Throughout the explanation, Alabaster held a captive audience; indeed, save for the occasional blink and nod to indicate that she was listening, Saga didn't budge or even shift or fidget. Duff had long since bored of the conversation and his toy of choice and had fallen asleep on the table, but his housemate couldn't have been more fascinated.

The world of Whitechapel seemed like a fantasy come to life-- and probably was, knowing what gods were capable of-- and she was only disappointed that she hadn't been able to experience the place herself. The disease he'd mentioned, however... that had her concerned. And the city Alabaster spoke of sounded so controlled. People were bound to dislike being under that much control.

"People will always have differing opinions on the nature of something," she remarked, finally leaning back in her chair. "There's no point in arguing for either one, since both sides will always believe their own views. That aside, that's quite a city you live in. Your Gods are interesting, too. And one watches through a clock--"

Realization smacked straight into the back of her head with such force that she literally jumped. Precision. Order. Clocks. Time. Of course. Why hadn't she realized it sooner?!