Someone being so literal was less fun, but it didn't change the depth of Glamour whether the soldier lied or not.

"Mission functionality." He stands directly in front of the chair, hands slack by his sides as he gives the Asset an extremely sardonic look. "You're pure raring to go hide in a corner somewhere over a damn fucking chair. Whatever this thing is, don't be lying to me about it when this place is making our damn worst fears strut around."

He reaches his hands behind him, and rests them delicately on the arms of the chair, forearms resting in the shackles as he reclines lazily into it: the casual grace he has while doing so is both regal, and somehow animalistic. Very apex predator. "At least yours is stationary."