[ Peter's kneeling on the floor, sifting through one of the supply knapsacks left lying around, when Maya approaches.The sudden flare of purple light in the darkness makes him wince, holding up a hand to shield his eyes by reflex. It's familiar, in an all too terrifying way, and panic chokes him for a second. He swallows it down, forcing himself to relax once it becomes clear he's not, like, on fire or anything. Once his eyes adjust, he turns to the light source -- some smartass comment on the tip of his tongue about lightshows and emotionally preparing a guy for one -- and blinks.
Oh no she's hot, is his first thought, followed soon after by, Why's that light gotta be purple?
But those thoughts scurry to the back of his mind, and he blinks at the orb of light in her hand. ]
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Oh no she's hot, is his first thought, followed soon after by, Why's that light gotta be purple?
But those thoughts scurry to the back of his mind, and he blinks at the orb of light in her hand. ]
... How are you doing that?