I gave up making sense, but that sort of mind-bending shit comes up in conversation, and then what am I supposed to do? We don't have a lot of magic and demons and hundred-year-old-weapons-turned-twink in Ontario.

[Let her huff, is what she's saying.

She grins at the proposition, though she keeps her gaze on the party. It's about damned time.]

I could do with a shake-up. What'd you have in mind?