"Thanks," Stacia says, bemused but with every sign of sincerity. She's identified as a bitch ever since she started to outgrow 'brat'; she barely recognizes it as an insult anymore.

"You seem like a dipshit, but I'm sure that can be resolved by smacking you upside the head enough times," she responds in kind; then blinks in surprise. "Normally I wouldn't say that to your face. Huh."

If he were a Ragabash, she'd suspect she'd just been hit with Slip of the Tongue. She looks around to see if she can spot anyone else, before probing the area she'd been shot.

"What the hell?"