*Faye's voice drawls over the journals - apparently, she is far less than impressed by her predicament*
It's times like these...
...times when your crew is poisoned and scratched and bleeding and stitched up and pissed off...
It's times like these...
...times when your crew is poisoned and scratched and bleeding and stitched up and pissed off...
...times like these when you realise that a crew really needs to have some kind of healer around.
What the hell am I supposed to do with all this crap?
A nurse outfit doesn't fix everything, it turns out.
*She huffs and puffs for a moment, before that turns into a frustrated yawn - she's been busy, you know*
'The Corpse King'. What the hell kind of name is that anyway? Sounds like a dodgy horror movie.
Urgh.
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