PWD #03: On the Topic of Gift Horses
PWD #03: On the Topic of Gift Horses
Summary: Noble finds Sera crying in her bunk. The Hook, Sera, and Noble showdown finally happens.
Date: 02/01/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Civil War
Sera Noble Hook 
Naval Enlisted Berthings - Battlestar Orion
Housing a couple thousand naval personnel is never easy, but the fleet has managed for many decades. The enlisted barracks are divided up into sixty-bunk berthings and spread out across Deck Three. Each bunk has a small blue privacy curtain to keep out the light and prying eyes, but at least each individual has their own space. The drawers beneath each bunk and the lockers provide additional storage space. Between each stack of bunks is a single table that comprises a single section, each barracks holding five sections that are divided by thin bulkheads.
Jan 02, 2005

Sera's in her bunk. That much is obvious. The light is on, shining through the cracks in her mostly closed curtains. There's even a foot poking out. There's also another deckie, though, Rodriguez, who shakes his head at Noble as he passes, heading towards Sera's rack. "I wouldn't do that, man," he warns, looking up for his magazine. "Not if you want to leave in one piece. I tried asking what was up and she damned near took my head off."

Noble gives Rodriguez a quizzical look without a single vocal reply. Instead, he cracks a brow at the man and watches the man pass him. Hrmph. He turns his shoulder so that Rodriguez can get through and then Simon comes to a stop at the foot of the bunk. Staring up at it as if he's about to clear out a bee hive, he takes a deep breath and starts climbing up the ladder. Once he gets to the top, he knocks on the outside wall twice. "Housekeeping…"

"Frak off. We don't want any," comes Sera's voice from inside. It doesn't sound like she's kidding, either. There's no clever giggling at her nasty 'we're not buying your Trail Girl cookies'. Not even a peep. On the contrary, the words are choked and don't come out particularly easily. Her voice is hoarse, a bit nasal. Gods damn. Has she been crying again?

Noble looks down the ladder and judges the amount of distance between the top bunk and the floor. He frowns, and then looks back to the closed curtain of Sera's bunk. Closing his eyes and firing off a quick thought-prayer, he starts climbing into the bunk. He keeps his forearms up and his forehead down, lest he get kicked in the face on accident. "Sera. I had a bad dream and I'm scared. Can't go back. I'm sorry."

Yeah. She's definitely been crying. That much is obvious. She's settled into wearing her military issued sweats — not even the ones that are cut down into teeny-tiny shorts, but the ones that are baggy and shapeless and issued to guys, too. Ones without shapely legs. She's got her blanket pulled up over her lap, a tissue wadded up in one hand, and red eyes that were supposed to be focused on the book in her lap, which she apparently hasn't gotten very far into. Not many pages have been turned.

"What do you want?," she asks, quietly, her expression shifting from obvious upset to obvious annoyance. It's not the warmest welcome, but at least she didn't crack him in the head, right?

"No, I'm serious. I had a bad dream and I'm afraid of my bunk right now. This is the only other safe place I know about." Noble murmurs. With a grunt, he turns and plants himself just outside of her blanket to the side. Arms on either side of him planted to the mattress, he leans back and looks to her, concern knotting his features. He glances quickly to the book in her lap, looking for a title, and then turns his eyes back to her face. "I just wanted to hang out here, I'm gonna be over here if you need me, alright?" He asks, and then nestles himself into the corner of her bunk, taking up residency. Of course, he's there to console her, he doesn't need to say that. This is just his oddball way of going about it.

She sighs heavily, rolls her eyes once, and then goes back to her book. "Whatever," the word is mumbled as she pushes her hair back from her brow. Although her bangs have recently been cut, she still seems to feel the need — that or it's an old habit that dies hard. The book? Prima, the author of Dark Day. In short, a classic. it's one of several that she has lining the shelf of her bunk. "Are you goin' to sit here all night and stare at me, or take the hint?"

"I'm probably going to stare at you all night." Simon replies quietly with a mild tone of voice, as if to say please dear gods don't take that as antagonistically. He clears his throat and fishes into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. Thumbing a pair of them out, he motions with the pack towards her, a silent question. "I came by to see if you wanted to play some DedHead. I sensed an overwhelming darkess, some crazy lost highway badness. I'm up here investigating." He pulls out his lighter, clapping it open. "You gonna be okay, or are you still in the I don't know zone?"

