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Trained for combat by a cabal of hacktivists.
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Dave backed off, letting the others do the shouting for him. There wasn't really that much that he could say that the others hadn't already said better than he could. He kept walking, getting back to the group and sitting down. Yawned. Tired. Charlie had just crashed down out of nowhere, and the other girl had walked over and seemingly followed. Dave figured he'd be joining them soon.

It was really getting kind of cold.

Dave unzipped his bag, pulling out a dark grey jacket which he quickly pulled on over his shirt. He looked at the girl, now asleep next to Charlie. He honestly felt sorry for her, having to put up with that shit from dickweed. He really did. God, was she cold? Everyone else was wearing at least reasonable clothing, but... she was wearing what amounted to a T-Shirt. Dave rummaged through his things, eventually pulling out a large sweater. Far too big for him. One of his brothers's, he figured, that had gotten mixed up when he was packing. He draped it over the girl, trying to avoid covering her head or waking her up. She'd thank him later when she woke up. Well, that or thrash about, scream, and kick him into next Tuesday. He wasn't all that sure, if he was honest about it.

"Right, Yeah," He said, he'd gotten a bit carried away. He looked back towards dickweed, shaking his head. "Dickwad, fuck you, the rest of us are hitting the sack."

Dave sunk his head down into his bag, ready to go to sleep, but then he remembered something. Sat back up.

"Oh, Dickwad?" Dave pointed at him."I swear to God if you steal one fucking thing from any of us I am hunting you the fuck down, okay?" He pointed towards dickwad. "Got that? Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Oh, and Izzy," Dave looked over to her. "Guess you're on first watch."

And with that, Dave closed his eyes and tried to get to sleep.


David T. Morrison was awake now; Which was to say that his eyes were open, his brain was currently functioning, and he was in control of his actions. This was paramount to his survival in this hostile environment. This hostile environment being the gigantic pirate ship suspended in the sky by a gigantic nylon fibre rope; Constructed from an amassment of many nylon fibres. David T. Morrison was the dashing rogue, here to save the day.


This wasn't good at all.

A dagger clentched betwixt his teeth, David T. Morrison swung across the pirate ship from a convieniently placed second nylon fibre rope. Juanita Bandita had Charlotte DuClare and Helen held hostage, Dave knew it. He was going to save them. He was going to save them from Juanita Bandita and her sombrero. He'd heard the stories; Forged from the distended belly of a starving hobo clown. They didn't scare him. he was still going to save them from Juanita Bandita. That was what he was going to do.

Suddenly, though, before he could reach the bandita, he was caught by a torrent of wind, a flurry enough to knock him off of his nylon fibre rope, to knock him off the side of the boat entirely.

And just like that, he was falling.

Falling fucking sucked.


Suddenly, Dave opened his eyes. Great, now he had a fucking headache to go with the rest of the shit he was putting up with. Dave looked over his bags. Shit seemed to all be there, so he assumed that was the same for the rest of their stuff. Blurry vision, couldn't see who was up yet. Dave wiped his eyes. That was better.

"Right, then." Dave shook himself awake, before cracking his knuckles individually. "Where the fuck are we headed?"

He heard the rest of them say their piece and shrugged. He was fine wherever, really. He just got to his feet, threw his bags back on, and started walking.

((Dave Morrison, continued in Faraday's Cages.))
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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Day of the Dove · The Greens