[ The flicker isn't as bad as the disappearance. It's more like a tap on his funny bone, an almost pleasant jolt of strange sensation that leaves a raw tingle on the tip of his tongue. He scowl-smirks down at her as he swings his legs over the lip of the hatch and attempts to lower himself more gently than she did, the edge catching the bottom of his shirt and dragging it halfway up his pale, sticky torso as he hangs like a weird fruit and then finishes dropping. ]

I'm not dying for your sick purposes, Aisha.

[ That's literally what she was just saying, but never mind. He drags his shirt back down absently, hiding the patchwork of scars she's already seen, and saunters over to inspect the paper she's clutching. ]

'Exchange five sincere compliments each. Don't break eye contact.' [ He reads aloud, mildly. ] Well, forget it. I guess we're done for. You're going to break for sure.