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Thread: Last Resort

  1. #41
    She didn't know what to say. Her mind was still spinning over the fact that Tom had apparently ordered something so girlie and why would he bother, he never ordered that kind of drink, that was her thing and... and... oooohhhh. It was something Alice never thought she'd get used to. Tom sometimes just did things that she couldn't make sense of until she thought about it and realized it tied back to her. It was always the kind of thing that was sweet to the point where it made her uncomfortable because she just didn't think she was worth that sort of thing. He'd probably never fully realize how much she appreciated it all, mostly because she never seemed to be able to find words that expressed it. Most of the times she would just kinda stare at him with a stupid smile of her face before suddenly hugging him and then realizing she was touching him and suddenly feel flustered to an obscene degree. She couldn't exactly do that right at the moment.

    Thankfully he had derailed her little what do I do train with his question. She'd expected that one to come around at some point. It helped.

    "I... guess?" She shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I don't really have anything to compare it to so I suppose it was good. I kinda just was dragged around by Kat and Diana - she was this woman we met there, really nice... I think she's still hanging out with your sister right now, actually. Probably a good thing. I feel bad kinda leaving her by herself and..."

    The words had been coming out fast, too fast. Another small laugh left her before she bit her lower lip and found a hand running through the curls that her hair had been forced to take on. "Thanks, by the way. It was really sweet of you to fund that whole thing. This too. I always feel like you spoil me."

    Her eyes suddenly widened as she realized what her brain had just let spill out of her mouth before she could stop it. "I mean that in a good way. I just... yeah... thanks."

  2. #42
    TheHolo.Net Poster
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    It was like a contest: which one of them could make themselves feel more embarrassed and awkward than the other. Alice seemed to be doing pretty well, but then she'd busted out the thank yous, and for Tom's level of discomfort that was like tossing gas on a barbeque. Why was she thanking him for an unstoppable compulsion that he felt guilty for having? Why was she the one being grateful, when everything he did was to make up for how disproportionately lucky he felt? It was like some elaborate, self-perpetuating feedback loop. He felt guilty that she felt guilty, and it spiralled on and on.

    He had to grip hold of his pants leg to stop the urge to reach out across the table and hold her hand. He fought the urge to laugh at how backwards she had everything; to unleash some torrent of confessions about him, and her, and his past, and oh so many things that he wasn't sure he was ready for her to know, and was damn sure she wasn't ready to hear. The guilt of it all coiled up around his heart like sea serpents attacking sailors, and he badly wished a waiter would show up so he could order a drink to calm himself.

    "You don't need to thank me," he countered, his voice sounding strange and sheepish. "Not now, not ever. Maybe I do spoil you, but it's only because I -"

    Something from the back of his mind leapt forward, rugby tackling control of his vocal chords away from the part of his brain that absolutely, categorically should not be allowed to finish that sentence, for fear of uttering things that he absolutely should not be saying. Not saying it felt like a lie; but saying it and watching Alice run for the hills seemed like an even worse plan.

    "I feel lucky that you're part of my life. Lucky that I've got you around to give me a reason to smile every day." That wasn't a great alternative angle to go with, but at least it was an alternative of a sort. His mouth twitched into a smile that was too embarrassed to stick around. "I guess I'm trying to return the favour for as long as I can, before karma comes to it's senses and realises I don't deserve you after all."

  3. #43
    Hearing him say things that were being thought in her head was like some sort of bad telepathy mishap. Everything she wanted to say was on the tip of her tongue but somewhere between brain and mouth it got jumbled up like a fat kid getting stuck in a water slide in some horrible cartoon that caused everything else to get stuck behind it. And with that came the distinct sensation of unease that was growing worse and worse and... Calm down, Alice. Before the both of you start glowing or some shit. The words punched a hole into everything. There it was then. Calm down for both of their sakes before she did it again. Before someone got hurt because she couldn't control herself. Why was it always so damn easy to do at home and yet here in public...? It wasn't like home wasn't sitting right across from her or anything.

    It was that particular thought that somehow, despite everything, made her feel the sudden tenseness evaporate and finally let her take a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

    "You know I feel the same way..." She tried her best to make the smile that was forming look playful rather than the sheepish one that she could just tell was fighting for it's right to be there.

