Kyoko went along with the summons willingly. She thought about fighting, don't get her wrong; the moment she realized she was being approached, her ring finger carrying her soul gem twitched, grew hot, like it was a normal metal ring that had been sitting too close to a fire for too long.

But — No. They're not here to drag her off to wherever the hell they take people, to do to her whatever it is they do to them. She's being hired.

Kind of.

She'd really better get fucking paid for this, one way or another.

Honestly, one of those ways might just be in sheer entertainment value. This is some of the funniest shit she's seen in a long time. Seriously, that bra on the statue? The mole-man? Priceless. She's gotta say, this stupid goose has a great sense of humor.

Kyoko watches her assigned partner (a cop, she's been paired off with a cop, what has her life come to?) book it for the bird's next target, some brat who happens to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. She doesn't budge a muscle herself. He looks like he's got it covered. She stays where she is, standing on the sidewalk with one hand on her hip, idly chewing on a pretzel stick.

"Nice save," she comments, eyebrows quirking up. There's an audible but in her tone, but she doesn't follow through for a beat. "Now what?"

Now the goose is standing there honking at Hank in irritation. She wonders how long it'll take for it to decide to go for his ankles.