Nishino's morning started out like any other. She woke up, brushed her hair, bound her chest, got something to eat, and brushed her teeth. Like soap, toothpaste was still in fairly high commodity, and even though not everyone used it she still found it necessary to keep to some level of hygiene - Post-apocalyptic world or not. She breathed deeply through her nose before spitting out the remnants of the mix of toothpaste and saliva, dark brown eyes meeting their own reflection in the slightly cracked mirror hanging in front of her. She placed the toothbrush back in the glass on the sink, then tucked a lock of raven hair behind one ear, giving herself a small smile. The world might be a hell to live in, but she certainly didn't look like some wretched demon or whatever - No. She thought herself rather pretty, definitely one of the better looking girls of the Refuge. [i]What? Can't a girl admire herself a bit?[/i] She thought, silencing the voice in the back of her mind shouting something about arrogance. She shook her head, and rinsed what was left of the paste out of her mouth, taking a small drink afterwards before walking into the workroom through the door in the back of it. Her home had once been an antique shop, complete with a rather spacious backroom and even larger front room with shelves lining the walls and floor. A million and one odds and ends had been at display, only for everything to have been stripped down for materials when the Refuge started construction. In her time living in the Refuge, Nishino and her parents had split up the front room into two, one being a living room and the other a sort of lobby. Following the death of her parents, Nishino had converted them into a workshop and a proper shop respectively, using an old wooden desk she found in the backroom which she now used as a bedroom; she counted herself lucky that the shop had a functioning toilet, although, she still had to use the public baths, or borrow Nick's. She preferred the former, despite Nick being a great guy. She had quite a while until it was time to meet up for the Darkling Hunt, but it wouldn't hurt to be early. Especially not if she wanted to get a spot, since she expected that quite a few people would want to join - the reward was high, after all. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding - probably some small amount of anxiety that everyone felt before a big show-down - and walked over to a large cabinet in which she kept her armour and weapons. Opening it, she was greeted with the sight of a samurai-esque armour, complete with a couple of katanas standing beside it. The samurai illiusion, however, was shattered by the presence of a large, black sniper rifle, a handgun, and a collection of plum-sized bombs - the bombs and the gun, as well as the ammo for the weapons, being located on a shelf above the armour and swords. She took it out and took on the chestplate first, tightening the iron-reinforced leather straps to keep it on her. Next came a pair of arm and leg guards, as well as a pair of fingerless gloves. The katanas were strapped to her left hip, the handgun to her right. The smaller blade - the Wakizashi - was strapped to her back right at her tailbone. She slung a bag filled with canned food and slush, and other necessities, onto her back, followed closely by the sniper rifle. The bombs and what ammo she had was put into easily accessible pockets in her bagpack. Small she may be, she was still well trained and the load on her wasn't all that bad. So with a determined expression, if a little excited, she went off towards the meeting place. ----- There were more applicants that she had expected. She'd expected perhaps ten, but it turned out to be nearly double that amount. Miss Fortune smiled upon her, though, as she ended up as one of the ones the Expedition Leader chose for the job. She had answered all the questions he posed her, even if one of them wasn't answered with the entire truth. She had almost grimaced at that one, only managing to keep a straight face by turning away. She stood straight with one hand resting on the hilt of her katanas, dark eyes following Eli - even if she didn't yet know his name. Yet. She could see by the way he moved that he was experienced when it came to fighting, or at least survival. Regardless of which it was, she knew he wasn't a complete newbie like many of the applicants had been - a degenerating comment, sure, but true nonetheless. As she did so, she mulled over what he had said and the rest of the group that would accompany him. They were diverse, which was good; each of them with a variety of skills that would aid them in this way and that way. A crease on her brow did appear on her face, however, at one of the things he said. She shouldn't be surprised that he referred to her as 'Samurai' given her choice of attire, but to not be recognised at all? It certainly wasn't something she expected. "I have two questions. First, what's your name? And second, does the phrase 'The Crazed Weaponsmith' mean anything to you?" [i]Am I arrogant? Perhaps. Or perhaps I just want to be recognised for something I actually am rather than a name that explains little aside from my choice of armour.[/i]