[If Lockon hadn't been wearing his gloves there would be deep grooves in his palms from his nails, considering how tightly clenched his fists were. He moved forward with Tieria's backing away, not intentionally looming, but everything about his expression screamed 'warning signs before the storm; imminent danger of exploding'.]

There is nothing wrong with my scores that a field mission couldn't cure. [His voice was steel. He shook his head, movement as tight as his fists, as though putting an end to that unimportant reasoning, and then he fixed Tieria with a look again. For all that Tieria was refusing to look him in the eye, Lockon appeared to have an intense enough glare for both of them. If anything, it intensified, and the steel in his voice took on an even harsher edge than before.]

And you've got a hell of a lot of nerve talking about my attitude. Going to have to explain that one a little more, Tieria.