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Eighth Casefile: Reversed Fortunes
[Action: Your character's living room!]
I noticed a few problems immediately.
The first was that I wasn't outside of Johnny Marcone's office building. In fact, I wasn't even outside. I seemed to be in some sort of small apartment.
The second was that I couldn't feel the Winter Mantle. Which sucked, because I had been in really, really rough shape.
The third was that I wasn't in really, really rough shape. In fact, I felt fine. The only thing that hurt was my back.
The fourth was that my back hurt. Specifically, my shoulderblades hurt. And I had the most peculiar feeling of deja vu, in the same way that getting dropped into molten steel gives you a peculiar feeling of warmth. That, and the familiarity of the apartment...
"Oh hell's bells, you cannot be serious."
[OOC: So for today's exceptionally late re-intro, enjoy 1 Harry Dresden, slightly confused, and appearing in somebody else's house for a change.]
Absolutely!
And then I heard the unmistakable sound of passive magic shorting out advanced circuitry. From a broody-looking guy just to my left.
I turned and found him examining his arm. His limp and lifeless arm. And he pulled off his glove to reveal-
Oh, hell's bells. I vaporized the poor kid's arm.
"Crap! Uh, sorry. Sorry about that. Usually I can, um. Control that. Better."
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“You... did this?” Anakin did not look relieved, or happy to have this answer.