[ she could retort — it'd be easy. ( did you kill a loved one? did your own father manipulate you into the actual task itself? christ, that's not even the tip of the fricking iceberg. ) instead, she rearranges herself in the chair, pressing her front to its back. leaning into her arms, she shakes her head lightly, expression passive, and yet, somehow comforting. ]
Tell me about it. [ with a shrug: ] Looks like there's a lot of that going around.
[ when she smirks, it affects both corners of her mouth. she leans forward on her elbows, both sets of knuckles resting under her chin. thea wrinkles her nose. ] You call 'em out?
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[ That's not fatalistic at all, Jim. ]
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[ no "there will be light"? damn, gordon. ]
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Sorry— sorry. It's been a rough year.
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Tell me about it. [ with a shrug: ] Looks like there's a lot of that going around.
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That's one way to show 'em.
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[ thea tilts her head, only slightly less than impressed. ]
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[ His hands lift, palm-flat, open. ]
First step is calling 'em out on it, s'all.
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[ when she smirks, it affects both corners of her mouth. she leans forward on her elbows, both sets of knuckles resting under her chin. thea wrinkles her nose. ] You call 'em out?