    It was a poor attempt at lightening the mood, but really she wasn't exactly lying. They'd both danced around the subject a ton of times before one day there had been a series of 'You know I like you, right?' that got things into the air but even then the words had been all wrong and while they both knew the other felt something towards the other it was hard to say exactly just how far the feeling went. There was being attracted to someone and then there was being attracted to someone.

  4. #44
    TheHolo.Net Poster
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    Do you, though? Do you feel the same?

    Those thoughts floated across his mind, and Tom found himself feeling like Lois Lane, desperately hoping that the subject of his affections could read his mind and spare him the insurmountable challenge of translating the way he felt into clunky, inaccurate, insufficient words. That would make everything so much easier: if Alice somehow took the thoughts straight out of his head, it wouldn't be his fault if everything fell apart, because at least he wouldn't have made a decision that turned out to be the wrong one. At least he wouldn't have actively screwed things up.

    But that wasn't just the easy way: that was the coward's way. That was right up there with asking a friend to find out if the girl you liked was single, just because you were too nervous to be able to bring it up in conversation and find out for yourself. That was like breaking out the old I have a friend who really likes this girl routine. Not that Tom had ever, or would ever resort to such spineless and subversive tactics -

    "There's something I need to tell you," he found himself saying. Red alert klaxons began to sound as part of his brain went rogue, seizing control of his mouth before anyone else could intervene. "Because not saying it is driving me crazy, and it feels like I'm -"

  5. #45
    "Tom?"

    Truth be told, Solomon was a little buzzed. Not drunk, or anything - hell, he wasn't a pansy-ass lightweight by any stretch - but he'd consumed enough alcohol to at least notice the fact that it was in his bloodstream. It was the bar's fault, mostly: grim as their beer selection had been, at least what they offered came in bottle form, and that made it fantastically portable. Thus, Solomon had been spending as much time as was humanly possible wandering around the resort with a bottle in his hand; and due to the fact that being at a resort didn't technically count as public intoxication in this fine state, he was having a huge amount of fun irritating the staff and other guests. He'd turned it into a game: right now at least seven separate families had shot him disapproving scornful looks, and two had even ushered their children away so they wouldn't see him.

    Okay, so maybe the peeing into a bush had been something to do with that too.

    Still, the important part was that he was plenty sober; or at least, sober enough to do what he needed to do. And right now, what he needed to do was walk over to Tom drawing as much attention to himself as possible, so that the Australi-, Brit-, whatever guy would feel compelled to do whatever was necessary to prevent him from making a scene.

    Definitely British,Solomon decided, not entirely sure whether he'd remembered that from earlier, or if he was just being uncharacteristically perceptive. Those guys are really uptight about this sort of thing.

    "Hey, man," he said a little too loudly, with a painfully enthusiastic grin. "So this is where you slunk off too, huh? Kinda thought you might have hit up the driving range to make yourself suck a little less before our rematch."

    Very sure of himself, and swaying in an ever so slightly unnerving fashion, Solomon turned his attention to Tom's dinner date. "And you -" he said, pointing with his bottle-holding hand before hesitating to down another swig, "You must be Alice."

    He leaned forward and down a little, drawing himself as close to Alice's face as he could manage - too close for comfort, but far enough away to avoid accidentally headbutting her. He squinted as he regarded her eyes, and then recoiled a little bit in surprise. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, "They really do kinda like topaz."

    More beer was consumed; Solomon closed his eyes for a moment but instantly regretted it as his balance was momentarily compromised. He persisted, draining the last of his bottle, before setting it down on the table with a clunk. "This guy," he spoke again, ever so slightly slurred, "Would not shut up about you earlier. Dunno how you did it, but you must have his balls locked up tight in that purse of yours; couldn't go three sentences without finding a way to bring it back to you."

  6. #46
    She'd been on the edge of her seat, leaning forward, trying to not look expectant as Tom started talking, began saying something she might have only ever whispered to herself... but it had been interrupted. For ever bit she had withdrawn from herself, for every bit that she might have been considered normal.... Everything slammed shut. She felt like a hermit crab that had been poked at with a stick, suddenly wanting nothing more than to hide within its shell and maybe wave something - a fork looked like a good option - threateningly until the menace went away.

