So she didn't need to kill anyone. That was good. Although she had jeans now and a jacket, she still wore the costume. A hand dove into her front pocket to dig something out.
The name tag was eventually betwixt her sylphic fingers, momoko indented in mud-gloss black, bridging a little intimation as to why she so sloppily scribed with her left hand earlier. It was not her native habit. A few loitering, disheveled pink Hello Kitty Band-Aids on her punching-knuckles were tell-tale. What lay beneath the informative sticky-cat-stack not so elusively, was dried but somewhat drenched through.