"Hoooly fuck," Lyra dropped herself down crosslegged opposite Rosario, giving her head a long slow shake. "Where do you wanna even start with all that?" she asked, as the feeling of being alone with Rosario started to settle in. The feeling that she didn't have to pretend, or be polite in front of strangers, or do anything other than blurt out just what she was thinking. "My brain wants to freak about something but I don't even know which bit. Holy fucking shit... I got my two big contenders. One: I got the contact details of a saint who might be my father. What. The actual shit. How do I send that email? Two: If Archer is your dad that means I've slept with your father and augh," she added, pushing her hand into her stomach. "Don't like that, don't like that at all."