    But he wasn't going away. In fact he just kept going. How Tom had apparently manged to stand this guy for an afternoon was beyond her. Maybe it was just the beer... she'd known her share of guys in College who seemed nice until they started drinking. Why am I trying to stand up for this guy? "Uhm..." What did you say to something like that? Nothing. That's what.

    Her eyes fell to the side. It was just like earlier when someone had inserted themselves suddenly into her life today but so much worse.

  7. #47
    "Uhm, huh?"

    Solomon let out a noiseless chuckle.

    "A beautiful dame like you needs to be a little better at accepting compliments, blondie."

    Hands now empty, he wiped his condensation-moist palms on the front of his shirt, and cast his eyes around him, surveying his surroundings. His eyes settled on an unoccupied chair at a vacant table, and he snagged it; dragging it up to Tom and Alice's table, he mounted it backwards, arms propped up on the seat back. Now more comfortable, his eyes looked her up and down critically.

    "Especially if you're gonna be wearing a dress like that. Because damn. I don't think even my sister could pull off a dress like that, and she's got some crazy goddess curves going on."

    He frowned for a second. "Speaking of which -"

    In an instant, Solomon was back on his feet, peering out across the restaurant like a meerkat. His eyes settled on his sister, hovering by the bar. "Hey!" he yelled, way too loud for anyone's tolerance levels. A shrill whistle followed it, finally managing to snag her attention. He brandished his empty beer bottle in her direction, then gesticulated wildly towards the table he had now commandeered. She rolled her eyes, which Sol took to be a universal indication of her surrender and compliance. A self-satisfied smile formed on his features, and he settled back down onto the chair.

    "She's on her way over," he announced proudly, as if he'd just complied with some highly complicated unspoken request from his now-companions. He flashed a broad grin in Alice's direction. "Maybe you can give her some fashion tips, huh?"

  8. #48
    Oh for the love of... The cute guy she'd been chatting with had just been about to offer to buy her a drink but now he was recoiling away from her as if she'd suddenly announced she was a man. Thanks Sol. Thanks a bunch. She couldn't figure out what on earth could possibly so important that he was blocking her from the male experience once more... and then she saw who he had seated himself with. The guy wasn't recognizable except for the description she had pried for earlier... but the girl with him? Oh dear...

    She put on her best not pleased face and sauntered over to the table. "Solomon... I see you've met Alice." An apologetic smile was offered. "And you must be Tom."

    "I'm sorry, it seems my brother has had a bit too much to drink. Sol, why don't you and I go back to the bar and let these two enjoy their special dinner together." The last words were emphasized through gritted teeth as she kept up the fake smile.

  9. #49
    "Special dinner?" Sol echoed, finding it not particularly difficult to muster a look of confusion.

    His eyes widened as he plucked an arbitrary guess out of mid-air. "Oh man, Tom -" He flashed a grin. "Are you gonna propose? Is that why you were in such a tizzy earlier on?"

    He leaned back in his chair, throwing a smug little look about his powers of deduction towards Diana. "Congratulations, man. That's -"

    He interrupted himself, finally paying enough attention to his surroundings to notice the expression of abject terror that had formed on Tom's features. His grin fell into another slack-jawed look of confusion. "This isn't a proposal dinner?"

    Tom slowly shook his head.

    Sol arched an eyebrow. "This is just a, what, regular date?" Scepticism and disapproval took full control of his features and vocal chords. "Hell with that," he grunted. "You can do boring regular dates on your own damn time." His nose curled a little as he glanced at their surroundings. "And time when you put a little bit more damn effort into picking the venue. Bonus romance points for the spa weekend and everything, but a crappy little dinner for two like this?" He sucked a hissing breath through his teeth. "You're jeopardising your bedroom privileges with rookie shit like that, if you ask me."

    He shook his head a little in the kind of mild disapproval you'd expect to see on a little league baseball coach when his army of teeny tiny midget players didn't play so great, but you didn't want them to feel too bad. Eager to change the subject for the benefit of Tom, who clearly needed as much help as he could get if he was going to stand a chance of driving down the fairway to sink it in the eighteenth hole tonight - or at least get a shot at putting about on the green - he turned his attention to Diana, who was standing around like some sort of disapproving mom.

