(1939-02-12) Food Therapy
Details for Food Therapy
Summary: Myrus and Jenny talk about life and end up in the club room for a cooking less turned mess, when Tarquin joins them.
Date: 1939-02-12
Location: Hogwarts

Jenny sat in the window ledge, back against the wall; one leg draped on either side of the frame as she watched the snow flutter down lazily towards the ground beyond. It made for a pretty morning backdrop. And it was morning, decidedly early. And above all, it was quiet. That was probably what she liked about it. The silence. It helped, too that she'd paid a first year to watch near the bottom, so that the sound of whistling could be heard whenever someone approached and it was a different sound for prefects over students. That way, she knew whether or not she needed to put out her cigarette.

There were two figures running down below in the training areas between the louvre where Jenny was and the Lake. It was Myrus and Anthony. As usual running together in the early morning hours. After they finished their run, one of them walks off, and the other looks up at the Louvre, as he had during the run, too. Several times. So Myrus continues to run, but he runs inside.
The poor firstie might be confused when Myrus springs past him, nearly bowling him (or her) over it felt like as Myrus trots over to the Louvre, stopping at the doorframe. Tshirt, baggey workout pants, and slippers that would be more useful on the mat of a boxing ring than running outdoors, but they seem to work. "Good morning."

Snow. What kind of idiots run in snow? But the answer's a bit self explaining, isn't it? Because Jenny looks up when Myrus invades her quiet, but doesn't toss away the fag. "Morning," the greeting rumbles, quiet but not unwelcoming, while her mind processed back to the last time they were alone and absolutely everything that'd happened since.
"Have a good run?"

Myrus doesn't intrude into the louvre's space just yet, and he leans sideways on the doorframe crossing his arms over his chest and one foot over the other. He smiles at her question, "Yes, very. Nothing like legs burning and nose freezing." Even his lips were a little cold, as his words were starting to mumble just the slightest bit.

Both legs swing up, fitting against the ledge, her feet settling against the other side so as to help maintain her balance. "Seems like you'd learn that you could cast an Impervius Charm on yourself to keep the cold away," Jenny suggested, before flicking her ashes off to the side, letting them tumble away into nothingness.

"But I'm glad that you had a good run."

Myrus nods, "I did on the way up here. So I can warm myself up instead of having to hide by the fire and can't get anything else done this morning. Makes for quite the beginning for a shamble of a day, if you ask me." He sniffs a little bit, reaching up to rub his nose. "And I'm sure- Uh, you're enjoying your smoke." He chuckles a little to himself, "Yeah I really got nothing to top that. How's life?"

"Good. Next time you should try it before you run. It'll cut down on the freezing bits," ever so helpfully suggested. Though she managed a bit of a wry smile, when he talked about how being cold could shamble a day; head bobbing in agreement.
"And aye, I am. Couldn't sleep. Didn't feel like being in the common room. So…," so she wasn't. The shrug was careless, if not entirely meant.
"And life is going. How bout you?"

He nods at her saying she's enjoying her cigarette. Why else would she be smoking, right? Rus didn't know. That's gone a moment later when she answers his question about life, and he lilts his head to one side, pushing from where he's standing and now with the full-on conversation between them, he gestures to the bench in the wall where she could see him and he could see her. "Mind if I join you? I don't smoke, but I do sit."

"Feel free," Jenny invites, with a sweeping gesture of her hand. Two weeks ago, she didn't smoke either. She also tended to chatter more and smile at nothing at all. And now? She's content with the quiet and mostly watching the fag burn. "If the smoke bothers you though, I can put it out? It used to make me sneeze all the bloody time."

Myrus nods, "Why thank you." And he takes the seat. As she speaks of the smoke bothering him, he makes a 'seriously?' face, "If I'd been bothered by it, I'd have already asked. Esther smoked around me. Didn't bother me then, doesn't bother me now."
And he says her name so easily. He's made his peace it seems for the most part.
"Oh, life is fine. No thanks to your help, and a few others' help, too." A smile to her. Stupid boyish smile.

"I'm glad I could help then," Jenny replies, offering a smile in the boy's direction, for that she doesn't entirely meet his eyes. She is glad that he's happy. But hindsight is rather clear and there's a nasty little voice in the back of her head that suggests she could have been less stupid and still have had some sembalance of happiness, even if it wasn't perfect. But it wasn't Myrus' fault. It was hers. At least she accepts that or the conversation could have taken a nasty turn.

