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In which three espers enjoy the fruits of their labor
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"No, not exactly. Esper department is separate but they make us do similar training."

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"Makes sense, there's a lot of overlap.  But no gun?"

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"Nope." Too much of a liability. Honestly, he likes to whine about it as a bit, but he would refuse one if offered.

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Tim grunts, looking unimpressed. Every esper should carry a sidearm, backlash is our limit and guns are free by that measure.

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"Is a backlash thing."

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"I could carry a gun if I wanted but I'm almost always working with somebody else, for my own safety, either other espers like today or a DRT squad so I sort of feel like it would be redundant. Also owning a gun is a lot more...culturally fraught in Canada, though less so for espers."

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Tim’s face smooths out as soon as he hears “backlash thing”, although he’s clearly not completely satisfied by Graviton’s explanation.  “Huh.”  Misha gets some apologetic pets, then.  Backlashes are a drag.  “Just weird being the only guy on the team with a firearm.”

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"Do most American combat espers carry guns then? It's less common in Canada I think."

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"Y...es?  We're limited on backlash, and shooting something is cheaper on backlash than kicking it until it stops moving, usually.  Uh, when I say 'we', I mean espers in general.  And I guess your kicks probably don't do more than, you know.  Normal kicks."

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"That...is a valid point. Though in many cases I'm brought in for dungeons with monsters that are difficult to shoot without my power in any case."

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Tim snorts, struck by amusement.  “Three support espers walk into a dungeon…”

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“Dungeon says, ‘Ouch!’”

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Tims own abs kick into Misha's, and his warm breath ghosts over Misha's skin.  "Yeah, it sure does.  I think I'm about ready to get back into it, you two feel okay?"

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Not after that sensation, he’s not. “Ah, sure? Not quite zero yet but it’s close.”

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Unknowingly, Tim may be making it worse.  He shifts slightly, to provide more thorough coverage of Misha.  "We can take a few minutes to take care of you, it's fine."

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This is why a smart esper, given notice about being shunted overseas unexpectedly for dungeoneering, wears compression shorts.

Misha was neither smart nor given notice, and now he is starting to be dangerously close to paying the price. “No, is fine, I can go now. Get up.”

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"I'm all right to go myself now." She's not moving quite yet.

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"Well, if you're sure?"  Still don't love the undisclosed backlash, but.  I think I can work with this.  If Graviton will deign to permit Tim to get up, he'd like to offer Misha a hand up, then keep it for the guiding.  It's hard to estimate backlash on a stranger, but it's definitely not as bad as when Misha had gotten his impromptu Judo demo.

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She'll move as soon as he starts to, yeah.

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Phew.

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Tim is blissfully unaware of Misha's relief.  He will, however, de-hand Misha long enough to pass him his shirt back.  He checks his equipment extremely carefully, Safety First.  "Either of you need anything?  Graviton, you've eaten and drunk enough?"

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She's gathering her own equipment, "Yeah, should be good there." She successfully consumed the entire granola bar before Misha appeared.

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"Cool.  Okay.  Uh, Misha, you've still got a bit on, d'you want to..?"  He offers a hand, a little shyly for all that they were just cuddling half-naked a few minutes ago..

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Yes. “Eh, I guess.” He takes the hand after everyone finishes preparing and they exit the tent.

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Cool.  Then Aumento will both guide Misha in both senses to the next portal.  "Eyes in the sky say we've got a cluster of two near the wheat, then one near the, uh.  Tequila lake?"  Ugh, I hate uptalking.  Makes me sound like I don't know what I'm doing.  "I figure we should hit them next.  Should only be a few vics left, I think."

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