She inclines her head, with a ripple of movement in her shoulders that might have been some bare approximation of a shrug. Most often what she does is little movements like closing a door, simple tiny things that seem comparatively harmless--it's to ease people in, and she never really shows all of her cards, but this way they're not so surprised if something happens by accident.

"I did." No shame, but no particular attachment to the act, either. "I can pretend to be what the Candlelighters would perceive as 'normal' pretty well, and I'm discreet for reasons of flexibility, but I take their dogma personally."

But she can put that aside to sleep with a bigot who'd probably like to see her vivisected if he knew her true nature, if it benefits the cause at hand.

"In those transmissions," she says, leaning forward, a touch more earnest now, focused, "they made it seem like they'd really refined their stelanmancy. Like they could bring just about anything in."