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Mr. Danya
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Vanessa barely had time to react to Nancy running off like a rocket. She was going to call out after her, but Jae scraping against her arm made Vanessa flinch back as she always did when someone touched her.

“Where the fuck is she going?” she asked out loud, but it wasn't the biggest concern on her plate right now: Jae still needed help, after all. She reached out to grab the baton, which helpfully let her avoid having to pull him up to his feet by actually holding him.

“Alvaro? That guy who’s always talking about his café?” she replied, a look of disbelief plastered on her face as she led him into the staff room where he could rest more comfortably. She had some classes with Alvaro, so she’d made some small talk with him, but on the whole he didn’t really fit into her social scene and so they’d never hung out all that much. He never struck her as the type of guy to try and re-enact that scene from that Zombie movie (whatever its name was) on his classmates, though, that much was pretty fucking certain.

Despite what she wanted to believe about Alvaro, though, Min-Jae Parker was here before her as a living, barely walking testament to his apparently rabid state. Was this really the kind of shit that Survival of the Fittest did to people? Got them so fucked up in the head that they felt the need to rip the shit out of others like a raging wolverine?

“Christ, he’s like five feet tall.”
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