"Good." Myrus had noticed how she'd been acting already this morning. Not quite herself. "Are you ok? You don't seem yourself today." He leaned against the cool wall, that he could feel, but the cold didn't seem to ever make his skin cold or sting or even numb. "If you don't want to talk about it, I won't say anything more." She helped him, he figures it was only proper for him to return the favor. He didn't expect more than talking, of course.

"Mmm, no. Seems fair to be honest, doesn't it? No. But I am reminded that I'll cry and I'll laugh and that things will eventually get better. So there's that. I suppose there's talking too, but…I've always sort of figured that works better with other people than it does me. But it was nice of you to ask, Myrus and I appreciate that." A ghost of a smile came offered in the boy's direction.
"So, big plans for the holiday of horrors on Friday?"

Myrus nods to her and how she talks about how she's not exactly a big talker on that sort of thing, if he understood that right. "Sure, any time." He returns her ghost of a smile with his own.
Then she mentions friday. "Oh. Not really. I'll probably just muddle through all the decorations and spend it by myself. Unless those glasses I signed up with the divinations class? Club? ANyway, I signed up for some glasses, I don't think it's real at all, but should be fun to see what happens anyway."

At his mention of the glasses, a brow lofted and Jenny canted her head to the side. "You signed up for that?" Her tone says enough, but… "It's a bit of a load of bullshit, isn't it? If stuff like that actually worked, don't you think that it would be used all the time and every match ever made would be a happy one and the world'd be full of happily ever afters all the fucking time. But it's not. It's just full of stupid people who..," breathe.
"Anyway, hope that works out for ya." Flat look.

Ah, so /that's/ the problem. "Yes it would be full of for-fucking-evers. But it's not, and I'm just going to eek out as much fun for myself as I can. Maybe find me a little valentine for myself and enjoy the weekend." He started musing, but then looked at her, and chews on the inside of his lip.
He stands up quickly, "Well, if you ever want to talk or complain to someone's ear, I've got one for you." This would be a good time to pull a rubber ear out of his pocket, but alas, Rus isn't that kind of guy. "Unless there's something you want to get off your chest now."

"Good luck to you," Ugg. That sounded annoying even to her, because she was echoing herself. "I just…well, I guess I don't understand. But I suppose I don't need too. Or that…Bah. Whatever," she waved the notion off and flicked the remainder of the fag off over the side.
"What does talking do, anyway? Honestly? It's not like we don't go over things in our heads a million times. So, it's fine. I mean, we either let someone else decide our worth or we carve it for ourselves and I should probably just get the fuck over it and I will. Soon as I can figure out precisely how the hurting stops. The alternative is to simply…not care at all. But we're only sixteen, right?"

"Right. So go find something fun, and do it." Was he telling her to go do something? He watches her flick the rest of the cigarette off the edge, and he offers a hand to help her down. "I'm no gentleman, and you're quite capable. But, whatever. Playing knight was something I was only allowed to do in my head. So come along, lady fair, and let's behead the troubles of the day with a sword of… breakfast. After I get cleaned up and am not so stinky." A sniff to his underarm, a face, "Yeah, whew."

"That's easier said than done when thinking of fun things seems to be the problem so," with a twitch of her nose, Jenny took Lowe's hand and accepted the assistance down with a smile that was almost genuine. She chuckled too, releasing his hand when shaking her head with a chuckle.
"Deal. Meet you…where? Great Hall or did you have somewhat else in mind?"

Myrus holds her hand very cordially, it's almost theatrical. "OH, I don't eat in the great hall much anymore, unless the club room is being used. So only about half the time. I cook my own breakfast if things are available. Which they usually are, I just have to be careful to leave at least one of everything so someone can multiply it with a copy spell." And out the Louvre they'd head, he'd let go of her hand though, lest she clasped onto it. "So meet me in the club room, say twenty minutes? Have in mind a few things you want for breakfast." A really genuine and kind smile to her.

"…you're going to cook." The notion is, well, rather surprising, honestly. It's somewhat had to keep the look of shock off her face and as she listens and the more he talks, she slowly comes to realize that he actually means it. He's going to cook. Merlin!
"Okay. I can…yeah, sure. Twenty minutes." He cookes. Who knew!

