The room is still bright yellow; two of the walls have jagged black patterns, one has a random splash of black paint, and the fourth wall is blank.
The sims (all three yellow with black patterns) have been shoved up against one of the side walls, and chairs (
more comfortable than last time) have been set out haphazardly in the middle of the room
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Pause.
"An' I mean questions, not general sort of abuse."
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Then says, seriously, "The last one had a lot more pastry throwing."
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All he's thrown this time is a pen.
He even broke up a fight!
He's been mature. Acting positively twelve, at least.
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"Also, if you want to make it official, you'll have to fill out the appropriate forms."
Snerk.
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He shrugs helplessly. "But then you said forms, which implies paperwork. And if we actually have to work to overthrow Wes, 's probably not worth the effort."
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"There's whiskey," Wes says, pointing to the sim beside him.
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"Corellian?" He eyes Wes.
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"Whyren's."
Duh.
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