( she scoffs at that ludicrous suggestion, rolling her eyes as she carelessly tosses the purple hat onto the floor before picking another. the one she chooses next is pink with a big yet obvious fake feather glued to its ribbon. this could be more of her rocket launcher's style, because like her, is also starving for attention. and wearing something like this, she feels, would be a head-turner. )

He's fun until he yammers on about how you should put up your laundry every day, be nice to others, or you shouldn't pickpocket people without their consent.

( jinx throws her arms up in exasperation over her last example, looking to house in the hope he would agree to the next point she's about to whine over. )

— The whole point of stealing is to do it without asking. But then he goes, "but Jinx, what about their feelings" and blahblahblah. And then this jerkward — ( she thumbs over her shoulder towards..... the hat rack? ) butts in all of my conversations like he just owns the place.

( there's an abrupt pause in her rant (maybe that's a blessing in disguise), and her face crinkles when she feels a sharp jab to her temple. she winces quietly, but takes big and deep breaths to compose herself. because she refuses to let "mylo"'s words spiral her into a tantrum, it's the last thing she needs when she's already on thin ice with the people who are in charge of this whole island. )

Anyway... ( she starts again, breathing out the word and puffing up her chest to appear unbothered. ) If you wanna hang around with a stuffy missile who is supposed to be a death machine, be my guest. But don't come whining to me when he schools you about table manners.