I mean, no shit. Sinners don't fucking die unless an angel kills you, right? No wonder you types are usually so fucked in the head.

[All because he lives and works in Pride doesn't mean that he doesn't think Sinners are a special kind of fucked up sometimes. More than some other parts of Hell anyway.

Blitzø picks up his cards and fans them out with a practised air. Growing up in the circus he'd learned a few slight of hand tricks for theft showmanship thanks to dear old dad, not that he tends to use them so much now.]

Four of a kind.