[b][color=a187be]Shinjiro Karasawa[/color][/b]

As if snapped out of his stupor, the camera girl's affectations of authority brought Karasawa's attention back onto her— and she was now trying to leave after snapping a whole truckload of photos. That on it's own didn't sit right with him, but there was other malarkey afoot atop that.

Malarkey that was irkin' him. Even in the low light, his attention to detail wasn't going to fail him that egregiously.

[color=a187be][i]Think I'm born yesterday, do ya? Fuhgeddabout it.[/i][/color]

Her efforts were rewarded with a firm hand gripping the back of her collar, intent on arresting her forward motion, and an annoyed snarl.

[color=a187be]"And I'm damn sure your armband-less ass counts as interferin' with Judgement business too, Li'l Miss [i]Paparazzi[/i]. What, you planning to sell those pictures off?"[/color]

He had run into Judgement and their screwy prioritization many times, and thus had gotten himself intimately familiar with the "uniform"— the ubiquitous striped green armband they all wore upon their sleeves and proudly displayed, flaunted, even openly [i]presented[/i] to their quarries.

[i]Judgement desu no![/i]

The girl wore no such band.

No matter what his multifaceted opinion of the organization may have been, he wasn't going to take some stranger at their word as one of 'em if they didn't have the threads to match. If he had to hone his proclivity for particularity in the student council room all semester for something, then it was for times like these.