Thal's balls, he thought she was a lunatic. She could see it in the way he blinked at her. And also the pauses. Not that she wasn't also acting weird, with her pauses and the tongue-biting.

As Aza turned to look at the breastplate, Jingles pulled her flask from her belt, uncorked it, and chugged a mouthful of ale. She quickly shoved it back onto her belt-strap as he addressed her again.

"It's a reference piece. Structure over design. Soldiers and mercenaries, they usually have their armor designed around their faction's aesthetic, and that can be worked in with the commission," she explained. "But that means nothing if you can't trust that it'll keep you safe. That's why I keep it plain."

...He probably saw her take that swig, thinking about it. At this point, she didn't really care. The tension of this whole convention was clearly driving her to drink.

"You can try it on, see what I mean," she added, gesturing to it.