[ Suddenly, the tiniest ginger. Wobbling on stick thin legs with the grace of a baby bird, the boy with a face not physically soured or spoiled by events of his adult laugh stares into the feed with big green eyes that belie his world weary cynicism. ]
I suppose I should be grateful that I have been cursed to be trapped in the body of the boy I
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You are asking for help.
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Then you do need aid. [With a slight lilt bordering on an inquiry.]
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Acknowledged.
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[One that's becoming harder and harder to ignore. Especially with all the damn kids running around.]
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My function.
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