The guy's said the magic word. Rosa's face practically lights up at the sound of it, and it reverberates in her skull like its a fucking Broadway marquee: weapons.

She betrays none of this on her face, of course, and she looks as disinterested as ever. The only hint she might be a tad curious is that she wanders ever so slightly closer to where he is, barely tilting in his direction to get a better look at what he means when he says "weapons."

It's not exactly the gleaming samurai sword she was envisioning, like the ones she has (had?) in her apartment, but it's sharp enough that her eyes linger on it for a few extra seconds before she casually skirts the rest of the building, letting her gaze sweep the space. It's non-committal, but she's exploring all the same.

"What sorta training you do here?"