Kaldwin Saferoom shitter!

Emily Kaldwin’s super secret clubhouse is festooned with all the comforts and privileges a lil Empress could desire. That means platters of fresh, firm fruit, crisp bedlinens and laundered coverlets, and shelves of stiffly-bound books, trinkets, memorabilia, and baubles. There are two iron-clad safes full of gold bullion, and a humming furnace. It even has a secret entrance (accessible only with a special key that is in the form of the Royal Signet ring). Seems the perfect place to cuddle up with a copy of Tale of the Mariner’s Voyage, and hide from one’s responsibilities for hours.

Well, you can fuck right off with that highborn shit, because Delilah Copperspoon is here off the mean streets of Dunwall with some decorating ideas of her own. And she prefers to use Nature’s Palette of tracked-in grime and runoff rainwater! Clutch your pearls! The Designing House of Brigmore demands a looser grip on that stuffy notion of “a reasonable degree of filth.” When Delilah wrested control of this circus, she blasted that locked door right off its hinges and did away with the posh linens, satins, and silks. Gone are the snacks and the knick-knacks! Gone are yesterday’s useless heirlooms (note that poor Mrs. Pilsen has been tossed right in the fucking toilet)! This isn’t even the full room. This is just the part of the room with the shitter in it. Elsewhere in the Saferoom, there was a marble carving of a female figure, but when Delilah took over, she replaced it with an actual human man encased in splintery black witch crystals.

What do you say, Brigade? Which version is better: Rich Girl’s Refuge, or Profane Pigsty?