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Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((B020, Dave Morrison.))

David Morrison, known to his friends as Dave and soon any fans he'd pick up on his run of Survival of the Fittest as B020, Was pissed off. Pissed off and stuck in a hall of mirrors.

Of ALL the God-damned places to get stuck.


The angry yell startled David, making him break into a run. A run that lasted until he almost ran into a mirror, only stopping himself by putting his hand out in front of him.

Alright, rushing around in here's only gonna lead to me running into something and busting my face in. I gotta keep slow and stay calm.

Dave slowed himself down, trying to keep himself moving around at a more gentle pace. He heard various bangs and crashes around the building, and guessed that more people were in there. He hoped however, that it wasn't anyone that was playing right off the bat, or whatever the term for it was on the show.

"Hey!" David shouted, as he heard another crash "Anyone there?"

Dave shone his torch around the room, looking for the source of the shouting and the crashes, but he caught nothing but hundreds of his own reflection.

Halls of mirrors had always creeped Dave out as a kid, even in the daytime, so a darkened one really didn't help matters much. Neither did the fact that the door closed behind him as soon as he walked in. Dave checked that he had the pissy little kitchen knife that was his assigned weapon in the pocket of his combats, and carried on walking forwards.

Shit. I knew it was a bad idea to come in here.

Dave wandered around for a little while, trying to discern what was a reflection and where he could actually walk. It was a painful few minutes of bumping into mirrors and catching his bag on the corners of them.

"Hey?!" He repeated. Now he was further in the building, he guessed more people would hear him this time. "Anyone around here?!"

He carried on, eventually coming to some emo-looking chick, who looked like she was venting a frustration at a reflection of herself.

Dave kept his distance. She was angry, and angry definitely wasn't good, if the little SotF Dave had watched was anything to go by.

"Hey," He said, his voice much quieter now. "What're you shouting about?"
B035 - Ray Gilbert - DECEASED - Guy Fawkes Mask - Too Far Gone
G029 - Zoe Leverett - DECEASED - Machete - To Really Be Alone, To Pick At All the Bones
[18:10] <Laurels> WWJD? Fuck corpses, apparently

[15:16] <Naft> My college once nearly burned down because someone tried to make a bong out of dollar bills and the fire alarm didn't work
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Mirror Mirror · Hall of Mirrors