"Don't worry, don't worry," Senna says to the elf's concerns as they enter.<br/><br/>When the armor hits the ground, she picks it up and lays it out neatly across one side of a table, setting out a sheet of note paper on the other as she closes the door and spares Allie a couple more words.  "We just need a space a tad more private than the pub proper; we won't be five minutes."<br/><br/>With that, she gets to work, going back and forth between Fallon and her notes, jotting down measurements, occasionally jerking one limb or another to get it into whatever position she needs.  She is practiced and professional from beginning to end, her hands not taking any undue liberties, whether they'd be welcome or not.  "Alrighty, that should do it.  Thank you, Fallon.  And thanks for yer patience, Allie."  She returns to her records, rearranging them once more as she gets ready to leave for the long night's work ahead.