“[color=lightblue]That…[/color]” Follen started, and in his voice was the same tone Quinn had heard many times before. The tone used with children, to ease them into the cruelties of the world and remind them, gently, that reality wouldn’t abide their every fantasy. But it flagged, and he sat quietly for a few moments, staring at her. Then brow went up, and he shrugged with his lips. 

“[color=lightblue]…Technically not against the rules. If you can convince her to go, I don’t see any legalities preventing her from joining you in the sims.[/color]” 

He got up out of his seat and came around, picking his coat up from the stand. “[color=lightblue]In fact, why don’t I head down there, and see if I can’t convince whoever’s on duty that I’m trialing some sort of therapy. I doubt I can keep them from telling anyone, but as long as you’re willing to face the consequences.[/color]” 

A hand found its way onto her shoulder, as soft in touch as his tone had been. “[color=lightblue]Which there will be, Quinnlash. However this goes, even if it doesn’t work. There will be consequences. Are you okay with that?[/color]”