[ There's more than one set of wings in the sky tonight as Marco's circling the town as well, this time with the sharp glare of an osprey as he keeps his eyes out for any signs of suspicious behavior.
He knew the supposed lack of Yeerks here was too good to be true. Gnosia, slugs, what difference did it make when the end result was all the same? And yeah, maybe he has some sort of 'cure' now that they sure as hell could have used back home, but it's not like he wants the responsibility especially when he can't even tell who's been infected - as far as he's concerned, it'd be better if he'd gotten no role at all so he'd have an excuse to stay hidden and let everyone else sort this mess out. Instead, he's forced to listen to that annoying voice in his head nagging that he should be doing more and helping out with this power he never asked for.
Ugh. Morals. Cassie's been too much of a terrible influence on him.
The osprey's eyesight begins declining as the sun sets and dusk settles in, and he's nearing the two-hour limit anyway, so he lands on a park bench in order to start demorphing. Before he does though, he spots a familiar pale form nearby and hesitates. He knows it's stupid to trust anyone in this situation, but he can't help feeling a pang of empathy...morphers gotta show solidarity, right? ]
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He knew the supposed lack of Yeerks here was too good to be true. Gnosia, slugs, what difference did it make when the end result was all the same? And yeah, maybe he has some sort of 'cure' now that they sure as hell could have used back home, but it's not like he wants the responsibility especially when he can't even tell who's been infected - as far as he's concerned, it'd be better if he'd gotten no role at all so he'd have an excuse to stay hidden and let everyone else sort this mess out. Instead, he's forced to listen to that annoying voice in his head nagging that he should be doing more and helping out with this power he never asked for.
Ugh. Morals. Cassie's been too much of a terrible influence on him.
The osprey's eyesight begins declining as the sun sets and dusk settles in, and he's nearing the two-hour limit anyway, so he lands on a park bench in order to start demorphing. Before he does though, he spots a familiar pale form nearby and hesitates. He knows it's stupid to trust anyone in this situation, but he can't help feeling a pang of empathy...morphers gotta show solidarity, right? ]
< You and me both. How are you holding up? >