Twenty minutes. Myrus was able to shower, get dressed, and get down to the club room within about fifteen. Someone wanted to see him cook? Such a great morning already. Or at least, he was getting Jenny out of that little place he once inhabited.
Getting to the club room was easy enough, other than getting down the stairs on slightly worn out legs. There was still a good amount of time before classes started, so it would be plenty of time to make some things. It was the Muggle way to cook. Actually mixing things with your hands and no use of a wand. His mother taught him that way so he could help her when he was younger.
At any rate, he was now getting to the door of the domestics room and opening it to step inside and his plan was to get the room ready before she got there.

Not one that was really big on clubs, Jenny took her time getting there. A brief stop by the owl tower to take Chester a few treats, which ended up taking longer than she thought it would and twenty-five minutes later, she showed up to the door of the club room, brows furrowing over the domestic scene. Jenny doesn't cook. She burns boiling water. So this is…a decidedly strange enviroment for her.
"Uh…so..are you sure that you know what you're doing in here?"

It's all set up, Myrus at least had everything laid out, except the specific ingredients that would be required for various tings she could say. But hopefully those would be there as well. Also some stuff to make some cinnamon muffins.
"Yeah, c'mon in! I'm just getting everything prepped!" He says from behind one of the 'countertops' that had him hidden, sorting loudly through cauldrons and trays and pots and pans. "Did you think of what you wanted!" He offers over the clanging.

"Yes, but you could be getting it prepped to explode for all I know. Is there some safe zone I should be standing? Like, splatter free or something?" It wasn't a whole hearted tease but it was an attempt at a jest as the girl made her way in; hands shoved into the pockets of her robes.
But when it comes to things that were wanted.., "I uh..well, I don't have anything I could suggest. Not really. I mean, I'll eat anything so…whatever you have available?" Bread? There was always bread somewhere, right? "Toast?" Sounded easy.

Myrus' head pokes from behind the countertop so she could see his eyes, which were deadpanning at her. "..toast?" He says flatly. "Yeah, that'll be a side, I guess I can make you eggs. How do you like your eggs? Fried, boiled, sauteed, scrambled, poached, over easy, over medium or hard, or some other way that I don't know how to do?" He went through the list rather fast. But, he was already pulling out bread and cinnamon and some of that frosting topping stuff.. cinnamon rolls!

That frosting topping stuff was confectioners sugar, which gets blended down into the kind of white drizzling syrup. But, Jenny went to slide up onto a stool, on the opposite side of the counter, so that she could watch. "Uhm. Scrambled." What the heck was all that other stuff he'd named off?! "Scrambled is fine. I've never really watched anyone cook before, let alone a boy so..if I stare…a lot and seem sort of, confused about the whole thing that's why."

"Scrambled it is!" And the frosting is already made into the drizzly syrup in a jar, he just had to heat it to get it back to the ooey gooeyness it's supposed to be, as opposed to the solid-ish crumbly substance it is now. "Scrambled it is!" And he'd put six eggs into the mid-sized glass mixing bowl that was now placed onto the countertop. He stands up, now in full view, wearing a brown apron over his uniform, and his robes were set off to the side somewhere.
He'd crack open the eggs, only a little bit getting outside of the bowl, and start mixing them. He doesn't talk while he does this, oh, forgot to preheat the skillet. So he turns on the flames beneath the skillet. "Here, come help me, bread is right down there," he gestures with his whole head next to him, "just spread some butter on it, and just toss them butter side down on the pan for a few seconds." He wants her to help him? Whaaa!?
He smirks a little, "Yeah, I'll just imagine it's because I'm so dashing, and you get to learn from me how to cook."

And he was in an apron! Wow. Honestly, Jenny just sort of, stared. In shock. Her jaw literally dropping a little. The boy was…wait and she had to help?
"I thought that you said you were gonna cook..," Jenny teases, easing down from the stool to join him on the other side. She looks at the slices of bread and then at the butter and then, back to him. There's a skeptic look on her face, one that suggests she isn't sure he's got the right idea about things..namely her helping and then, plucks up a butter knife, to rather tenatively start smearing butter.

Rus just shakes his head at her. "Sometimes cooking is easier than you think." He nods, looking at her smearing the butter while he throws in certain ingredients into the eggs, looking at her before he puts something else in, "Are you allergic to anything?"
Hoping she wasn't, "I'm just adding some stuff to the eggs for flavor."

