"Not if the jewelry's good enough," Lydia replies, with all the good cheer of someone that's heard that particular spiel regularly. She grins, leaning forward to run her finger into the dark blue groove of the L, pulling back with her skin chalky and stained.

She hesitates for a moment before her shoulder ticks up in a shrug and she pops her finger into her mouth (blue and chalky) and continues forward toward where the elf has itself pinned against the wall.

"Think we've got to rob this guy?"