[hr][hr][center][h1][color=ff6600]Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway[/color][/h1][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/24549866ed143be11dbfc570a7ff8e12/tumblr_inline_nl7kc4WNy21rpdlxb.gif[/img][hr]Location: Haunted House[/center][hr][hr]Tuesday wasn't [i]entirely[/i] stupid. She knew that her words were going to piss Chris off. And she understood the likelihood that it would all end in her death. But hey, being irritating to people who had been relatively nice to her a few moments before seemed to be a talent of hers. If there was a market for it, she wouldn't need to be in the drug business at all. She'd be rich. 

[color=ff6600]"You can't even aim properly,"[/color] Tuesday added, feeling relieved as the shot swung away from her. The second gunshot sent Chris to the ground, and from the sounds of it, Marc as well. Chris screamed and writhed on the floor, and Tuesday glanced over at Riley, spotting the gun at her feet. Her sister wasn't a murderer, she shouldn't have to pull the trigger, but it looked like she'd have to. No one else there had any medical knowledge. And from what Tuesday could tell, Marc was bleeding out. 

[color=ff6600]"Shoot the asshat!"[/color] Tuesday screamed, hoping her sister would be alright, as she dashed over to Marc. She wasn't able to see if the man was breathing, but the sickening substance on the floor didn't bode well for his health. She kneeled down next to him, grimacing for a moment. [color=ff6600]"Marc, can you hear me? Marc?"[/color]

Tuesday felt with her hands carefully for any wounds. If she found the source of the likely bleeding, she would immediately begin to put pressure on it. And if Marc was unresponsive, or responded but had difficulty breathing, she would then begin CPR simultaneously to the best of her ability. 

[color=ff6600]"Stay with me, asshat,"[/color] Tuesday would mutter as she worked. [color=ff6600]"Who else is gonna visit me in isolation, huh?"[/color]