[BlueInTheShell]

"Atrocious is watching poor people touch me with their hands, expecting a hand out. Atrocious is the fact half of these women in here are pilfered off to men, when they could be farming my fields. Both the literal kind and the other kind. Even though you're all ugly. Save for you. Maybe." Tritonia snorted, opening and closing her hand. She takes care of us. Wah wah wah. Because you're all to weak to take care of yourselves.

"I'm here because I have to be. I'm supposed to be using my voice to pulp someone here. I just don't feel like smearing their matter into the walls right now. And because I'm looking for someone as well. You wouldn't know them. You're not important enough." Tritonia huffed, chugging more ale and sticking out her tongue and cacking at the aftertaste from the metal of its container. "...Why would I sully my own hands? The Count had a habit of preying on peasants. That's rude. They're good for exploiting for monet. 'Oh Miss Tritonia. Please save us from perdition. Play us a song.' It's so amusing when they think they're people."