"Has there been any word on the Movement?" Carmen asked suddenly, snapping out of her reverie and turning her head away from the entrancing view of tunnel wall. To her surprise, Lolita was staring at her in an offended manner, and Jeredynn wore an odd expression of half-boredom half-amusement, so his lips only quirked up on one side. She realised too late that Lolita had probably still been talking and she had just cut her off mid-flow.
"Uh.... sorry," Carmen offered sheepishly. Appeased, Lolita consulted her everpresent clipboard.
"No new updates," she confirmed, "Though there's been a rash of shadow attacks in the metro area from five o'clock yesterday afternoon to six this morning. All on randomers, it would seem, so no links there, and of the two who were cornered one vanished and the other got destroyed."
Carmen twisted her face into the appropriate expression of ''what a shame''. It was easy for her to wear it, when she was really thinking ''what a shame we all became such fragile broken things''. It was true; Carmen was now tired of how easily a human body could be snapped, their minds corroded or tortured into insanity, how little they could really withstand, so with their weak frames of mind they turned on each other and attempted to tear themselves apart. The shadows had told her that.
She looked back at Jeredynn, at his trusting face. What a shame, she thought again.