"Thank you," he said, before the smile on his face went brittle. Hiding under a hospital bed, trying to calm his ragged breathing, and then--
'Somebody has to win and somebody has to lose here, I don't make the rules!'
Trager's freaky Variant strength, dragging him out by his arm, then stabbing that goddamned pair of shears through him - not quite his shoulder, not quite a debilitating wound - before he can wrest himself away with a cry and run towards the elevator.
"The same guy who made it so I can only count to eight and a half on my fingers," Miles said, a little too smoothly. "But, you know. 'You should see the other guy', and all that."
"Let's take a look," he said, lifting his balled-up shirt off of the scratches. "There. They look better now." He took her arm to look a little closer, and then--
--there was a brief glow from his hands, and the wounds sealed up.
He almost dropped her arm in shock; he did drop the shirt. "Hey, uh, you did that, right? You did the healy thing?"
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'Somebody has to win and somebody has to lose here, I don't make the rules!'
Trager's freaky Variant strength, dragging him out by his arm, then stabbing that goddamned pair of shears through him - not quite his shoulder, not quite a debilitating wound - before he can wrest himself away with a cry and run towards the elevator.
"The same guy who made it so I can only count to eight and a half on my fingers," Miles said, a little too smoothly. "But, you know. 'You should see the other guy', and all that."
How To Make Trager Juice. Step 1: Squeeze.
"Let's take a look," he said, lifting his balled-up shirt off of the scratches. "There. They look better now." He took her arm to look a little closer, and then--
--there was a brief glow from his hands, and the wounds sealed up.
He almost dropped her arm in shock; he did drop the shirt. "Hey, uh, you did that, right? You did the healy thing?"