At least some small part of Riyo had hoped at least Deacon would deny it. He would tell her that's not what he had intended and elegantly explain his efforts.

The rest of her, of course, knew better.

She stood there for a few long moments, waiting for some sort of answer. Conformation? Objection? Something.

But when nothing came, the ghoul's hands dropped to her sides. Her fists balled up tightly, almost painfully so.

"And to answer your question-" Now she was just forcing the words out. It was hard to tell whether she wanted to scream, cry, or both. "No. I lost the bet. So yes, everything is true. I. Am. An ugly. Shallow. Tramp." It wasn't like she lost because she was unattractive. She lost because Titus played dirty pool. This, however, was lost to the defeatist known as Riyo.

The ghoul threw on a smile. It was the most hollow, frigid smile she could possibly hope to muster. "Goodnight." Not that she hoped his night was good, but what was there left to say? Riyo was the one who said all those terrible things about herself, but Deacon was the one that let them fly.

Her posture returned to a more hunched over position as she continued the slow retreat back to her room, hoping to Jack he wouldn't try to interject again.