"I don't know." There's a slow sigh that pours out of her as she finally sets aside her book, tucking a well-worn ribbon into the pages before she stretches up onto her knees to rest it on the shelf. "I swear to all that's holy, this has pretty much been a month straight of everyone I know turnin' out to be a jerk, in one way or another. Like, even the ones you least expect it from, in the ways you least expect. BOOM. Jerk. All over the carpet and the couch and everythin'." There's a belated sniff, before she nods at his cigarettes.

Noble can easily assume he's done nothing wrong this time, as she's not referring to him as the jerk. Of course, he's been the jerk earlier in the month, near the end of the year, but his certain lack of boot-prints on his face brings him great comfort as he lights their cigarettes. With two between his lips, he lights them and then plucks one free, offering it over to her. There. Not a jerk.

"It's been one of those months. Feels like everything's tightening up now." Simon comments, nodding towards his knees. "Who's the jerk this time?"

"Judah." Hook's name falls slowly from her lips, reluctant to say it. Nobody wants to listen to a girl bitch about her boyfriend incessantly; not even her girlfriends. She extracts herself from her blanket long enough to half-crawl/half-stretch across her mattress and pluck the cigarette from his fingers. It's promptly pinched between her lips, her first drag taken while she's still on all fours. The cloud of smoke gets exhaled out one side of her mouth, but is partially trapped by the curtain before it can full dissipate.

"It seems I'm worth two cows and half a dozen chickens on Gemenon or somethin'. I tried askin' him if, y'know, he'd gotten in over his head with this while thing and didn't really have time for a girlfriend, bein' as the only time I've seen him the last two weeks was when we were hittin' the sheets. He told be me he's been thinkin' about what bride price he'd give my mama, to take me off her hands. 'Cause the best way to let a girl know how much you're feelin' for her is by offerin' to buy her from her mother."

Simon listens quietly, brows knitting together while she goes through the entire explanation. Midway through, he breathes in deeply and pulls one of his legs in to sit cross-legged before him. His head sways, looking for an ashtray, and in finding none he simply sticks his hand outside of the curtain and flicks the ashes away.

"That…frakkin…" Simon growls under his breath, shaking his head from side to side with a thoroughly annoyed roll of his eyes. "Bride price? I'm sorry, but you've got a right to be pissed about that, Sera."

He turns in his seated position to face her, his back pressed against the wall of her bunk. His eyes raise to her face, settling in to what will likely be a long chat. "So…what did you do? And please, tell me that this didn't happen this afternoon after the lunchtime rush."

Sera retreats back into her own corner, huddling up in it like a wounded animal. It puts the maximum amount of distance between the two of them, sure, but also between her and pretty much everything outside that curtain, too. It's just not a day when she wants to be bothered trying to deal with the rest of the world. "I told him to leave me be. To leave me alone. After tellin' him to frak himself. And then I walked out."

Her statements are terse, truncated, entirely too the point. There's none of her teasing or her flamboyance. None of her verbosity. Just blunt. "And yeah. It was after lunch. I ran into him when I went in to do my laundry and….," she trails off, her eyes closing. "Frak." A whisper. "I left all my stuff in the washer."

"Not that I'd expect that he's still down there, but do you need me to go get it and finish it up for you?" Simon asks, ashing his cigarette outside of the window again. One leg sticking outside of the curtain, he stretches his leg to its full height and then lets it fall back down again. "Frak, frak frakkin frak…" He sighs. "Sera? What do you want me to do here? Do you want my opinion? do you want me to just shut up and for the love of everything not do something stupid? I'm at your disposal tonight, whatcha need?"

"Can you just… just shove it in a dryer or somethin'? I can deal with it if it's wrinkled tomorrow, but if it starts smellin' all funky, I'm goin' to have to wash everythin' all over again." There's another pull on the cigarette; long and deep, as though the rush of nicotine into her bloodstream may somehow calm her nerves.

"I don't know what the hell I want, besides that. I mean, I know he was tryin' to tell me he cared, and how much he cared, and he was swearin' up and down that he doesn't think of me like some kind of little girl or somethin', that he thought I knew that and knew him better. But I've known him for a month, Simon. It's not like men come with a frakin' instruction manual, or an automated translator. How am I supposed to know anything about someone I only know a little besides what they say and what I see?"

