[ Well, she did come from Tinder culture and then die, so it's enough to jade even the dreamiest of romantics. And she recognizes that she's lucky, that she didn't come from a world where a woman needed a man to survive. It's new even for them. But it doesn't mean that she hasn't seen, lived through the aftermath of men's selfishness, their failures. She grew up learning that the worst thing she could make a man feel is anger, because he might beat her or else find another woman. That the price of love was turning a blind eye to betrayal, to abuse. She watched her female relatives and friends endlessly pick up the shattered pieces of themselves while the men who broke them pretended they couldn't hear the pained cries.

Julie doesn't care for most people, as a general rule. Views others first and foremost as tools to provide her with what she wants. That goes double for men. The walls that surround her heart tower twice as tall for anyone with a Y-chromosome. The risk they bring is so much greater than any woman.

She laughs a little, takes a sip and another hit before she passes the joint back. ] If I want a man dead, I'll do it myself. Hell hath no fury and all that. [ There's a pause where she looks at Jaskier from the corner of her eye. ] No, he wasn't struck by lightnin'. There's no one "him". It's all "him"s.

[ The sky takes on a purple cast, and she stands, offers him her hand. ] C'mon, I'll show you fireworks.