"Sure, according to my friends who deal with spirits, anyway." Saturday has no such compunctions, on account spirits are very normal and public anyhow. "But they had to like, learn how to see things from their perspective so I think my point still stands."

She gestures vaguely with the cup of flat sparkling fruit juice she's finally started remembering not to sip from.

"I mean, I guess some spirits are okay, but like - when you get punished for the spiritual equivalent of being thrown through a window by someone trying to kill you because your body made the mess so it's yours according to weird spirit law, it's hard to feel kindly towards them. I've met some that are all right, though. Dweller on the Threshold's still a fucking asshole, though."