[color=gray][b]Jason Alexander[/b][/color]
[@t2wave][@hatakekuro][@Silvan Haven][@Lmpkio]

The situation, it looked, was resolved.

More or less, anyway. The important part was over, the kid had gotten back up onto his feet and had his wits about him. Lux's diplomatic savvy had won the day without need for tense confrontation. Without the need for my assistance.

Well, that was perfectly all right for me. I didn't want to work when I don't have to. I never have, and I never will.

And if I must work, being forced with no other options left and every alternative exhausted, you could be damn sure I was going to hate it.

In fact, I would hate it so much I'd have it done as quickly and efficiently as possible. That way, it would never bother me again. If I must work, I will work in a manner worth putting in the work to do work. And on that note, I flicked my eyes over a few degrees, to focus my gaze upon the man in this scene with the biggest chip on his shoulder.

The young man, that is. I don't waste energy trying to fight everyone and everything that I hate, or has wronged me ever in my life. It's an uphill battle, if the hill were a sheer cliff face.

Even after the Panacea that was Harken's magic, he was still weak in the knees as he rose. Meaning, he wasn't simply unconscious there. Something must have entered his system that ended up having a lasting effect— putting a damper on muscular control. When Harken wakes you up like that, you aren't groggy as you are in the middle of the night, when you need to go to the bathroom but slept on your leg so the lack of blood flow's made it too numb to stand on. No, you woke up instead from a day-long midsummer nap, bright and refreshed and in almost uncharacteristically good spirits.

Well, you [i]felt[/i] good, at any rate.

Judging from that sour look he tossed rainbow-hair's way before trudging off, such was not the case here. Meaning he'd had a bone to pick with her, meaning she was likely part of the reason he had gotten up so awkwardly in the first place. There was a story to that look, and that sullen expression. I was entirely sure of it. Spectra here was either at fault, or at least receiving blame.

What was it, then? Did this lady slip the kid some roofies? Ask if he could sniff this towel for a moment, because she was pretty sure it was chloroform?

Feeling my skin crawl, I continued to keep my eye on him as the other girl, now sporting brown hair, ran after. What was that all about...

Just checking up and keeping up appearances, probably. Something like "I feel bad, so if I show concern I'll feel better about myself".

People are self-centered like that, but they just hide it behind how they express those desires. Things like "I can't just let you walk off like that," or "I'm sooooo sorry that happened.", meaning "I want to keep pressing the issue and drawing the whole thing out because I want to feel like I'm helping."

Give me a break. I don't need that kind of pity, and neither does anyone else. Don't half-ass things. Be the real you. Be genuine.

Well, that was my take on it. At any rate, they were providing a good distraction from being stared at myself.

Come on, Harken, the deed is done. Just get hungry and crave some cinnamon buns or something, already.

Get me outta here.