Sato answered the man's token courtesy with a gentle incline of her own, skirts briefly spread. Nonetheless irony lingered in the motion. "Accepted as given, monsieur."
"Always the magpie," Sato said to Ash, tone light. "And a scoundrel, no matter the packaging. If you've such a grievance with the man--personage, why bother attending? In fact," the masked gaze swept the room, curt and accurate, "why are so many of your kin and make in attendance? Since when do Sins and Hell's gentry seek the Reaper's company unforced? I was under the impression there was little love between you currently."
But even as her voice remained laughing, something a great deal humorous was dawning to the Baku. That Ash knew Death was unsurprising and little cause to worry on its own. But Ash had known Joseph. And if the hellion were to recognize the face of former worn on the latter...
Sato really, really, really did hate the holidays.