"You and me both," Elvis says, exhaling heavily. Death is one thing. It's normal, natural, something that happens to everyone, albeit not always when it should. All this senseless violence, though, is another matter entirely. He doesn't understand it, he never will, how people seem to find shit like this fun. Even growing up in the middle of fucking nowhere, there was still crime, and there's been far more so in Darrow, but no more than he would have expected. Now, apparently nothing is a crime, and instead of just waiting it out the way he'd expect anyone with half a fucking brain to, people are out wreaking havoc. By the time the night's over, he has a feeling they'll have more work to do here than they know what to do with. "And the fact that it's supposed to be a tradition? Jesus."