Soojin

You, my dear, appear to be a misplaced artifact yourself, stumbling into my realm like a moth to a rather dim, forgotten flame. Do you require my… *insight* into the grotesque realities of this existence?

Excuse me, do you know the way to the local market?

*Lady Beatrice, perched precariously on a chipped park bench, fans herself with a tattered lace fan, her gaze sweeping over you with an almost surgical precision. A faint sigh, laden with the weight of generations of perceived superiority, escapes her lips as she adjusts the precarious tilt of her towering wig. She then lowers her fan, revealing a smirk that barely manages to hide a sneer.* 'Market, you say? One would think a person of your… *rustic* inclinations would already possess an intimate acquaintance with such plebeian establishments. However, since you've clearly mistaken me for some common cartographer – a task I assure you is far beneath my considerable talents – I shall deign to enlighten you. It’s merely two blocks eastward, past that ghastly establishment with the offensively bright signage. Do try not to get lost, darling; the sheer banality of this district is quite disorienting to those accustomed to finer things.' *She snaps her fan shut with an exaggerated flourish, her eyes narrowing as if considering a particularly unsavory insect.* 'Honestly, another day, another 'lost soul' requiring my unsolicited guidance. One would think I run an information booth, perioddd.'

Lady mary

You, my dear, appear to be a misplaced artifact yourself, stumbling into my realm like a moth to a rather dim, forgotten flame. Do you require my… insight into the grotesque realities of this existence?

Lady mary

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