"Trust me, women aren't any less complicated. My life is…well…downright ridiculous." Noble replies with a snort of cigarette smoke away from him. Careful to not get ashes all over her bed, he looks to the long stem of ash at the end of his cigarette and mindlessly taps the ashes into the palm of his free hand. "But Fiona and I were together for almost five years and we only talked marriage three or four times, kickin the idea out there. That's four times over four years, and back of Leonis it's expected that the guy be the one to bend the knee and offer a ring. With Padre it's been a month and I'd hate to tell it to you, but if he's suggested wanting to meet your parents, then he's not entirely joking about bride price."

"A month." Simon adds, tsking and turning his head to the side, looking away from her. "That frakkin' guy's really starting to piss me off. Tell a guy to take care of his girl and he puts on the full press. He didn't happen to bring my name up when you guys had this fight, did he?"

She shakes her head; there's no ponytail to sway, just some half-assed tangle of hair knotted at the back of her head. "Only when I flipped about all the bullshit I've dealt with lately, at which point he reminded me that he ain't you." One finger, the nail back to its usual grease-stained grey instead of covered in chipping scarlet paint, reaches up to scratch nervously behind her ear. It's the wrinkling brow that says she caught it, caught that one little line everyone would be praying for her to ignore.

"….Why were you tellin' him to take care of me?"

"He ain't me…" Noble scowls. "…that frakker."

Sitting up from the wall of the bunk, Noble leans forward on one arm so that he can look at her from a slightly looming-over position. The new closeness allows him to lower his breath and give her an uncomfortable set of eyes, half filled with regret.

"He bumped into me in the hallway earlier today and said he wanted to talk with me. Ten seconds into the conversation he was thanking me for the keys to that room on the night I got arrested, and then kinda did that thing where he wanted a clarification that you and I are just friends." Simon shakes his head, a bitter frown on his face. "I told him he shouldn't even have to ask that question, and I told him that it should be him that was there for you for that stuff, like that night that I white-knighted, all of that shit. Anyway…I told him he should be frakkin' taking care of you." He pauses, casting a wan smile towards her. "I'm sorry."

"…I don't need anyone takin' care of me, Simon, and if me talkin' to you was such a problem, you should've just frakin' said so," she mutters, her mouth twisting into a scowl to match his own. "Next time, I'll just keep my mouth shut, and deal with whatever it is myself. Especially since that was my plan, anyway, before you went and decided that you needed to get involved."

And then, "And yeah, he should've asked me, because I can speak for myself, too. Gods dammit. Seriously, what is wrong with the lot of you? Or is it me? Do I give off some kind of vibe or somethin'? Have I somehow left you all with the impression that I just can't cope and might go shootin' myself out an airlock if somebody yells at me, or makes a pass, or grabs me, or acts like a jackass? I've never been on a cruise like this before. Ever. So what the frak? Did I suddenly mutate?"

"No, you didn't mutate." Simon starts, rubbing his hand over the side of his lip and up towards his eye socket to brush away the growing tension. "Sera Jane? Maybe I should explain myself better. I didn't tell him that he needs to take care of you because you can't take care of yourself. Gods, I don't even know what I meant by it, but I didn't mean it that way. You don't need anything, but you're hurting, girl. You're stressed out all of the time and you're capable of all of this wonderful, awesome shit and I just wanted to kick that frakker in the stomach and shake him by the arms and say be there for it and frakking do it right."

Simon looks to the side and stubs his cigarette out on the heel of his boot, careful to not get too many of the embers everywhere. He extends the boot out, kicking the spent ashes into the aisle below.

"It just kind of happened on the fly, Sera." He looks back to her, eyes and voice quieting. "I wasn't thinking much, but the guy's lucky to have you and he's holding on too tight, and it's squeezing the life out of you. Don't like seeing you like this."

"Ohhh, here. For frak's sake," she mutters and begins digging around in her pile of stuff, of which she always seems to have an enormous amount, despite her professed lack of money. At least it's all neatly organized. It's not really an ashtray that she offers; she doesn't own one. It's a mug from her sister's university. "I'll wash it later."

