"Why does it matter?" Chris scoffs as he turns away, going to the bag to start pulling out what he brought them rather than face Percy. "Maybe I'm riding around on fucking dragons. This place is bullshit, I could say any damn thing and hey, guess what it might be a fucking thing." He answers flatly, moving one of his headphones almost reluctantly off his ear so he could hear Percy's response, since he was no longer facing him. Bottles of water, canned food, packed lunches of shitty cheese and crackers, batteries- he place them down, quietly. "Or do you want an outline. Maybe I can make a pie chart of the chances I'll be confronted with utter bullshit."

"Moron. Your loss." He mutters, more to himself and still focusing on the bag. "How long has it been this time? Three days?"