Grey's chat was being completely useless as usual. In fact, they were being more useless than usual right now, practically chomping at their keyboards like a pack of rabid horny dogs.
[GreyDominion: WHY IS IT STILL OFF.]
[RedButton: Because they're talking.]
[EpicPelvis: Nobody needs minutes of censorship to TALK.]
[SpellSeeker: You people realize there are legitimate reasons the Genesis System might maintain privacy beyond sex, right?]
[FinchTheDiddler: virgin detected]
The argument had already divided into camps by the time the stream suddenly flickered back to life, revealing Grey crouched beside the bed as he picked up the bomber jacket he'd flung aside earlier. There wasn't anything particularly incriminating about the scene on its own, but his shoulders were slumped, his expression was far too thoughtful for someone who normally looked pleased with himself, and Team Amara immediately smelled blood.
