There is a figure sitting in the dark looking whistfully out the window. Bar has provided a very big pair of sunglasses, but even then that might not be enough to combat the headache of epic proportions that John Preston is fighting.
"Yes, it will be dangerous. That's why I'm bringing Richard? To protect me? That's what he does. Protect people." She's sort of blank-faced at him, "I'm no lorsh."
"I do need someone to help." She says in a matter of fact tone, "A lorsh is someone who would abandon a friend to Changeover. It's the worst word my language has."
"I wasn't born Sime." She says with a sniff, "Nobody can tell until they're in puberty what they're going to be, Sime or Gen. Sime need help when they go through Changeover and develop tentacles and a selyn processing system...or two if they're channels, ronaplin glands and a whole bunch of things that you'll never be able to understand because you don't have the biology for it. Gens go through Establishment, but it isn't dangerous on its own."
He might look familiar. Then again? He might not.
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"....How will you stop it?"
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He frowns, "....People getting hurt in any operation is a bad idea."
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Preston frowns, "I didn't mean that you'd require help, I was trying to be polite."
His face fizzles again into a confused expression, "What's a Lorsh?"
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Preston's mouth opens again, his teeth visible, "....What is changeover?"
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