Johanna snorts and tries to think about the last person who called her complacent. She's pretty sure that she's the one who killed that person, so it's nice to know that she doesn't have to pretend to be the meek little girl from Seven anymore. "So long as there's an enemy to fight, I'm in. Especially if it means I get the fuck out of here," she says, draining back her drink with one hard shot, searching the table for a stronger refill.

"I'll bring weapons," she says. "For me. Not to share."