once her hands leave rosy fur, she reaches back for a familiar sheathe to adjust.]

I’m not going to let you tell him what to do! I know everything, you dictating, heartless farce of sentient thought! I know what you really are, and I’m not afraid of you! If you don’t let go of Steven, I’ll…

[Rose’s sword fairly sings as the metal slides against its sheathe.]

I’ll put you back in the cheap bargain scrap heap you were repurposed from!