Once Roman had brought Neo to his 'humble' hideout, fed, watered and such like, Neo's Aura made quick work of the wound meaning that the girl was soon on her feet. Roman had been sketching her in days prior, revealing that he was a decent artist and not everything about him was as hardy as he seemed. Her new persona was stark against the paper, it was a good likeness. After a week or two, she had quickly lost track, he had come in with two companions he did not recognise plus a package.
She looked at him questioningly, also making it clear that she would not be talking in front of the strangers.
"Holding up that illusion must be tiring work." She nodded, though she was scowling at him for skipping her question. To some degree she was grateful of the bonus fatigue it brought, as it ensured she slept well each night. She wasn't sure she would be happy to be rid of it.
"This is Lovino; he's a hair stylist."
A short brunette man smiled. "Charmed." She didn't return his compliment.
"And this is Francis - a weapon forger. Boys, this is Neo."
She flashed her grin at them, in full knowledge of how disorienting it was, and watched them shift from unimpressed with the dainty woman to completely on edge. Then, she tilted her head, eyes focused on the package.
"Well, you have that outfit you illusion on a lot, so, I drew it. We're going to make 'Neo' happen for real."
She hugged him.
Half her hair was dyed pink with white streaks, the weapon Francis built a reinforced parasol that looked placid on the outside but was, truly, deadly. The cover acted as a shield against attacks while a long thin blade was concealed within, pulled free by its curved handle. It suited her more than the sword ever could.
"I saw you're very acrobatic and flexible, so I figured it would suit you better."
She pulled out the outfit from the package.
"Well, we'll not be getting that bloodstain out of your shirt, will we now? Try it on."
The coat was more comfortable than she could have guessed from looking at it, but the lopsided belt was clearly her favourite part. Rebellion.
Looking in the mirror, she did not see Neopolitan, daughter of nobles, but Neo. Associate and right hand woman of Roman Torchwick who could not be touched.
Once the other two men were gone, she hugged him again.
Her lips close to his ear, she whispered "Thank you."