"Nah. Not to my knowledge. I don't think." She hoped. Maybe. The poor bread was slaved in enough butter to float it in the pan, once it melted. Maybe. Maaaaaybe not. Who's she to judge? She's just following directions. Well and sort of, watching what he's doing over there with wait, "Flavoring the eggs? Won't they come out egg flavored?"
"What's that you're doing with all that other stuff over there?"

Myrus looks at the items that will be cinnamon rolls, "Yes I'm flavoring the eggs, there's subtle things you can add to egg. Some thyme, rosemary powder, a very light dash of garlic, and you have yourself a robust flavor behind the egg flavor. And one cannot forget cheese!" He pours the egg mixture into the saucepan, and as the eggs begin to cook and he continuously scrapes the cooked egg from the bottom to scramble them, he responds to her second question.
"That's going to be cinnamon rolls. For after the eggs."
Heat was too high. She distracted him? No, he let himself get distracted, thinking he was so good at this thing called cooking. But the eggs ended up being crispyfied, burnt all over before he can get them onto a large plate to serve from.. but alass, too late. Myrus sighs, looking at the plate of ruined eggs.

"…in an egg?" Jenny looked skeptical at all these things that could change an egg into…not an egg. And her brows climbed when he started talking about…cheese. He put cheese in with the eggs. Ohmygod. In the eggs. She was trying not to stare, honestly but it was like watching a trainwreck. A side of eggs she'd never seen before and wasn't entirely sure she understood. Eggs. In cheese.
"Hey like those you had that one time?" Cinnamon rolls. "Er no, that was muffin's, wasn't it? Whatever they were, they were good." And she's never made a pastry before. The idea of mixing the dough and rolling it flat, only to sprinkle it with cinnamon to create the spiral effect before it's cut she'd have never considered. Ever.
"Er…Marcus? Are those supposed to look like that?" All, incredibly..dark? In a very solomn voice Jenny said, "It's the cheese."

Myrus turns his head to look at the soon-to-be cinnammon rolls again, "Yeah, they're just as good if not better than the muffins," a drab face at the eggs in front of him as he puts the pan back on the burner, and turns off the head.
She asks him if they are supposed to look like that, and Myrus' face goes sad just a little bit, with a brave smile for her. And he reaches to place his hand on hers that holds the knife.
"Jenny.. you just called me 'Marcus'. And no, they aren't.." hand from hers, and he was back to trying to… ugh it just wasn't working today. He cast the dissappearing spell on the eggs, and they were gone. Just vanished off the plate. Now, he puts his wand back onto the counter, and rolls up his sleeves to start making the dough.

"Well, I'm not so sure thats going to be any good. And I'm moderately sure it was the cheese. Cheese just..it just doesn't go into eggs or it'd be born there." Really Jenny? Born there? The cheese would be born there?
The look on his face confused her too, brows furrowing. He was that upset over eggs? But then… "Oh." Well. That was..awkward. Immediently there was a slight clearing of her throat as her attention drifted anywhere else but there.
"So..can I help add in the flour and the eggs and stuff? For the cinnamon eggs? Er, rolls?"

He has to laugh candidly at her saying cheese would be born there. "What was that?" He just wanted to hear it again. It was funny to him.
Her awkward moment made him as well take a moment to look around nervously, then he quickly locks on to her subject change. Myrus looks at Jenny with a quick nod. "Sure." He'd then slide the heating apparatus out of the way, and grab a larger mixing bowl from below, set it up, and the ingredients for the cinnamon rolls were there off to his side. He'd grab the flour and more of the eggs, and set them next to the bowl with any other things that are needed. "Ok, so here we go."

"What was what?" Man, it's domestics club. Without the club part. At some point, Jenny was even sure she'd heard a ghost come by to snicker at this whole, failed attempt by Jenny going on. But, okay. Focus. He said she could help with the flower and the sugar and the milk and the eggs and the general mixing so…for the moment, Jenny's just, watching Marcus get things all set up and…
"So..," she took a tinsy tiny small pinch of flower between her fingers and sprinkled it into the empty bowl. "That enough?"

