[ Aaron meets him near the entrance. Part of him is ashamed to resort to this while everything else about him is paranoid. Asking for help is terribly difficult and just plain terrifying when he doesn't know who's out there. Who might be watching, who might be waiting, whoever's willing to take advantage of what he can do like everyone else back home.
He looks like shit, though. As if this lack of powers is a lack of drugs and his body is strung out on the craving. It's so much easier to hide behind a face he has to work on constructing anyway that sitting in one he's too used to. ]
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He looks like shit, though. As if this lack of powers is a lack of drugs and his body is strung out on the craving. It's so much easier to hide behind a face he has to work on constructing anyway that sitting in one he's too used to. ]
Hey—stop. It's me.