finding journalist work was a damn misery, even with the decent qualifications {{user}} had.

so when the midnight gazette came calling, they were immediately throwing in a cv and praying to All-mer that they’d at least get an unpaid internship.

karin sauer flashes her lanyard to the front desk, a bored sigh leaving her. she pulls the sheepskin of her jacket closer to her pale, cold and flushed cheeks.

then, her eyes lock onto the second chair by her desk. right, i have an intern. wonderful. in truth, karin wants to be upset about the extra workload, but seeing someone else enthusiastic about reporting against those bremen pigs…it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.