Myrus chuckles a little. "Nothing." So he watches her get ready to get the flour and put some.. in the.. bowl.
He smiles nervously, "Um, yeah, if you're making a crumb." He then hands her a measuring scoop that would grab up a lot more than what she just did with the pinch. "Now try again." He smiles at her. This should be humorous.
Myrus adds quickly, "Three even scoops is all we need."

He is not part of the domestics club, but it's early and he was walking by and hearing some people in the club room, he decided to peek in. So, Tarquin's head peeks into the room, he arches a brow.
"Solomon, Lowe," he greets as he steps in, then makes his way to the two, stepping at the other side of Myrus and across from Jenny. "What are you two up to?"

Three even scoops, he says. One. Went into the bowl, carefully measured, all neatly scraped off at the top so that it was perfectly level. A second one follows and it seems, perhaps, maybe, Jenny's got this whole thing downpat. Scoop. Scrape. Dump. Scoop. Scrape.
And it was done oh so very quickly, the kind of quick that has one never bothering to look up so sure was she of her aim. It wasn't until the cup of flower was already flying through the air, raining white sprinkles down on Myrus' head that she realized…her aim was off.

Was that scoop number three? Or four? Myrus really lost count when the pile of flour was now all over him. He coughs for the small bit that got in his nose, and he reaches his hands up to wipe away the stuff that was on his face. Not opening his eyes yet, "Alright, so one more you need in the bowl? Or did you just do that to cover me in flour?" He didn't know whether to flail wildly or laugh. So doing nothing right now was all he could honestly think of. Nothing.
Though the person coming in was attempted to be seen when the flour incident occurred, and Myrus blindly greets Tarquin anyway, "Hello, whoever-that-is."

Tarquin gets a face full of flour. That's what happens when you get your aim off. "Bulstrode," he says, as he wipes the flour off his face, or tries to, and then dusts his robes a little… making it worse. "Tarquin," he purses his lips, and flashes a grin at Genevieve.
"I've been told I'm sweet… but noone has tried to bake me before…" his words trail off in amusement.

Pokerface, pokerface, POKERFACE. Jenny is not going to crack. She's not. Straight face. Straight face. She's going to keep a… SNORT. Just one and the eruption of giggles that followed that singular sound were absolutely helpless. Shoulder shaking. Full of laughter. Genuine laughter. Marcus had been right. Eventually, she'd laugh again.
"I…Hi… I just.." Snickersnort. "You two. Covered." Giggle. Before she had the good sense to tense incase of retaliation!

Myrus' response to her laughter was a huff, but a devillish grin that finds it's way onto his face, "Ah, ok, How you been Tarq?" And he can HEAR her snickersnorting and laughing. Great locational use. Hand. Flour. Scoop. Fling. Right at Jenny's face. "You, too!"

"Yes, I can see how that would, well, yes," Tarquin replies in response to Genevieve's words. It's even worse, because he tries to remain his usual distinguished self, and it just doesn't quite work, when you're covered with flour.
He chuckles, shaking his head. "This is one way to start the day." There's a wince Myrus retaliates against Jenny.

"We've got a couple classes together, don't we?" Jenny inquired of Tarquin, seconds before she got a face full of flour that went up in a great big white poof of an explosion.
"Hey!" The girl cried, effectively blind for the moment and groped for a handful of whatever was nearest, which happened to be milk and the result was a squeal for the wrongness and a new attempt is made. That it happens to be sugar, that's also sticking like woah to her hand thanks to the milk, is an accident. But it makes it all the stickier when she flings it in the direction of the pair. A wide toss, too. Meant to encompass both.

Sugar, all over him. Stuck on top of the film of flour that's there, and now rolled into a caked-on mess of milky sugary mess.
He can't react quite fast enough to get his hands up to block it from hitting him right smack in the face, so he's now effectively a sugar cookie. "Hey!" He'd go for another handful of flour. If… he could find it. His hands patting the table around it, but he can't quite seem to get his hand on it, and tries to wipe his eyes clear.

"That we do," Tarquin replies to Jenny, wincing again the moment that flour lands on her face. He's about to say something else, but then Jenny is sort of flailing around trying to find something, and Tarquin takes it as a cue to try and help her out, well, not get herself covered in all sorts of stuff.
Then there's sugar flying, and he ducks, but doesn't get to avoid all of it. "This is turning into a war zone," he mumbles, and looks around for something to retaliate with.