    "This is a vacation, and vacations are meant to be fun. Four is a way better number for that than two -" He hesitated just long enough to shoot a sly wink at Alice to emphasise his innuendo. "- so how about Di and I keep you company, huh? We'll get some food, some drinks, get to know each other better, and it'll stop that damn perv at the bar from non-stop trying to get in my sister's pants. Because damn, that guy needs to back off."

    Thoughts of beer once again in his mind, he looked at Diana expectantly, and then with disappointment. "Where's my beer?" he asked, with a sheepish voice that might have sounded better coming out of a twelve-year-old. "I gave you the -" He gestured in the air with his empty hand the way he had with the beer bottle moments before. "- grab me a beer would you, thanks toots signal. Did you not...?"

    His face fell in childish disappointment. "I fetch you stuff all the time," he muttered under his breath. "But I guess you're just too busy slutting it up for every guy in a five mile radius to ever return the favour."

  10. #50
    It was a funny thing. There was really never a period of time that Diana could remember in her life that Sol wasn't there. You would think after having your twin's biting commentary coloring your life since he learned to speak would grant some sort of immunity. Fact was, Diana didn't have to fake the sudden shocked and hurt look that suddenly caught her. It only showed for a second, and damn right she thanked her lucky damn stars that Sol wasn't exactly facing her at that moment. Ass.

    "They have girls who get paid for that sort of thing around here, dear brother. I'm sure you're well acquainted."

    Another chair was snagged from the empty table and set down. She obviously wasn't going to be able to drag Solomon away from this so that meant damage control was the new objective. Maybe.

  11. #51
    "The waitresses?" Sol inferred, with a heavy frown.

    He shook his head. "Nah, this place is scraping the bottle of the barrel on that front. Nothing to get 'acquainted' with."

    Diana was clearly annoyed, and on some level that pleased him: not in an I hate you, I want you to feel bad sort of way; more I don't get to win very often, so I'm going to make the most of it while I can. It was a big, persistent problem in Sol's life, and always had been: when they'd been handing out roles in their little twin dynamic, Diana had managed to snag both brains and brawn, which pretty much relegated Sol to being the pretty, witty one. He didn't mind it necessarily: he got the girls, and got to throw in one liners that would put James Bond to shame with alarming frequency. However, there were times when he wanted to be the one scoring the points, rather than just being the plucky sidekick.

    Which usually meant he had to jam his fingers into every button and every raw nerve his sister had.

    "The women hanging out at the spa, on the other hand?" Sol let out a low whistle. "There's this girl I saw in there earlier; bit shy, bit timid, got that kinda hair that's somewhere between dirty blonde and brunette. Nowhere near as hot as Alice here -" He flashed her a quick wink. "- but she has that look of the inexperienced little post-teen who still needs a little breaking in, if y'know what I'm saying."

  12. #52
    TheHolo.Net Poster
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    Tom was aware of the playful elbow to the ribs that Solomon used to emphasise his innuendo, but he was a little too busy stopping his fist from flying out from beneath the table and connecting with Solomon's jaw to really feel it.

    "I'm not sure I do -" Tom's voice came through gritted teeth, forced to stare at the table for a moment or two to gather his calm before he could look at Solomon's smug featured again without breaking them. His voice had a dark edge and a snarl to it, like a muzzled dog that couldn't make more noise even if it wanted to. "- because it seems like you're sitting at a table with two women, one of whom is your sister and the other I'm on love with, and yet the only stuff coming out of your mouth is a bunch of lecherous, chauvinist bullshit."

    He tried to unfurl his fist; failed. He stared dead into Solomon's eyes.

    "I think you want to leave this room. Now."

  13. #53
    Well, well, well; seemed like the Doctor had some claws after all. Or at least, he had a bark on him, talking all big and macho in front of his lady. Solomon could respect that; hell, under other circumstances he'd probably do the man a solid and prop it up. But, any action taken to reinforce Tom's masculinity meant sacrificing some of his own, and that sure as hell wasn't going to happen.

    "Oh, Tommy," Solomon chuckled dismissively, shaking his head and fiddling absently with the beer bottle. "Tryin' to talk big in front of your lady, huh? Tryin' to get her going already to save you some prep work back in your room? I get that." He mustered his most smug, taunting expression. "But you think I should leave?"

