There was a time when being privileged was something worthy, an aspect that would make most green with envy. It was nice, going to the best schools and never going hungry. But that all seemed pointless now. Money doesn't give you skills, it doesn't teach you how to survive. No, if anything, it does exactly the opposite.<br/><br/>And this was something Blue learned the hard way. The blonde was surprised she'd made it this far without dying of starvation, or thirst, or.. just from being a slave to those creatures that had taken over Eden so long ago. Luckily some people were willing to help out a pretty face.<br/><br/>"Hey, you know you should have safety on that when you're not using it, right?" A man called from behind a make-shift counter, filled with techy bits and pieces that Blue thought all looked like scrap.<br/><br/>"What?" She asked, wearing her permanent scowl, her dark brows knitted together in frustration. Eugh, who was this guy anyway?<br/><br/>"Your gun." He clarified, moving around the counter and taking the pistol off of her, clicking it and handing it back. "Safety. So you don't accidentally shoot one-of-us whilst you're swinging it around." He snorted, returning to his post and busying himself with a survivor who was fiddling with one of the parts.<br/><br/>Blue looked down at her gun, noticing what the brute of a man was talking about. Huh, that was new. She shrugged it off, returning to her idle fiddling and staring up at the ceiling. She was<span style="font-style: italic">bored.</span>