[Despite how flippant and casual his conversation's body language seemed to be, languidly sipping at her drink in a corner of the courtyard and watching the flow of people all around them... her eyes are focused on John Gaius. Eyes so dark and large they almost seemed more animal than human, yet... there was something off about them, to someone with a critical mind. Something about how the sparkle of the champagne, the light glinting off his iridescent cloak... none of it was reflected there.

They took, but they did not give much back at all.]

"The things you have"...

[She mulls over the word, still smiling idly.]

You must have a fascinating fortune... if only I had already made a choice.

[How strange it was, to be without "powers". How many centuries had it been, since she'd felt killable? Since her eyes hadn't been able to pick out the threads and karma that connected others. It was almost like going blind. Like being mortal.]

What line of work is that, I wonder?