"There wasn't any fuckin' word from my own flightmates, that's the problem!" She barks back, putting her hands on her hips and staring him down as though glaring and bickering is going to solve any problems (that's how problems are solved, right?). "You just went off talkin' shit well, you can talk shit all you want, but if you're sayin' you're in charge of a group that contains me then you're old and senile."

It's such a petty point to add to the argument, and yet, "An' you look like you're a millennia old." And she looks like she's a couple drinks away from completely wasted, but hey.

But, excessive drinking and ridiculous attire aside, she does actually have a problem with being subordinate to anyone here. Having control over every sea and criminal in it has kind of spoiled her. "Yeah an' what the fuck did you do besides stir up some shit, anyway? Is that what gets blackflight ahead, shit disturbin'? 'Cause I'm fuckin' fantastic at that, I'll fuckin' go start shit right now."