So. Despite my best efforts to sleep forever, I live. I'm mourning this turn of events more than anyone else, I'm sure. Unfortunately, due to muscular atrophy, I'm still bedridden.
Lorne, may I request another crate of your finest spirits?
Anyone else: I have a nice, limited edition Colt M1911.
Blued steel, brass accents, .45 caliber. Rather than
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But, Hagurumon says I must play the game to get out of here, so I'll play along only as much as I have to. Anything more shouldn't be expected of me. I've never had much enthusiasm for being a toy soldier.
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If you don't want to be a toy soldier, oniisan, then don't. You're a doctor, and that's plenty useful enough. Who knows, last time, it felt like our partners were doing all the physical fighting. We were just needed for the mental and emotional bits. The smartest thing to do is to play to everyone's strengths.
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... You know what, nevermind.
I'm an epidemiologist, not a general practitioner. I've never been fond of surgery and now I'm simply wasting away from sheer boredom even trying.
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And, frankly, nothing that was my support network in my world is available or attainable here.
I'll just go ahead and suffer alone. It's a new experience.
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I'm toxic, Ken. Really, you're better off enjoying your childhood while you can.
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I'm not going to give up on you.
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Apparently, sooner or later everyone leaves.
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