"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
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((Dave Morrison, continued from Break Up and Break Down))

Dave was starting to get tired now. He'd spent the whole fucking day so far on his feet, and frankly, he was pretty fucking sick of walking and the pain in his legs told him they were too. To his credit, Dave managed to walk a fair distance from the fair before he finally slipped up. Dave stumbled, Not enough to make him fall over, but enough to make him a little worried. It was at this time that he remembered that in the space of a day He'd been thrown into a mirror, gotten his nose busted, and tackled someone twice his size onto the concrete. He was running on adrenaline at the time, not really feeling anything. Now he was feeling it. And it hurt like a motherfucker.

"Hey, Hold on a second, I need to do something about my fucking knees."

Dave wouldn't admit it to the girl, but he was pretty beaten up. His nose had stopped bleeding a while back, but that was the least of his problems. He was starting to regret tackling a guy onto some concrete, but whatever. Dave sat down, pulling the leg of his pants up. His knee had a pretty big gash on it. No wonder it was fucking stinging. Dave took his pack, pulling out his first aid kit. Dave was never really into biology or any of that shit, but he took enough tackles on the field to know how to patch himself up afterwards. The kit was better stocked than he'd expected, too. Unlike the school's patented 'Best Before December 3rd 1973' kits.

He took a small spray-bottle of disinfectant and sprayed it on his knee. It stung like a bitch, but Dave figured it was best to do at least something about it. Dave quickly took a gauze pad and a roll of tape, setting about covering the cut. He pulled up the other pant leg and quickly set about doing the same to the cut he'd managed to get on that leg, before packing the kit up and sticking it back in his pack.

He looked up to the Mexican girl. She'd spent most of the way in complete fucking silence, and quite frankly it was starting to creep Dave the hell out. Even something in Spanish would've been better. He wouldn't have understood a fucking word of it, but at least it wasn't dead silence. He didn't even know her name yet, for chrissakes.

"Oh, by the way, what's your name?" He slung the pack on his back and got to his feet. "I'm Dave, by the way. Dave fucking Morrison."
V5:
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
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[18:10] <Laurels> WWJD? Fuck corpses, apparently

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[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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Time Is Not On Our Side · The Woods: Coastal