( please wait )
content warnings: general prompt warnings, canto three and four spoilers, possible future references to genocide

( ah, she's alive. that's the first thing kromer thinks when she finds herself on the couch, drowsy from the nap(?) she seems to have taken. she squints at the television, slowly pushing herself up. the house almost, almost reminds her of the one she used to live in: a little outdated, a little dirty, definitely lonely.

first thing's first: investigation, which she sets off to do. the kitchen, bathroom, upstairs--she gives a careful look around all of them, only pausing in the bathroom to undress a little and check for any hints of her last battle. most of the cuts seemed to have been healed by the power of that bough, but there's a scar from her hip to her shoulder she recognizes must be from... she redresses and pauses, listening.

seems like she really isn't the only one here!

kromer peeks around the hallway corner and laughs, raising a hand. by her head is a picture that seems to shift in the shadows, twisting into a school photograph of her and her class. this one is real. this one is, at least. )

Hey there! Did you just wake up too? I've been checking around--seems pretty normal. ( the incessant knocking aside, something that makes the back of her neck prickle. her smile remains perfectly curved though, unflappable. reassuring in its confidence, maybe, or perhaps a little off-putting considering the situation. the line is precarious. ) The house does, anyway. The situation... Well, not so much. Maybe a Corporation's getting real experimental with its ideas.

( a beat, and she steps out more, hand settling on the pommel of her sword in an easy-going manner. )

Ahaha... Or maybe that's all nonsense. The name's Kromer. You?

( the televisions startles back to life, talking about an escaped convict. )

( bot problem )
content warnings: general prompt warnings, gratuitous violence against robots

( it's strange.

these things are difficult to kill--not impossible, certainly, but difficult--yet ... their remains are scattered across the road here, and a little further down. there's shrapnel from bombs too, and someone's giggling just around the corner--

it's kromer. of course it is, as she thrusts her nail-like sword through a barely moving dog; she seems experienced in dealing with this type of foe going by the deliberate marks on the dog's metal coating until she'd managed to bend it enough to get through. her sword, notably, also has little wear to it: it, too, is meant for this type of work.

she takes the armored fist of her left hand to pound against the pommel until the sword finally goes all the way through it, the dog twitching once before stalling, and she laughs. )

Hahaha! To think even this place would have scum like this hanging around... ( ...ahaha? she looks up--she isn't completely unharmed, going by the scratches on her face and the bloody tears in her white uniform--but, well, she's standing. she straightens up, placing both her hands on her sword and yanking it unceremoniously out of the metal dog before she kicks it roughly to the side, clanging against one of the buildings.

haha. ) Been harassed recently, stranger? I've been trying to hunt as many of these mutt mimics as possible, but I'm sure I haven't managed to get them all...

( a wide smile. friendly. confident. her silver eyes glimmer with a little bit of manic energy, or maybe that's just the way the light falls on them. )

If you need a little help, I don't mind lending a hand. Actually... I'd be more than happy to get rid of these ugly affronts.