    Suddenly his expression fell slack, throwing back as much menace as Tom had mustered, and more. "That's big talk, Tommy boy. Now I kinda want you to try and make me."

  14. #54
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    Tom didn't need asking twice. The left hook connected with Solomon's face before he'd even made it all the way to standing; but it wasn't the upward motion or the impact of his knuckles that did the damage. Before, Tom's powers had always been a mix of focus and instinct: it had taken effort to hone it into something that he could do by reflex without conscious effort. Not today, though: as his fist met with the skin of Solomon's jaw, a pressure wave of potential inertia slammed into his head like freight train, not just knocking Solomon clean off the seat that he'd stupidly sat on backwards, but clean across half the room as well, sent crashing into the table from which he'd commandeered his chair.

    The normally passive and under control man stood over him, knuckles bone-white, clenched jaw quivering with anger and adrenaline.

    "Tha' enough?" Tom growled, his Scottish accent snarling out from beneath his words even more than usual. "Or am I gonna have tae pick you up and toss y' outta the doors m'self?"

  15. #55
    Solomon let out another deep chuckle, grinning like a fool as he prodded the coppery-tasting split in his lip with the tip of his tongue, and then wiped away the trickle of blood with the back of his hand.

    "Quite a swing you've got there," he admitted, his voice far more upbeat than it should have been, given his circumstances. Truth be told, he was a little surprised by just how hard the mild-mannered scientist could actually swing a punch; but as far as provoking a mutant-fuelled overreaction, Solomon had the smug satisfaction of knowing he'd succeeded in what he was trying to do.

    "In my experience though," he continued, making no effort to stand up from the surprisingly comfortable half-collapsed table that was currently propping him up, "There's only one reason a guy gets that mad that quick -"

    He turned his attention to Alice. "What's the matter, toots? You not putting out enough for your man here? He seems mighty -" He paused for effect. "- frustrated."

  16. #56
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    Something snapped. It was like whatever dam or barricade kept Tom under control suddenly shattered, and a raging torrent stormed it's way out. He pushed, not with his body but with his mind, all the force that usually lasted a few fractions of a second to add a little extra punch to his punches, his arrows, and things he threw all cascading from his outstretched hand towards Solomon's body, crushing down on his lungs and pinning him to the tabletop.

    "You need t' stop talking, and listen," he snarled. His voice wasn't just angry any more: it had transcended beyond that into something different.

    "Alice Kelly is not my woman, and I am not her man. She is not some object that you can just lech over like some broken record social throwback still clinging to ideas that stopped being acceptable decades ago." His hand trembled, teeth ground, lungs struggled for each breath; though not as badly as Solomon's would have to, underneath the force equivalent of an overweight Glaswegian sitting on his chest. "She is the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful, perfect person in all the world, and if you ever so much as utter a single word to her again -"

    The pressure increased; the table beneath Solomon groaned and splintered, unable to withstand Tom's assault. Ice flowed through the scientists words.

    "- I will break you."

  17. #57
    "STOP IT!"

    It had all been happening too fast and she had been looking down at her hands for most of it but Alice had caught every single word spoken despite trying to ignore it all. She'd tried to pretend that maybe this was just some sort of bad dream or a joke that Tom and his new friend were playing, even if it wasn't very funny and he never really had done anything like that before and it wasn't right and he wouldn't be that cruel... And she had felt like things were spinning out of control, not just near her but within her. And then it just...snapped.

    She hadn't even realized she had been stood up until her hands slammed down on the table and she had finally spoken, well more of really yelled, out. Her voice hadn't been the only thing to escape, she could feel it lingering in the air, the crackle of every cellphone in the restaurant that had been busy filming the scuffle suddenly blinking out, the varnish on the table cracking and peeling away from her fingertips, the fact the glass of water that had been waiting for her to drink had begun to steam slightly.

