[h1][color=00ff66][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5595471]Kit Galloway[/url][/color][/h1]
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There was the distant chime of the suite doorbell, then as Kit Galloway glanced at the time in the corner of his display, he heard a very familiar yelp from Deacon Salisbury. A ghost of a smile graced his lips. One would have thought a member of the Cult of Strength would be more... manly.

There was a familiar knock on his door, and it slid aside to reveal a grinning Gator, in Galloway livery, holding aloft his tiffin, all locked up. It didn't pay to take chances someone wasn't out to get you.

"Still not eating the boss?" she asked, stepping inside.
"Still not eating [i]with[/i] the boss [i]in[/i] the executive dining room," he corrected. "And certainly glad not to be doing it today. Shut the door."

Gator turned, sliding the door closed. Kit pressed a hidden button under the edge of his desk and listened to the lock of his reinforced door latched. The inner windows opaques and begin to vibrate as the thermal blinds scroll down. Gator cocks an ear curiously. "That new?"

"New Aluvahin band," he admitted. "All songs praising the ancestors. I recorded several live tracks while I was investigating that warehouse case last week. Mixing two tracks and something from the archive called 'Crazy Frog, should block the listeners.'"

"More classical music?" Gator sighs, rolling her eyes.
"Did you bring it?"
"Of course," Gator replied, producing an autoinjector and handing it over.
"Ah, thank you..!" Kit replied, a rare grin on his face as he started prepping it. "Any trouble on the trolley?"
"A podder," the dweller shrugged, "Wanted quote about the ceiling idiots, then tried to bribe me to tell him your mutation."

"Are they still on about that?" Kit sighs, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, then pulling back the left side of his shirt to reveal the stainless steel ring and the red synthetic material for the injection port on his muscular chest. "What did you tell him?" 

"I played the crazy dweller," Gator smiled, the green in her cheeks blushing darkly, "And I promised to tell him everything I know, as long as I got his liver and one of his eyes."
"His liver?" Kit smirked, pressing the bottom of his autoinjector over the port. Pushing down on the button, the autoinjector whirled as its contents poured into him.
"I thought it was a fair trade, he looked nice and plump. You need to swim more," Gator noted, nodding at his chest. "Soften those muscles."
"Yeah, I do," Kit sighed, pulling the injector away and tossing it onto his desk where Gator plucked it up and tucked it away again inside her clothes.

"So, what did you bring for lunch? Fresh liver?"
"Chicken curry, they used the new machine to culture the chicken, very nice."