[ Ladon has returned from his week-long comatose state, but he's looking more like he spent the past week in some place much less pleasant than bed. In fact, he looks like he hasn't slept at all in a few days-- he's drawn out, pale, with dark circles under his eyes. His hands shake a little as he lifts a cigarette to his lips. He's still sitting in
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Welcome back. Um, things have been...quiet, for the most part.
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No one's runnin' 'round all goofed up on love spells? Good.
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Yeah? I needa go teach that one-eyed sonuvabitch a lesson?
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OhmyGod WHY DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT.
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Weren't exactly bein' all on the low 'bout it, kid. Saw you two while I was out havin' a smoke.
Didn't try anythin' you didn't want him tryin', did he?
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U-Um...how to put this...
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[ Because fellas are always the ones at fault, and dames are always the victims, and if a fella knows a dame who's got trouble with a fella, it's his responsibility to do something.
Or something. ]
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It wasn't his fault; he didn't do anything or f-force me to...
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