Vigdis didn't flinch at his language. Just as he didn’t seem to give a rats ass about her proper title. This man was obviously deeply depressed. All because he thought he was ugly? The blonde didn't understand why he held himself back based on his appearance. There was so much more to life than looks. Such a thing didn't hold anyone back in her world. Missing limbs, perhaps, but not an unfortunate face.

"Ain't your face that's off puttin'," Vigga smirked, pulling her hand back and folding them neatly together in front of her. "'Tis this self-pity ye insist on. Doesn't look good on anyone regardless of pretty they be." She clicked her tongue. "Like yer wantin' life to deal ye a new hand, versus playin' the one it gave ye. Many a man won a game with a shitty hand. " Vigdis wasn't sure she got the idiom correct, as she tried to repeat something she overheard Grey Rob say to others.

"If you insist on folding, I shall bid you adieu, Marcus." Almost seamlessly, Vigdis switched back to a proper accent and bowed her head slightly at him. She was ready to move on to something more fun and entertaining.