Jo can't help it. The snort or the smirk that follows it, shaking her head. "Or, sure. There's that option."

She doesn't even sound like she's annoyed or scolding. She's far more of the class and kind who like to get in and out without being seen, heard, or leaving the hint to be questioned later. But that's what hunters do. They don't mind fucking with shit, or talking you out of your money, across a table or through a card, or taking things that aren't rightfully theirs. But usually without any clues that might lead back.

The oops just makes her shake her head more. Amused, even by way of that being creepy, in and of itself.

"It's doesn't look like they've been here for a long time." Not with how much dust was kicked up just by him kicking in that door. The arc it made on the dust on the floor, and -- "Just look at this stuff." It looks old. Like old-old. Older than anything she'd had be far. Even the Apocalypse had been rundown after current. The furniture and everything. It was so much older than anything she could remember seeing outside of bits of old movies.