Curate, connect, and discover
@33occupant: that looks like it hurts.
Something in the Courier beats with a ferocity: it's not her heart, long gone and replaced with something much more sinister. It's her spite; gnashing, gnawing, and ever knowing. Your face does the thinking - two the skull, yet one gets up. Two to the skull... she thinks. If you can survive two bullets to the head, what's a few cuts and bruises?
"You're very sweet, but I'm very fine." There's a pause. Leather-clad hand wipes the blood that adorns her suntanned face. Her riot mask remains off while she catches her breathe. "It's just a scratch."