[It's late. Almost time for the guests at the Order to be in bed. It's just about time for curfew, actually. Apollo is seated on the floor, leaning against the wall of the lounge. His face is rather red, and his hair is a complete mess. He chuckles, raising a hand to brush the bangs out of his eyes. The skin looks pretty burnt in spots, but he's
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I really hope not. Reever's trying his hardest, though.
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