The star opens her eyes.
Okay, so that's not precisely true.
To be entirely honest, the star does not so much open her eyes as flutter them in a rather useless manner. Though, really, she has aspirations of opening them, so it really should count
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He doesn't make a sound or any sort of movement.
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Which - yeah. They could totally use an Alberic right about now.
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"Buzzkill," she murmurs affectionately, pressing her shoulders back against his firmly and scanning the small room with a great deal more focus and attention.
There are crates stacked along one wall - some open, scattered messily - and there's a door over to her right, heavy-looking and most likely bolted from the outside.
"What do you suppose the chances are that something doesn't want to eat us this time?"
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He wriggles in his spot, trying to work the ropes loose and failing rather miserably. They rub at his wrists in the worst ways, cutting at his skin.
He sighs.
"We do seem to attract quite a bit of luck when it comes to things trying to eat us."
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She huffs out a displeased puff of hair, blowing her hair away from where it has fallen into her eyes.
"Because I do believe that we are getting a rather entirely unfair share of the bad one."
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Which, you know, totally sucks in times like these.
He stays still.
"How long do you suppose we're going to be left like this before someone comes in?"
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It's a nice one too.
Completely incompatible with most kidnapping situations.
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And kidnapper types tend to be unpredictable, either way.
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So.
There's that whole factor.
Her voice slips into a dry drawl, "We really need to practice that whole thing where we think things through a bit more."
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Tristran chuckles at the irony and unfortunate circumstance of their situation. "Yes. I do believe that is something we'll need to work on in the future."
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The door swings open with a bit too much force, crashing into the opposite wall to admit a rather familiar assortment of figures.
"We're hoping that everyone's comfortable, yeah?"
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"Just peachy," she replies, voice overly sweet. "Thank you for asking."
Well, no one can say that she has no manners.
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The more direct and shouty approach.
"Oi!" he shouts, "let us go! What do you want with us, anyway?"
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The leader leans against the doorframe, fellows flocking around the space behind him.
"Tryin' to be helpful.'
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He shakes his head.
"Look, we just want to be let off."
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She turns her head slightly, lowers her voice.
"I do not know if we are in the best position to be making demands at the moment."
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