[ Act of God, on demand. Apollo's (relatively small, Apollically speaking) thermobaric explosion cuts a glassy crater in to the floor, leaving nothing but glittering ash and an unmistakable smell of barbecue in the air.
Job done. Apollo descends, flushed and golden with residual energy, and gives the pair of them a wave. ]
Poe! We should do this more often. [ He turns to Bean curiously. ] I don't think we've met, have we? Hi.
no subject
Job done. Apollo descends, flushed and golden with residual energy, and gives the pair of them a wave. ]
Poe! We should do this more often. [ He turns to Bean curiously. ] I don't think we've met, have we? Hi.