"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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((Really sorry for the delay.))

Frankie kept ranting. She didn't know why, really. It was more venting than anything. Venting her frustrations about anything and everything at the tiny Asian girl quivering and sobbing on the floor beneath her.

She heard voices again, getting louder, a crescendo of the dumbasses trying to coming to take the crying bitch's side. Fucking called it. The bitch turned on the waterworks and suddenly every retard in tin-foil wanting to be the knight in shining armor was coming out of the shadows. Great, she recognised half these fuckers, too. There was Feo, rivalled only by Jen R. in the "biggest slut in school who wasn't related to her" runnings, that punk girl's bitch who's name Frankie couldn't be fucked to remember and Ethan, that huge dickwad.

Then came the second shove of the day. Frankie managed to stay on her feet this time, although it took more effort than she'd care to admit in a hurry. Frankie steadied herself, before turning around and seeing just who the fuck she had to blame for that shit. Wait, fuck, was that...?

Great, Liz fucking Polanski, Just who she fucking needed right now. Covered in... oh fuck, was that blood? Was she covered in fucking blood? Oh shit, she was.

Right. Covered in blood. Frankie bet she'd just come off of some grizzly fucking massacre or some shit. She wouldn't have put it past Liz. Yeah, Right. Fuck that. Frankie didn't want to go anywhere near that shit in a hurry. Instead, she just left her to it and backed the fuck off. Hold up, someone just said her name. Frankie turned her head. Oh, right. Feo.

Frankie glanced back over, instead of murdering the asian girl, Liz seemed to be whispering sweet nothings in her ear while that punk girl's bitch fantasised over them, or something like that. Far cry from the bloody murder she was expecting, but fuck it. Whatever got their rocks off.

Feo, half naked as usual, said some shit about them all being fucked. From the state of her at that point, she probably meant that literally, but for Frankie, just served to shove her just that little bit further over the edge. Fuck this. Fuck this hard.

"Oh, I'm fine, Fee. Top of the fucking world right now." She looked Feo up and down as she moved to swipe the oar the crying bitch was holding. She was covered in fucking burns, for Christ's sake. She looked like she'd been fucking blown up and she was still flaunting her fucking goods to the world. Whatever. Her funeral if she wanted to get hypothermia or any of that good shit.

"Wait, you all look pretty fucking messed up. The fuck happened to you? Some asshole drop a nuke on you this morning?"

Frankie squirmed, pulling the straps of her bag further up her shoulder before they slipped off. She had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer at all.
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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Quote:
 
[18:10] <Laurels> WWJD? Fuck corpses, apparently

Quote:
 
[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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