[That... had always been a slight concern, but...]
I'dve been alright. Honestly, mate, I've been in worse binds. The fella just had more than a few insecurities to work through. Maybe I'll return the favour one day.
You know he can get that healed here? Why hasn't he already?
[Inquires the man who remains in this world with one kidney, significantly less intestines, one good eye, and a bullet-shot jaw.]
And no, I do not mean physically. Psychologically he is... He had a restraint. He had focus, he's fraying. And he seems to blame you in part, why is that?
I'unno. [A very obvious shrug in those words. Playing dumb is far easier than exploring the reasoning of his enemies.]
Y'both think I got all the answers when I can't even remember me own name most days. Ask him yourself, doc, I thought your type was meant to be good at talkin' through unresolved issues.
Seems like. Back home it's a pissin' content he can't win. Gotta take that impotent rage out somewhere, eh? Fella just needs some tranqs in him, lot easier to be high than angry.
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And yes, I know.
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So's you know a bit of damage to me won't do much in the long run. You look at savin' your own arse, doc, mine's doin' just fine.
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Unless you're aiming to tell me that you've a new solar immunity, too.
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I'dve been alright. Honestly, mate, I've been in worse binds. The fella just had more than a few insecurities to work through. Maybe I'll return the favour one day.
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[Chilton's voice takes a commanding tone; on this side of the conversation, he's got his eyes on his switchblade. He could use his power, if need be.
Perhaps even if there needn't be.]
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It's alright, doc. I'm not the sort for conflict and torture, I'd straight up murder the dickhead if it came to it.
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He came back different. Can you tell me anything about that?
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Different? Y'mean other than the giant feckin' knob end noggin?
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[Inquires the man who remains in this world with one kidney, significantly less intestines, one good eye, and a bullet-shot jaw.]
And no, I do not mean physically. Psychologically he is... He had a restraint. He had focus, he's fraying. And he seems to blame you in part, why is that?
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Y'both think I got all the answers when I can't even remember me own name most days. Ask him yourself, doc, I thought your type was meant to be good at talkin' through unresolved issues.
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[Chilton, now overtly using Cassidy as a sounding board, felt a rush of his own pulse. Rejection, projection. Starr's sudden threadbare ego.
Interesting.]
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-- And in the meanwhile. How are you faring?
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Damn sight better than you, I reckon. He hurt you, doc?
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You really drew him away for me? I appreciate it, mate, I really do. [And he sounds genuine in that.]
You're a good bloke. Not many would stick their neck out like that.
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Aren't we?
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You spilled blood for me, that means somethin'. Or at least got a bruise. Intent's still there. [He's not exactly sure what went down, naturally.]
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I like that we're friends, Cassidy.
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