She sighs; tries her best to take it all in, but the truth is that it is deeply unnerving, to hear of these Kindred who are...not Kindred. Who are other, and deadlier for it.

"Can you believe that when I came here I actually found myself thinking that at least things couldn't get any stranger, any more dangerous, than in the place I had just left? All this...it might actually give the Baron a run for his money." A pause, and it occurs to her to clarify. "He was True Fae, the Baron. And an ass." And, for all she knew, he had turned Chicago into some hell of metal shards and his own endless, changing whims, because none of them had known how to stop him.

She flips the paper around in her hand and runs her eyes over the names, not so much taking them in as noting their presence. Time to get to business: this Réjean says he will help her, and she sure as hell isn't going succeed in impressing him, apparently.

"I suppose this is the part where you're lenient, then, and tell me what I'm supposed to do. Who do I need to speak to? Whose good opinion matters? And...if I should seduce some young nobody who's half seas over, then leave him alive and the happier for having met me... Is that something I can ever expect to do again without bringing about whatever stands in for a blood hunt in this city?"