[So, here's Sol, fresh out of the Labyrinth. Physically, she looks perfectly fine. Her expression, on the other hand, is a mixture of distress and rage, and her hands at her sides are balled into fists and trembling. Clearly, she ran into something there that has left her more than a little shaken
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Excuse me, I don't mean to pry, but... are you alright?
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Just fine.
[It's obvious that's a lie from the slight quiver in her voice, but that's the answer she'll be sticking with.]
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Do you lke ice cream?
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[That was not what she had been expecting at all.]
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...We have it. It's not bad, I guess.
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Oh, good. You look like the type who could use some right about now. Just one of those days, you know? I have this friend at home, Cuba, and whenever she looks like she wants to punch something we just haul out the ice cream and try to ignore the fact that everything sucks. It tends to work, if only for a little while.
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...Not really a sweets person.
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Not pudding, then, either.
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Never been one for comfort food.
[She's always dealt with her frustration by doing something physical, like...well, hitting things.]
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Otherwise, I'd offer to spar with you, but... Recent events have made me even less into fighting than usual. [Which, considering she just worked her ass off a few years ago, in her timeline, to establish UN Peacekeeping? Is saying a lot. She generally detests fighting as it is.]
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You don't look like much of a fighter.
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But that's more formal military. [Shrugs, burrowing a bit deeper in the fur of the bear she's cuddled against.] It's been a bit since I did much hand to hand, but I've rough-housed around enough in my day.
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You a military leader?
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