    Panic set in coupled with the disorder created by the two men. Alice felt everything retreating, the outburst subsiding and it left her fully aware of just how exposed they all were, how every eye had turned to them all and were now lingering on her. She tried to force words to form but all that happened when she opened her mouth to speak was a sharp intake of air that caught in her chest. Her head managed just the smallest of shakes before she spun away and made a rather hasty retreat from the entire scene. She needed to clear her head, needed to collect her thoughts, but more than anything else she just needed to get away, to figure out if the time to run had finally reared it's ugly head once more.

  18. #58
    TheHolo.Net Poster
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    Stop it.

    The words smashed against his chest like a hammer, and a sudden wave of realisation washed over him. He felt disconnected: saw what his powers were doing from outside himself, without having to feel the insatiable anger that had fuelled it. Horror swept across him and his conviction faltered; his powers followed suit, and Solomon managed to wrestle a sudden wheeze into his lungs.

    Tom felt every eye in the room watching him; felt the judgement not only of the genetics he had inadvertently revealed, but also of the way he had chosen to use them. But that paled in comparison to the sense of judgement he rested on his own shoulders, and the shame that gilded it. When he was young, he'd been a hothead; and along with that, his temper had run pretty close to the surface, very little needed to make it leak out. Then he had come when he'd met his perfect nemesis, the one person who could without fail make him erupt with just a few well-chosen words; after them, no other source of irritation came close. His volcano went dormant, and the little things didn't seem to bother him any more; the worst he'd ever been since then was annoyed, the volcano blowing off the occasional puff of steam.

    Solomon was the first person in nearly a decade to provoke him to genuine anger, and that terrified Tom: not because of what he'd done, but because of why it had happened.

    Alice.

    It wasn't anything she'd done, of course: it was all on him. He'd opened his heart, self, and soul to her; but that made him vulnerable, and that was what Solomon had managed to exploit. His reaction to it hadn't been that of a rational human being: he'd fallen back on the one instinct that was always there for him. He'd pushed it away - pushed everything away, literally and figuratively. He didn't protect his emotions with a shield or a guardian: he protected them with a goalkeeper, only really capable of deflecting problems away with equal force. Unfortunately, that keeper was indiscriminate; it kept everything out, no matter what Tom wanted.

    Alice.

    He thought about going after her, thought about chasing her through the corridors; but why? For what purpose? To say he was sorry? To explain himself? To offer some kind of justification for his actions? Maybe she'd forgive him, and that would be worse; because she shouldn't. Away from him was the smartest place for her to be; in the short term for definite, and maybe beyond that.

    He reached for the table behind him, grabbing his napkin and tossing it at Solomon; tossing in the towel, or offering a white flag of surrender, he supposed.

    "Clean yourself up," he grunted, and without another word and his eyes down-turned, made his slow and solitary way back to his room.

  19. #59
    At any point she could have stopped it, she supposed. In truth she had been made more than just a little uncomfortable when Tom had decided to try and crush the life out of her twin. Thankfully the shy violet had managed to speak up and put an end to it. Shame it all had to end with the couple storming off leaving her to deal with Sol. A loud sigh left her as Diana finally got to her feet and walked over to where Solomon was slowly getting back to his feet.

    "You look good in red." The chill in her voice somehow had managed to creep all the way into her eyes as she regarded him.

    The same gaze was passed over the rest of the restaurant before she shook her head. "If you're done making an ass out of yourself, let's make tracks before we're asked to pay for this shit."

    It wasn't quite the dramatic exit the other two had done, but Diana was done with this scene and if Solomon knew what was good for him he'd follow her as she walked out.

  20. #60
    Solomon forced out a grunt, his lungs still not entirely happy about the unfair demands that he was making for them to, you know, breathe occasionally.

    He winced, not entirely sure if the pain in his side as he stood was just bruising, or the protestations of a fractured rib. "Don't help me up or anything," he muttered, mostly to himself, heaving against a mostly still intact chair to clamber awkwardly to his feet. He caught a few looks in his direction, and while ordinarily he was relatively fond of being the centre of attention, this wasn't particularly his preference.

    Something about the stares just didn't sit right. "Oh, don't worry folks," he uttered angrily. "No need to get off your asses and call an ambulance, offer first aid, or anything like that: I'm sure I'm perfectly fine."

    He shook his head, still muttering to himself as he fell into step behind Diana. "Mundanes, man," he muttered. "Would it kill them to actually give a damn for a change?"

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