Kristen grimaces and says to the girl, unsure if her curiosity is going to get her in trouble or not, “Yes, I'm a pro. But no, I don't necessarily take a fucking hit well. My ribs are shot all to hell at the moment.” Kristen sees the bartender's reaction, noting how weird it is.<em>So there must be something to this whole Alice Infestation thing,</em>she thinks,<em>because this seems to be the same chick. Then again, it did say Infestation. Might be more than one. Can't rule out anything that creepy at this point.</em><br/><br/>She rubs her abdomen in pain for a minute, and she says, “So whatever the hell you're interested in regarding me, it's going to have to wait until my torso doesn't feel like it's been smacked around with a meat cleaver several times until it's flat enough for carpaccio.” She slugged down the drink, shivering at the smoothness of the creamy alcohol, and said, “And it was either you or someone suspiciously like you watching me fight that thing in the crowd. Congratulations. You were such a damn help, weren't you?”<br/><br/>Kristen admitted to some disdain when dealing with people she thought of as laid back, cowards, or those who just “sat back” while others handled the work.