[ The person that awaits Blythe is familiar, small and sharp eyed, dressed smartly. She extends her hand, offering a pure white, entirely too fancy, handkerchief.

It's not that Hlasoh doesn't respect it. She does, she knows Jessica is fighting for a future that might have less need of conniving bitches like them, and the man was a bastard of the first order. ]

I'm not mad, Jessica, but really? I haven't seen you in months and you decide to make my life that much more complicated without so much as a "how are you doing, lately?" Honestly. He was only my third least favorite cousin.

[ She makes an airy gesture of dismissal. ]

Well? How have you been, you shiftless ne'er-do-well?