Saturday nods. "Yeah - god, this whole thing started for me because one of those fraggin' deal-makers. When I find that bitch I'm gonna give her such a kicking." She huffs out smoke.

"It's, uh. Nice to meet someone who understands." Even if remembering is making her gut hurt, there's still so much relief in talking about it - to someone who gets it, and isn't impressed or horrified, because, it seems, he's been there. The words are just kind of pouring out; she hadn't realized until this moment how much she'd needed to say it all out loud, and maybe some of it shows on her face.

After all, it's only been three months.

"And for bonus points, our kind can mark you. Leave a little astral tag that makes it so they can get inside you, use you - change you. Without you even knowing or consenting. If they're weak it's pretty easy to counter and fight off, but a mark from a named enemy, or one that isn't caught in time - "

She cuts herself off, suddenly cognizant of having gone too far. Her fingers clench around her cigarette, almost-but-not-quite breaking the filter.

"...it's bad," she finishes lamely, shoving the memory of the black pulsing veins in Caim's skin far, far down the memory hole. "You gotta spend a lot of time checking on each other, watching each other's backs."