"That's cool, I guess. Being a nerd." Howard manages to get the coin machine open, and the front glass pane swings out. All those gears and metal rods and strange pieces are his for the taking. He looks over his trove of materials, pulling a battered, orange lucky rabbit's foot out of his jeans pocket and rubbing it between his fingers on his good hand. After a moment of deliberation, he reaches in and takes a metal piece that has a sharp enough part to be used as a shiv.

"I guess those sorts of classifications don't matter now, do they? I mean, nerds, jocks, geeks. It's all kind of in the past." In the FAYZ, kids still grouped with the friends they had before, but that was less about cliques and more about clinging to the last shreds of normalcy and familiarity they still had. "I mean, we're all in the murdergames together."

He picks up a few other pieces and tucks them into his lunchbox before limping his way over to Tim and the cable. "What you got there?"