Re: Starling/Magpie.
"How cute," she said. "Oratory with a side of religion." Ofelia lingered for a moment, long enough to affectionately pat the Magpie's cheek – much like an indulgent aunt, perhaps, or a cheeky older sister.
She bowed, with an elegant flourish that did not typically suit a gambler with business interests in the tenement district. And in that second, Starling was briefly reminiscent of the pristine white uniform of the Ninth Bureau, the black-and-white checkered floor tiles and pale marble architecture, the soaring archways of the birdcage. For King and country, she mouthed under her breath, blew a kiss, and promptly disappeared back into the Mist.