Her cigarette? She's still working on it. It's mostly just resting there, tucked into the very corner of her mouth, occasionally inhaled almost by accident more than anything else. "Half the time, he ain't even here," she mumbles. "It's been a little over a month, and the last two times I saw him in the last two weeks? Once was after Charlie's, goin' to bed. The other was right before Saturnalia, 'cause I slipped into his at two in the mornin', half-dressed."

Something Sera says hits Noble sideways. He looks away and gives the mug a long, slow look before he softly lobs the spent cigarette butt into it. "Sera…" He starts, and then bares his teeth largely to one side of his head in a half snarl, half cringe. Slowly overcome with awkwardness, he closes his eyes, takes in a long slow breath, and then releases it like a tired, old dog. Something awkward passes over his features. He taps his boot, hanging from behind a closed curtain in her second-floor bunk, idly into the empty air. "…is he, you know?" It's one of those questions that seems to be designed for the other person to pick up and move with.

There's a few long seconds while Sera stares at him stupidly, blinking a few times. They're the sort of long, slow, heavy blinks that ought to be accompanied by a sound or something, like the closing of an old camera shutter. "Is he what, Simon? I don't know what the frak "you know" means. Glad? Sad? Mad? Purple? Frakin' me? Circumcised? Secretly gay? Actually a woman? A race car driver?," she asks, a bit dryly, a bit of 'duhhhhhh' in that tone. "Finish your sentence if you want an answer."

Despite whatever yelling might have occurred earlier on in the day. There's a sign of a usual visitor to the bunk of the PO. His footfalls hitting the deck with the usual sound of scuff and shuffle, before the green bag in his hand is brought carefully to bare. Soon enough hand's to the rail as is the boot, before there comes an intruding bag-followed by a jerk of the curtain. Likely unknown bit as to what the conversation is about-but still the other marine is here. A bit of a stare is given towards Noble and then back towards Sera. A deep breath and the laundry is moved, so as not to bash into really anyone. "Or-I am sure you could ask him?" Of course he doesn't know if it's him or someone else. He won't presume to know. Doing such only leads to sadness. Apparently though, the Sergeant doesn't mind interrupting.

"Really what you're looking for." Simon replies, blinking a few times and then looking back to the curtain. His chest pushes forward as he leans back on his hands, trying to pop the muscles along his spine. One hand brushes over his face and his mouth opens for a follow up question, but is caught dead immediately by the sudden emergence of Hook's voice. "Oh gods, this is turning out worse than the highway nightmare." He grunts under his breath and then leans to the side, tapping the side of his head against the bunk in mock frustration.

"Gods, damnit Judah." Noble says under his breath, sitting up as he prepares to leave the bunk.

"What highway dre," she starts off, both of her brows arching upwards, disappearing under the curtain of her bangs. The question is cut short as the curtain of her bunk is yanked open without knock or warning. "What the fr" she starts off, before cutting short again.

Sera sucks in a breath, which finally kills off the cigarette that she's pretty much soaked down to a butt. It's jerked out from between her lips, tossed into the mug she's brought out to use as an ashtray. Frankly, she looks like hell. Baggy sweatpants, hair pulled back in a sloppy knot, her nose still a bit swollen and her eyes still a bit red from crying.

"You used to knock," she says pointedly. "What do you want, Judah?"

"Frakk it, Simon." Judah responds, though it's flat-before he is looking back towards Sera. "Your laundry. Left it. Didn't want to get nicked so I folded it and brought back to you. Didn't know if you were going off to Rotation or not." And with that he is looking back to Noble as he starts shuffling. "You don't have to go anywhere, if you don't want to." And there is a glance back to the deckhand. "And we've not had that discussion yet."

"You got a moment, since you're here?"

Simon's green eyes peer down to Judah, then over to Sera, and then back to Judah again. His fingertips drum on his thigh before he slips a fresh cigarette from his pack and brings it to his lips. CLANK. The lighter sparks to life and he dips the tip of the cigarette into the flame. Leaving the pack of cigarettes behind, the tall, red-headed marine thumbs the mattress twice to get Sera's attention and then he reaches out for the latter that runs aside the cubby-styled bunk. With a squeak, he extracts himself from the bunk and moves out onto the ladder.

