In spite of herself, of her unflagging cynicism and pursuit of everyone's darker side, Paparazzi couldn't help but grin at the young god's enthusiasm. She might have epitomized schadenfreude and refined tearing at someone's weak spots into an art form, but she was prone to fits of soft-heartedness, and to seizing on something or someone shiny as her new project. This Facebook, this baby goddess, was her new project, her Susan Boyle.
"Oh don't even mention it, Pheebs," Diana purred in a tone of voice that said never stop mentioning it. "It's my pleasure."
"Now," she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "First things first, do you have a place to live?"