A minute or three passed without much exchange, but her moving in place for a moment prompted Kyoya to pass a glance. She was still up against the tree, subtly shifting.

"Where d'ya hail from?" The girl asked, still staring out past the canopy, likely into the deepest reaches of space. Her eyes spoke curiosity to him, a swirling of autumn-amber hues politely begging the question.

The boy answered almost instinctively, but after hearing himself reply, it was safe to say he was far from pleased.

"Teleo."

A standstill soon found its way to the pair.

The girl's eyes were wide, blinking a few times and then squinting as though there was a struggle to identify something about her company. She finished looking him over, doing a great job in perplexing the Miscreant.

A pang of self-consciousness snuck its way in, too.

"I knew there was something about you I couldn't shake off..."

The girl reached into a leather pouch on her hip, retrieving an old, tattered sheet of paper. It had grown brittle and yellow with age, even the slightest pressure garnering a shout of crinkling and tearing, posing the question as to just what, and just how old this document was.

She unfolded the paper and turned it to face him, a one-hundred percent immediate recognition dropping his jaw to the ground. "...There's something you don't see every day."

Before him, she held one of his, assumedly many, "WANTED" posters from the days following the execution of Oberon's contingency.

An immediate defensiveness soon came about Kyoya.

It seemed that, as least to an extent, she could tell.

"Where'd you get that?" He spoke without interrogation in his tone, instead offering a mild curiosity so to stipple any potential tension. Afterward, he slowly found his feet, staring back at what she'd presented with very slightly visible concern.

Even if the Miscreant didn't remember it well, it was still exactly as he'd recalled: a dodgy sketch of himself from five years past, terribly made, the reputability of it's source likely even worse so. And yet, past the diminishing quality and even furtherly past the tests of time, she managed to recognize him?

From that?

Albeit a little hesitantly, presumably from his apparent discomfort, she followed up.

"What I'd assume were your old stomping grounds..." She trailed off momentarily. "...You had- well, actually, you've still got a two-million Chell bounty on your head over there. It's a wonder you're even still alive, if we're being real. Any Hunter would drool at as little as ten thousand, y'know -- two million might as well be a death sentence with extra steps."

"I wouldn't say you're wrong, then." A deep, heavy-hearted sigh escaped the boy. "The hell'd you even hang onto it for, anyway?"

"Right... It's complicated." His company took a brief pause upon herself, folding the notice back into a tidy square and tucking it away into her cardigan's pocket. "I'm betting they never even swapped the old ones out for new posters, 'cause I got this one a few months back."

Kyoya entertained the thought of Teleo's new Elite knowing he'd survived the encounter. In fairness, he figured, it wasn't likely. But that still didn't rule out the possibility.

"Noted." The Miscreant settled in, awaiting elaboration on his query.

The girl offered no more than a shrug, a brisk smile coaxing one from him as well.

"It never hurts to have some insurance around." She added, "But, now that I've seen you in the flesh, I don't fancy that you could summon a demon, anyway..."

Her glancing away brought about a peculiar static in the atmosphere. "...Just don't prove me wrong, and I think you and I are gonna get along without a hitch."

"Deal. You can bet on it, uh..." Kyoya had to cut himself off in clear confusion. "What do you go by?" He laughed, only just then having realized that they'd yet to properly meet.

"Damn, you're right! My bad!" His company recoiled from her own antics, laughing herself off soon afterward. She crossed her arms in a pridefully triumphant stance. "Lyric Seraphim -- don't forget it!"

Finally able to put a face to a name, any and all indecision flowed out of his system without incident, as the previously enigmatic scene about them quickly became one that offered more reassurance than anything.

"I go by Kyoya. Sweet to meet'cha!" The boy flashed a thumbs up of his own, clashing egos giving rise to laughter from either party.

"Right on, then, Kyoya. Our gal should be rolling up any minute..." Lyric stretched and rocked in place, shooting him a jokingly narrow-eyed glare. "Y'know, you aren't a half bad time-killer. Kudos."

"Guilty as charged; I have my uses." A smug grin and accompanying shrug preluded him offering a similar look, able to spark a snicker or two from the amber-eyed girl.

"We'll see about that. C'mon, I hate making her wait."