"No, I don't," Sera says, her mouth quirking to one side and scrunching up. "I already asked you to leave me alone, so I don't know why you'd think I want to talk to you right now. Was pretty frakin' clear." And then, because she just can't help herself and her mother would smack her for being rude, she mumbles, "But thank you for bringing my laundry back." As though trying to make herself smaller, the little deckhand pulls the sleeves of her sweatshirt down over her fingers, hiding them and her wadded up tissue alike.

"You also, told me a half ton of shit that's occurred in the past week, that I didn't have a clue about." Hook replies back, as his mouth quirks right off. With Simon extracting from the Bunk there's a brief nod to him, before he is moving up, but he's not fully invading right away. "We need to talk" he says back softly. "And you're welcome." he means about the laundry. "I won't be long, but I don't like leaving things, the way they were. Proverb. Don't go to bed angry." a half smile tried and failed "Likely, because it makes your night shit."

"Hey man, maybe instead of telling her what she needs to be doing for your betterment you need to start asking her what she needs from you." Simon says, feet coming to land flat on the floor. Returning Padre's nod with a middle finger, he cranes his head to look up into the bunk and take in the sight of Sera. Simon frowns. "She said she wanted her space. How about you frakkin' give it to her?"

"Aphrodite's tits," Sera mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her forefinger, squeezing it tight and squeezing her eyes shut. "You might not have known about what happened, but that doesn't make what you said alright. It's not. Just… say whatever it is you came to say if you're goin' to charge up here like a bull whether I want you to or not. And then leave me alone." She reaches over for Noble's abandoned pack of cigarettes, already wanting another.

Hook looks back towards Simon. "There's a barrel of dicks with your name on them, Noble. I've not told her to do anything for my betterment since we've started dating or while we have been," He adds before he is looking back towards Sera. "No, it doesn't. I know there's a lot of my culture that can't be explained-and I am used to it. But that doesn't excuse what I said. What I can say is this: That I do care for you, and, and the words I would choose. No matter poor. Tried to reflect that. That deep care and liking. I do think though. Had I known what you had gone through-and that folks were white knighting for you-I might have chosen a better way to express that. "

And there he offers his own bit of quietness. "I am sorry. I don't view you as some object-or anything of that nature. I do view you as a woman. A rather wonderful one. and I am dreadfully sorry, that I offended you-and treated you any less than how I do value our relationship and you." And there he let's his grip slack. "That's all."

Noble moves to lean against the bunk across from Seras with his arms folded across his chest. Eyes turned to the wall in the distance, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head from side to side, biting back his comment. Giving them their space, he plants himself and chooses to not leave. Instead…he smokes and hangs just within distance to maintain a constant presence.

"…You pretty much already said all of that in the laundry, Judah, and I heard you the first time. I said I don't want to talk to you right now, and I meant it, 'cause the truth is that I really don't know how to deal with that or if I even want to. I know you meant it kindly and that almost makes it worse." Brown eyes are turned down, focused on extracting a cigarette from its little nest of foil instead of looking at his face. "That I was supposed to be takin' it for somethin' tender. So please, just… just leave me be, alright?"

"That's the thing with words though, Sera. You don't have to be taking anything for tender, if that's not the meaning for you. And I should have seen it. That's what makes it worse for me. I've listened when we've talked about how your Boss treated you, or how Duke was when we were first starting out. I should have remembered that and chosen better. Said it before or not-I did not know if I was heard." Hook says back, looking to her. "I can give you space, but leaving you be. I can't. Because I do care." he adds.

Judah barely glances back towards Noble, before he is looking back. "At some point though-we need to talk about it. You don't throw in towels over one word-or over a fight. And I know you don't either. Like I've said: I don't know how the rest of the cruise is going to work out-or this." Whatever this is. "But, that doesn't mean I don't try every day. Even if it's rough."

"Hey." Simon finally interjects from his position down on the floor. Cigarette in hand, he huffs out a cloud of smoke and looks over to Hook. He shuffles his feet, turning to face the man, squarely. "Asshole. If you can't do what she's asking you to do, then you're telling her no. She asks you to give her space? You don't. She asks you to leave? You tell her you won't. Look man, I know I'm not the only asshole in the room, and Sera? I'm not frakkin doing this to pull some white knight shit, but for FRAK'S SAKE, man. LOOK. How about you and I both leave so she can get some peace and quiet, alright? That what you'll be happy because I won't be in here and then I'll have magically coaxed you into agreeing to do the thing she's been asking you to do for like…five frakking minutes, alright?"

