Grif picks himself up off the floor, shaking his head. Ow. Ow. Okay. He's locked in a tin can with Richard Squids-for-hands. Excellent.
Bringing up the Silver Surfer incident feels almost oily, way too familiar for the creature his friend has turned into. Because it's still his friend in there. He knows that, and maybe this would be easier to deal with if he weren't.
"Then what the fuck is it?!"
Grif can't make it sound cool, he's scared. He's stuck here. Speed will keep him clear for a while, but he'll get tired. He can be trapped. People have lain traps for him before.
He's never pretended to be an optimist. It's all down to how fast the other Legionnaires get here, and if it's not fast enough? He knows how this ends.
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Bringing up the Silver Surfer incident feels almost oily, way too familiar for the creature his friend has turned into. Because it's still his friend in there. He knows that, and maybe this would be easier to deal with if he weren't.
"Then what the fuck is it?!"
Grif can't make it sound cool, he's scared. He's stuck here. Speed will keep him clear for a while, but he'll get tired. He can be trapped. People have lain traps for him before.
He's never pretended to be an optimist. It's all down to how fast the other Legionnaires get here, and if it's not fast enough? He knows how this ends.