~Character Chat~

" I regularly operate on three hours of sleep a week. I couldn't tell you how I felt physically if I tried." T.Mor said, still looking troubled. "Andrew..Seriously. Fun being alive time is OVER. Because...Well, I don't want to end up all gone or whatever."

"You would feel drained," said Ezra.

"Well okay." said Andrew slowly.

"Ah... It's...cold..." Peter murmured.
"That's never...a good...sign..." Izzy managed, her face flashing with worry.

"I always feel drained THAT'S THE POINT I WAS TRYING TO MAKE..." T.Mor was frustrated. "Thank you Andrew for saying 'Ok'. I'll be having my state of being back now, thanks..." He returned to being diplomatic relatively quickly.
Don't go toward the light. IT ISN'T HOW YOU SAVE DALLAS!!! Riddle advised unhelpfully.

"No I mean you would feel weaker than you've ever felt before."

"Dallas...is a...nice place," Izzy spoke weakly with a faint smile. "My...f-friend...lives there..."

"Oh no!" squeaked Liz.

You sound like emotions...What's going on out there?Riddle asked. She had dropped facing a direction where nobody was standing.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE..."T.Mor Said, becoming panicked again. The world around him was a mangled mess of chaos, and he just wanted to help...and not apparently die or whatever.

"Look calm down," Ezra said slowly. "It won't help."

T.Mor took a deep breath. "Ok. Calm. Now what?"He asked.

"Well I think...uh-oh." said Ezra, digging in his pockets.

"You brought the book...but not the vial...didn't you?"

"WELL I'M SORRY I NORMALLY DON'T CARRY DEADLY POISION ON MY PERSON!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"One...of us...c-could go...back and...get it..." Peter offered. "Then we...could come...back..."

"No you can't..." said Ezra thinking.

"And we're stuck here on the plane that's stupider than Riddle. Fan-TASTIC." T.Mor said, tossing his hands in the air. "Great."
I think we need to figure out what's up with the team though everyone...T.Mor can wait... Riddle suggested.

"Look you seem okay...you would start noticing big changes."

"Ok...Erm..Well. I'll tell you if bad crap starts going down on my side..." T.Mor said reasonably. "Peter...Are you alright? Are you sure you don't need any caffiene?"

"It...it's our...duty to...protect...civilians..." Peter went on. "I could...could go...get..."

Ezra nodded, "You run on caffine don't you?"

"Don't you dare," said Liz, pushing Peter down, so he would lie down.

"Everyone runs on Caffiene at home. It's easier to get than food." T.Mor nodded. He turned to Peter. "You look worse than some of the people I've shot in prison...You're not going anywhere looking like that." T.Mor said definitely.

Andrew's stomach growled, "Speaking of food..."

Peter didn't even have the strength to fight Liz, and went down. As much as he wanted to help T.Mor (not to mention that it was, as he said, his duty to protect civilians), he was glad that they told him not to go. He had accepted the consequences, of course, but...he still hadn't wanted to die.

"He won't die," said Ezra, understanding Peter's worries. "I'm not that cruel."

"Seriously. How can I help? You are not well." T.Mor asked.

"You can actually touch people," said Andrew, "but it's hard."

"That could use up my Toast power. Don't want to do that unless I have to...Tell August to do whatever Peter says he needs to be less...Out of energy." T.Mor ordered.