"How about... The WOUNDING WEAPON?" Corundum suggested. "...of WARFARE?"

It was the seventh or eighth possible title she'd chucked Mirac's way as they walked, her demeanor casually cheerful. Some of the titles were awful. Some, like this one, were... okay, if stacked on other titles. And some were pretty good.

It wasn't that Corundum was ignoring Azrael, particularly. She was chatty regardless, and friendly with both. But she was brainstorming now--since there wasn't any real Order to be found about. They were meant to be patrolling here for awhile.

Since there seemed to be no real work to do, she was trying to get to know her companions a little bit.

"So do you use-... I mean, do you wield him a lot?" she asked, picking her way around a pile of bones. That bit was obviously directed at the demon.

She turned to grin at him, idly casting out her magic--an attempt to get an idea of whether any drones might be in hiding farther on--only for it to backfire. Before anyone could answer, she was face-down in the dust, hands clutched over her giant ears, snarling. "Ahhhh FUUUUUUUCK! FUCK! ...FUCK!" she cried. "FUCKING magic! Fuck!"