[Feeling the Psiioniic's hand over his, so close to his face and his scars, seems to snap Dualscar out of his depression. He lets go of the Psiioniic and steps away, out of reach, and almost has to force his hand away from his scars.]
You're too late.
[He looks away, and his hand rises, tracing the scars again, drawing attention to them, when normally he goes out of his way to pretend they don't exist.]
no subject
You're too late.
[He looks away, and his hand rises, tracing the scars again, drawing attention to them, when normally he goes out of his way to pretend they don't exist.]
You're sixty-seven swweeps too late.