Jemma blinked slowly, watching as the familiar one was abruptly surrounded by OTHER familiar ones. And two new people. 
They were people. Not ‘ones’. People. People… Hm. What were they saying? Why was it so hard—

The one with the… Cigarette! Was lethal. Uncomfortable. He had no space to him, and while he flashed his threat display— Was it a threat display? She couldn’t figure it out. 
So instead, Jemma abruptly stood, stepping back a fair deal as she narrowed her focus on the tattooed man.
She watched in silence, as they all talked, embraced, and displayed their familiarities. The air twisted with their collected Astral Selves. 

And again, like a fool, Jemma spoke again. Her eyes went sliding to the [CRIMSON KNIGHT]. “[color=DarkMagenta]Why are your eyes broken? Why does your [color=crimson][b][CRIMSON][/b][/color] move like that? … It’s very distracting.[/color]”

All of this, spoken with the same air of simplicity that a child might tell an adult that the sky was blue, or that they were hungry. 
She blinked again, and before any of them even answered, spoke [i]again[/i]. 
“[color=DarkMagenta]Also, I am going to leave now. I do not wish to be assaulted again. Or to assault all of you again. So. Goodbye.[/color]”
Another two steps, wings flexing experimentally as she dropped down into a … Battle ready crouch. It was time to leave! Right? These were all former enemies. Right? Right. 

Thinking was… Getting hard again.