"Someone else here called me a walking obscenity," replies Gideon, clearly pleased with this description. She puts the dagger back; briefly considers a long dirk with a wicked-looking backhand spike; and then reminds herself she's not actually here for combat shit. "Fish knife..." she mutters to herself. You'd want something almost delicate; something you can really control. It's kind of the opposite of what she's usually looking for. Fish bones are thin and brittle, and the goal isn't to smash through 'em but only separate them at the joints.

There are a few small kitchen knives, and she selects one with a tapered blade, gently curved, and then on second thought also grabs a heavy cleaver. "For the beheadings," she explains to Susan.