It wouldn't surprise me that there was a distinct lack of emotion in Spencer's voice as he began explaining the plague that overtook the city he had been residing in. The void tone in his voice evoked only a slight twitch of the corners of my lips; while he may have sounded unintentionally callous, I found the apathy near endearing and instead of attempting a sympathetic nod, I merely ignored the statement all together as if it hadn't been spoken. Surely he wouldn't bother taking notice of my lack of worry about this supposed plague, and instead he clearly began contemplating what had been my proceeding remarks about business.

"Fuck the formality, Spencer," I started to say, lackadaisically stretching the previously tense muscles in my neck with a gentle roll of my shoulders. "While your affinity for networking is impressive, I can hand over whatever contacts I have in the city. I'm entirely over pretending to manage customer service, and I have a store in dire need of someone who can tolerate customers."

It was entirely too true. Arsenaal was a tremendous asset to any kind of business I'd been able to drum up in Sacrosanct, but the patrons of said store were so tiring and trying that I often had to forgoe sales and potential customers due to their stupidity and my lack of ability to handle them. I simply didn't want to; I hadn't even wanted control of the business to be entirely honest. When the owner of the shop 'vanished' (read: gambling debts? Sure, sure...) and the business was unfortunately left in my hands, I had a great opportunity to turn it into a profitable venture, but I was incredibly unamused with the customers who might feed into said venture. Spencer was far more amicable than I, and he would be a tremendous choice to build the business further and acquire more contacts, profit, and notoriety. I would simply have to stand back and invest myself in the part of the business I actually enjoyed, honing the craft of magical charming artifacts and creating weapons.

With a short draw on my dwindling cigarette, I acknowledged Spencer's question with a cocked eyebrow and a similar smirk that mirrored the one tickling his features. Was my city immune to idiocy? Without hesitation, numerous names surfaced in my immediate thoughts that rang heavily of idiocy. There was the blonde hunter that was the bane of my existence, but... Regrettably, idiocy was not a trait I could link to his name without immense amounts of effort that could rightfully have been invested elsewhere. Idiocy permeated much of the city, rife in populations of fae and hunters alike. As for the rampant hordes of stray animals, Spencer was unfortunately entirely on point. The population of were-creatures running wild in this city was climbing at an intense rate, especially the population of the canine variety; something that infected my thoughts briefly and sent a wrinkle through my nose in distaste. With an exhale, I nodded as if affirming all of Spencer's information without a word until whatever form of reply had formulated on my lips.

"Idiocy? Ha," I muttered, adorning the utterance with a roll of my eyes. "About as immune as Liberia to Ebola. There are a handful of hunters who are tolerable, and several of whom I have a managed a deal with. Remain distinctly under the radar and one of their superiors keeps the Council from looking my way. As for the strays..." I trailed off, shrugging a shoulder. "My brother has ties with one of the packs and as Witches, we have a particular affinity to acquire said strays as familiars... So long as you stay away from the silver wolf with the scars, you'll likely have no issues with them."