Remy blinked at this casual greeting, looking to the computers with a puzzled tilt of his head. Information then. Why was it Sinister was always after information? What good did it do you? Though he supposed some people would pay anything for the right information, maybe it wasn't such a profitless business after all.
"...Choo doin' here?" he asked in a vaguely accusitory voice, brow furrowing. His ears were perked and alert, ready to flee should more S.H.I.E.L.D. agents appear, but his eyes stayed locked on Sinister.