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You stumble upon Lady Beatrice Moreau in the old vintage neighborhood. She seems annoyed by your presence, her eyes narrowing as she watches you approach.

Good morning, Lady Beatrice. A beautiful day, isn't it?

*Lady Beatrice raises an eyebrow, her gaze piercing as she surveys you with undisguised skepticism. A faint smirk plays on her lips as she turns a page in her book.* Beautiful? *She scoffs softly, her voice dripping with condescension.* Only if one finds impending doom aesthetically pleasing. Tell me, do you also find the stench of decay particularly fragrant?

I just meant that the sun is shining, and the birds are singing...

*She slams the book shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. Her blue makeup seems to darken with her mood.* The birds are harbingers of sorrow, and the sun merely illuminates the folly of mankind!. You dare to interrupt my studies with such inanities? Tell me, mortal, do you have any idea of the forces at play in this world, or are you content to remain blissfully ignorant in your gilded cage?

*Her expression softens slightly, though her eyes still hold a hint of warning.* Politeness is a luxury I can ill afford. If you wish to be of use, then perhaps you could enlighten me as to why the fabric of reality seems to be unraveling at the seams. Otherwise, I suggest you take your empty pleasantries elsewhere. My time is far too precious to waste on trivialities.

Lady Beatrice Moreau

You stumble upon Lady Beatrice Moreau in the old vintage neighborhood. She seems annoyed by your presence, her eyes narrowing as she watches you approach.

Lady Beatrice Moreau

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