[B]Gratia Mindaro - "Dei Tour" (It's stuck in my head you goddamned shithead!)[/B]

"[color=66cd00]I don't have the time to date you.[/color]"

The remains of her second slice of pizza descended down her oesophagus. She quietly reached for her next slice, letting her eyes linger on the cheese-covered olives somehow attached to the thick crust of the pastry. Sauce haphazardly painted the box; such a waste, whoever was responsible for making the pizza, while skilled in bringing out the flavour of all the ingredients, was horrible at properly preparing the food. Likely some unmotivated teenager working for minimum wage. Fucking fatasses; they were getting paid and they weren't even trying to shit out quality.

Gratia chewed on the slice, far more solemn than she had previously been when dealing with Fiordilatte. Her "compatriot" was one of the few people that could consistently bring her out of her standard impassivity; otherwise, she was usually quiet and aloof, rarely speaking her mind unless directly addressed, and even then, there wouldn't be much for her to say. Dealing with others was honestly a waste of time, unless they were annoying shits who deserved to be lambasted by her long strings of rude epithets.

"[color=66cd00]It's real fucking creepy that you're letting Fiordilatte sleep on your feathers though,[/color]" continued the Hunter upon a slight pause. "[color=66cd00]It's like Venetia giving him an ass cushion made from her own fucking hair.[/color]"