"Say what you want, plenty of people find a butch queen compelling. Plus I have at least one or two pretty ones." She's thinking of Brock in some spaghetti strapped monstrosity with permed to death hair and it's killing her.

"Maybe. Nobody likes damaged goods, though. Why do you think he hit rock bottom once he was down a leg?" She shakes her head, a severe expression on her face as she condemns someone for taking part in a rebellion that she had a hand in.

"You've gotta save something for yourself. How else are you going to drink to forget?" A little concern crosses her face, even if she's aware that he's a douche. His family has been riding the sympathy pony for a while, but Jason smacks of someone stuck in a self fulfilling prophecy. She doesn't want to give him pity or charity, but her eyes fall to that suit and she can't help meddling.

"You should give me a break from petulant baby tributes sometime and let me sew you something. How much would that piss off Seven's stylists?"