[Lucinda is dangerously aware of her appeal.

In her late teens, she had thought it was all Flora's doing. The spirit's sweet scent can draw people towards her, soften them to suggestion, and in most cases (because this is the most coveted for the Collective's operations), forget.

Her mother (the new one), dressed her up and worked around her ghost tattoos and the real ones to enhance her appearance. Working with other Collective members taught her how to use everything about herself to her advantage, not just her abilities to see and speak to shadows or have her three friends do her bidding.

She's a formidable agent for reasons other than her strange ghosts.

Lucinda seats herself against the wall with her serving using a fork to delicately cut into her meal. She's a slow eater.]

No whinging. [Her lips quirk a little at the word.] That's a promise.

[Not that she's done much of it if any at all. It could be mistaken as passivity, but it's more of a calculated move.

Or maybe she's just enjoying her time in this new world.]

Feather can wake me up. [She beams at Weir.]

So if you hear a thump on your floors, that's just her taking possession and making me roll off the bed.