"Oh come off it, it doesn't hurt." Loooong since have come to terms with the fact he's kind of a wimp, excluding that one time we don't talk about.

Also 'literal magic arm cannon' sounds illegal, all bets are off towards legality of actions.

"Excuse you, it's mademoiselle, did you just insult my age or are you already failing your classes again-"

Nothing will help the missus overlook the data thing, but something more horrifying came with that conversation. Kris has already stared info the abyss of assignments he's missed: essays and lab reports and hundreds of hundreds of unread pages and tests in preparation for the quarter-finals.

It's fine. It's probably fine? If he doesn't ask he can pretend it's fine and not have palpitations over his brother's future career outlook the guy lives in a car what the fuck would he eve

"How bad have your grades gotten."