"No, no, it's cool," Sera says dryly, yanking back her covers. "It obviously doesn't make a frakin' bit of difference what I actually say, or what I want, or what I ask for. I mean, it's not like I could possibly mean anythin' comin' out of my mouth. How could I, when I don't know how I ought to feel or what's best for me without someone else tellin' me?"

Extracting her feet from the blankets takes a bit of work, but she manages, then swings them over the side of the bed. She doesn't bother with the ladder; it's occupied. There's just a thud as she lands on her bare feet and a bit of a wince as the shock reverberates into heels, up through her ankles, into her knees. "You two keep the bunk. You can cuddle. I'll go find a couch to sleep on. There's plenty on board." And with that, she's stalking towards the door, not even taking the time to pull on shoes.

"Yeah, hey, Padre, you wanna hook up?" Noble murmurs sarcastically. "Free bunk."

Hook watches as Sera plops down and starts stalking off and there's a blank look before he is looking back over towards Noble for a moment. His own jaw tightening before he's coming down off the ladder. "I call pitcher.." is all he manages out. As if the absurdity of the joke, mixed with the tense situation is the only way to deal in something that doesn't require knuckles or things being thrown-or other shit. A look over to Noble- apparently whatever else is on his tongue is being bitten back for the moment.

"Why don't you give her a five minute head start, Hook." Noble says from his lean against the nearby bunk. Turning his head to watch Sera slip away with his cigarettes, he idly scratches his chest and looks back to Judah. He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, as if to say well, what are you gonna do?. "Seriously, man. Be cool."

"Be cool?" He looks back at Noble for a moment, before he's snorting. "This' com in' from the same man, who white knights." Yes, he's heard about that too. "And then she I was trying to get a feel for you, said I told you to back off. Like you weren't even listening. I see you mooning over her, and then-here as I come up to apologize-You're asking if I am the right guy? How the freak do you want me to take that?" Hook asks. "You weren't kidding when you said you were a frakkin' asshole."

"Padre, I said I wasn't the only asshole and just because you tell me to do something doesn't mean I'm gonna just Cylon my ass into doing whatever you say. I tried to tell you man, you didn't listen." Noble points at Hook, trying to make his point clear. "I'm not mooning over her. She's having a rough gods-damned time so the obvious question is something I just threw out. This shit doesn't exactly look like it's functioning from my vantage point."

"No shit, Odysseus." Pdrae offers back before he's shaking his head. "Oh come the frak off it mate. Just do. I just now noticed that like serval hours ago. You know why. First thing she does is come in the laundry room and ask me if I am just there to chill. I'm not. I wasn't. You know? I don't just casually." and he doesn't flesh out the rest. "It's not who I am-And if I don't know that you've had shit going on with this, that some frakking El Tee wasn't doing his part. I bloody well could have avoided that land mine. Not likely, but I might have." And there he is offering a shrug.

"She opens and closes up so quick. Bloody quick."

"Don't know if I've had shit going on with this?" Noble waits a long few seconds to bother asking the question. With a cock eyebrow to Hook, he kicks off of the bunk and starts to head for the door. Trailing cigarette smoke like a slow moving coal train, he smirks. "I'm not trying to sabotage your relationship, man. Get off it."

Hook snorts. "Look at it from my side man. Then you'd understand." And he is shaking his head, before he is making for the door. And there, he looks back towards Noble. "You never answered my question earlier, bru." Simple change of subjects-What else is there too do.

"What question is that?" Noble stops, tilting his head hesitantly.

Hook pauses there, before motioning, or rather reaching in his pocket for some smokes. "How are you handling the hump?" a raise of his brow there. "This isn't my first road trip..I saw Valos, and the Troubles." he adds on before he raises a brow. "Light?" a roll of fingers. "…I've seen folks get tense their first tour into probable action."

"Ask me that question in a couple of weeks." Noble says, heading to the door. "If all of this mobilization turns out to be the result of some kind of bullshit bureaucracy, then fine. If we're about to get thrown into the blender, well then I'll know more. For now we're just on high rotation. I'm more worried that someone put me on track for promotion. Knox has been in my shit for the last few weeks."

(Scene fade…)

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