She was taunting him, throwing herself into his perception and then gloating in it. He was no fool, and he knew Absinthe for what she was. His mental structure however was cracked, and his concentration was skewed.
He needed something to take the edge off that wasn't a massacre down the streets of New York. It was why he'd come in the first place.
"My semblance is not set for bargains. Not now." He demanded.