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Posted: Sat Apr 13, 2019 8:56 pm
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"You have a very thankless day ahead of you."
The pink colt's statement was matter-of-fact but without malice, simply stating a fact in the way one might say that garbage stinks - absent of sympathy, and bordering a warning. Grey eyes regarded the unusual filly with dispassionate interest, clinical but attentive, noting her swampy, ghostly appearance as what was probably normal for her and not a cause of concern for him. Thank goodness. He wasn't sure what good chiding a ghost-Phony would do.
He wore a small badge around his neck that denoted him as part of the first aid crew, but he chose to instead traipse near her booth, because preventing injuries was the first step in practicing medicine. Some idiots - like the ones running in dogged heat for a marathon - could not be trusted to be smart enough to prepare, and thus, he took it upon himself to be where he was not supposed to, because it was his job. End of story.
Of course, he didn't share an inkling of that out loud just yet, looking over towards those already in action with lazy disinterest. "I'm not sure who is more unfortunate - they, who choose to do this to themselves, or we, who must tend to their foolish decision."
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Posted: Thu Apr 18, 2019 7:12 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2019 6:38 pm
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Mercy arched an immediate brow at the other's response - the sheer confidence of it that lacked arrogance, the comfort of knowing one's self and mind. He was quietly impressed, and almost would have thought to have been looking in a mirror - if he possessed an iota of fondness, anyway. For this brand of madness, he was most assuredly absent in that department.
"I do not. But - " he paused on the word to use, deciding to include the patient filly, " - we are not like most." Stormy eyes slid to the side as the runners bypassed them, probably thinking the two babbens cute or quaint for their presence. If he cared, he'd probably fly up and drop kick them in the face, but that would require more of his time and efforts. Unacceptable.
He moved next to her without invitation or qualm, sitting in the meager shade the small booth offered. "I wouldn't say I support them, however. I'm just here to make sure they don't over-do it, and if they do, make sure they understand how idiotic they are." There was a brief, ever-so-light smile that formed, almost more like a grimace of discomfort before it was gone again. "Not many our age can say that." He shrugged, looking over to her again, appraising, trying to see if there were any cracks or weak spots in this supposed mission. "What's your plan, then? To get them to drink."
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