"Tell me about it. I thought green on white violence was a thing of the past."
There's a brief dilation of his pupil's, as Richie's primordial hind-brain decides it needs to pay lots of attention to that accent right there. He manages to put a lid on it and draws himself up, taking half a step towards her. "..." He then promptly forgets what he was going to say.
Smooth, Mercer. Real smooth.
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