[ What happens next is mostly an accident. Mostly. The pen in her hand stills immediately and just long enough to give him a rap on the head with it. It won't be enough to injure him - if anything it's just meant to be a reminder that they were in public and he was very much running his mouth. Some of her flat expression frays a little bit as she hisses at him just as a practitioner casts a glance back towards them. ]

They aren't clowns!

[ The pen is placed back on the table a little more firmly than before. ]

They're not clan crests. They're a sign that everyone in Abraxas falls under. There should have been one when you showed up.