Not that she had any powers to speak of--or, not if you asked her, anyway. She was convinced that the things hanging at her sides were just as much people as the skeletal, bandaged form that loomed over the four officers from behind.
Or the thin woman standing beside the outstretched bins, her arms folded before her chest, her intense emerald eyes glaring into wide and frightened rubies. "Daria obey. Maeve watch swords. Make sure safe."
The Masked had turned her head to stare at what only her mind could see and began to whine a little, reluctant to turn over her precious katanas, but somewhere deep inside she knew The Friend was right, and so she would waddle over to the officers, head hanging sadly, hands going about the task of undoing the belts holding her katanas to her hips. They were undone by the time she reached the armed men, her scrawny arms holding them up to present them to the officers. "...Take care of The Friends..." she whimpered as the officers took her swords, then turned to drag her feet through one of the thick, metal frames standing before her.
It would only then, handing over the swords, that she would feel the slightest, strangest sensation through her fingertips, like a straining, choking restraint closing in on her, channeling through her fingertips and gone the moment the swords left her touch. The brief experience troubled her, and she would gaze worriedly upon her precious katanas, but after an annoyed motion of The Ghost's head, she would move on through the security check.
Unarmed, The Masked was little more than a flailing crazy person, hardly much of a threat to anyone any more than to herself, and so she would make it through the checks with no problems beyond her own anxiety with the whole process. The whole thing made her incredibly nervous, but she had a job to do! A message to deliver to The Master! If not for her strong and loyal sense of duty, The Masked would have been long gone by now.
But, as such was indeed the case, The Masked managed to will herself on, wobbling feebly up to the front desk, where she would declare with a mediocre salute obviously taxed by fear, worry, and an overall general anxiety, "The Masked has a message for The Master...! Ah..." She hesitated, rolling her eyes upwards as she thought hard. "Yi...Ya...Yay..."
"It's JAEGER, you pea-brain!"
"Jaeger~!" she declared, then reached inside and extracted a single sheet of yellow construction paper, turning it around to reveal to the officer a show of terrible hand-writing, even worse spelling, and a crude drawing, no doubt the work of a two-year-old except for the oddly accurate sense of grammar. Beaming like some sort of overly (and unreasonably) proud mother, she repeated, "...For The Master! The Master Jaeger!!!" And at last, with a bewildered turn of her head, "Where can The Masked find The Master?"
She quite clearly had very little idea the depth of what had happened to her beloved Master.
<!--In case it's not clear, Daria is schizophrenic, and Maeve and Kré ( "The Ghost" ) are not real. I'm going to ask you to trust me that the message has no trace of violence, threat, ill-will, etc, that it's just an innocent message. The actual thing will be posted as an image, and will (hopefully) be quite adorable x3-->
