Victorians.

Almost on instinct, Aoife felt her neck tense up. 

[i]Victorians.[/i]

As yet, she hadn't told any member of Rhodes Island any piece of her past more than they were required to know. She didn't have any kind of Dublinn iconography left on her, nothing that would indicate any kind of allegiance. The only thing to hint at her origin was the unshakeable accent that clung to her every word, something that she could stop no more than breathing. And in Rhodes Island, it seemed that nobody particularly cared. She thought she'd heard someone else talking in a similar accent, but every time, she'd turned and walked the other way. She didn't want to deal with any of it anymore. In all likelihood there was no link to Dublinn; but there [i]could[/i] be, and that was enough.

The crystals embedded in her left shoulder twinged, and she winced as she rolled the joint. It never did anything for the pain, but she couldn't help but do it anyway.

That being said...as little as Rhodes Island seemed to care about the few hints of her past that she gave off...Rhodes Island weren't [i]Victorians.[/i] She had a bit of a paranoia attached to them ever since she could remember; and the County Hillock incident had only made it so much worse. Being around any number of them now was enough to make her skin start to itch, and certainly enough to stay well and truly silent. Ideally, to never see or interact with them at all.

But this wasn't exactly an ideal situation.

So Aoife turned to Seven, wiping the fringe of her hair away from her face, where it had already begun to take on sweat. "[color=paleturquoise]Think being Rhodes Island could give us some pull on customs?[/color]" A pause as she inhaled a long breath--"[color=paleturquoise]You know better than me.[/color]"