Asher made his way through the halls taking his time to see who was around. He had his hands shoved in his pockets his book tucked under his arm. This place always felt cold no matter how many layers he had on. It was one of the main reasons he didn't get out of his room too much. He made his way toward the mess hall figuring he'd get something to
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Once the cool was pressing to her temples, she took a minute to look around. Fairly quiet for the mess hall. And there was the gunsman that she hadn't spoken to yet. She couldn't even pick his name from the air right then.
This headache was killing her patience.
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"Are you always so quiet?"
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His mind was easily accessible if she cared to look. Though the farther back his memories went the fuzzier they became. The only really clear details made it clear he was much older than he looked.
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"Well that's interesting," and she was only half talking about what he said.
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"I'm Emma, you're Asher, right?" She'd found the name in his memories, it was what he was being called now, that much she knew, it wasn't his name though.
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