Phil looked at Clint, lowering his weapon, devastation clear on his face for a fraction of a second. Devastation for what Clint had done, or devastation for what he’d suffered Clint wasn’t sure. He squared his shoulders regardless. “People like to say that blood smells like iron, but it doesn’t. Blood smells like blood, and sometimes there’s no way around it and no room to regret it.”

Gamzee goes to a party, runs into a good-looking senior, and finds himself in a mess. Fortunately this short, shouty guy gets him out of it and talks him through the hard stuff.