"Hah!" Jenny squealed, triumphant if only because she could hear the sounds coming from the other side of the table. But she was smiling, it was bright and cheery and plain as day on her face. Though she took the moment's pause in warfare to attempt to wipe the flour from her own eyes; smearing sticky sugar on her cheeks in the process.

Myrus Finds the eggs. And when his hand pats over the near pile of goo-filled semispheres, he takes one up, and would launch it toward where he thinks Jenny would be. "HEre's egg in your eye!" Or not. Terrible throw, must be flour in his eyes.

The recoil was instant, smacked with an egg the icky slimy gooey mess went sliding down the front of her robes, leaving; for a moment, the girl standing there slack-jaw just staring. "You…that was….," shudder. Full body shudder. That was what Jenny did.

It's now Tarquin's turn to laugh. "Funny," he providers the answer for Jenny. Not that he's faring any better, covered in flour and sugar. "But I'd suggest we, uhm, clean up and go grab something to eat."

Myrus looks at Jenny, and how he successfully hit, then at the mess that was left. Tarquin makes the suggestion, and Myrus is quick to accept since she might just kill him. "Yes, you two go along, I'll clean up here. I need to finish the muffins anyhow.." He runs a hand through his hair, leaving all that was just about on his hand in his wet mop atop his head. He'd try to start cleaning up, hoping Jenny would just forget.
That he hit her with an egg.. right in the uniform. Yeah, she'll forget that, right?

Egg. Egg in her cleavage. That felt…icky was how that felt. And slimy. And her skin was still crawling as she did the whole, awkward shoulder dance. "I think…Breakfast sounds good." Jenny agreed and even let Tarquin start first for the door. With a smile and a wave of appreciation for Myrus, who still had food to finish cleaning up, Jen…slipped round the table to the other side, eventually starting towards the door and the boy going out it. And when she was close enough, the bowl of icing was upended over his right shoulder…

Tarquin stops, his shoulders shrug up, as he now is doing that awkward shoulder dance himself. "I probably deserve that," for laughing at her. Still, grinning, he dips his finger into the icing, tasting it. "Not bad," he flings some of the icing at Jenny as he continues on his way out. "You always get this messy before breakfast, Solomon?" He teases her, pursing his lips. He flings a little more icing her way.

"No," Jenny admits, still chuckling. "It isn't." Whilst the bowl is left behind on the table next to the door. She ought to feel guilty leaving Myrus with clean-up but, she's wearing egg. And while there was a little wince, incase any of that icing caught her eye, Jenny still seems at ease and nonplussed by his flicking it. "And no." The question sobers her. "Not really. It was just…," and trying to explain it only seems to remind her of why Myrus had been trying to be helpful in the first place. Blah. "I should go wash up."

Noting the change in mood, Tarquin frowns. "I'm sorry, I was just teasing," he assures her. "And you should, so should I, for that matter," he says, looking at his own mess, amused. He thinks for a moment. "After breakfast, we could walk together to Transfiguration if you want?" He suggests as they continue walking. He looks at the icing, and dips his finger in it again, tasting it, and shrugging to himself.

"It's alright," Jenny replied, flashing a smile in the boy's direction. "Promise." And the smile managed to remain, for all that it didn't entirely warm her eyes. "But..I can walk with you. Sure. But if I'm late feel free to g'head without me. Everyone'll be doing a last minute rush in the bathrooms to primp, what with the stupid holiday coming up."

"What holida—Oh." Tarquin stops and then chuckles, shaking his head. "I had completely forgotten about it. Figures," he smirks. Side-glancing at Jenny he adds, "Not a fan of it, I take it?" The holiday, that is. And then he shrugs. "Sure. But I wouldn't mind the company," he says, smiling. "We don't usually get a chance to talk much, you and I. And I came to the conclusion I could use a few more friends," he easily admits.

"Yeah." Flat-look. That holiday. And it was apparent from the look on her face that she wasn't a fan. Though, there was a painful twist to her expression when he said that he needed more friends. "Uhm..so..this egg really feels gross. I'm gonna go see about…getting rid of it." And possibly have a good cry. God. Boys suck.

"Sure," Tarquin replies to Jenny, looking, well confused. "Or not," he adds quietly, about something or other. Still confused, he shrugs, because what else is there to do and keeps walking. "I'll see you later," he calls out, loud enough to be heard, as he continues on his way.

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