Kim

And another day goes by, a short night, more work, and that weird tingling feeling of tension and danger. Probably an after-effect of having been actually threatened with death by someone likely far more powerful than her.

You know, the usual day.

Kim entered the warehouse with a sigh of relief at the sight of the prisonner; seems her job hadn't been too shabby, or else Shina was just good at keeping guard. She guessed the latter. Silently, she came up to the girls interrogating the man, and sat on the first seat-looking object she could find and move there. Her frilly Radiant dress had gotten better, it seemed - weird how it seemed to repair itself even after being puked on by some acid-spitting zombie.

"Hi, girls. Had a nice day?" Even as she spoke, the half-hearted attempt at chit-chat felt ridiculous to her. There was no time, nor it seemed no desire, to have that kind of mundane bounding. People dying in the street, ever-growing darkness, ya-da ya-da. The usual drill.

She put her Device across her knees, and started tinkering with it again. Though she tried to make it look like she didn't take part in the conversation, the glances she took at Gerald were telling: she was fully there, studying his every word.