The therapists said I was depressed. I was too exhausted to fight them on the diagnoses. That was what our little road-trip was about. Trying to find my Guide before I ended up in the New Jersey Center for Disturbed Sentinels. In reality, finding my guide didn't really matter to me anymore. All I wanted was to make sure Gerard found his Guide before her turned back to the drugs.

Things are going pretty well for the Leverage crew until Lindsey McDonald shows up on their doorstep. Then, not so much.

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] has joined memo CALLING ALL JACKASSES -- CG: THANK LITTLE JEGUS AND ALL HIS WIGGLER-EATING ELVES. WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING STATUS. CA: oh great and wwhich human evven is that again TT: Oh, please. We both know perfectly how well you remember me, Mr. Ampora. TT: My status is, if you will permit the bad joke, wet and horny. CG: MY GANDERBULBS JUST IMPLODED FROM GROSS BY PROXY. WHAT THE CROTCHBLISTERING *FUCK*, LALONDE? TT: As in, I have just emerged from what is either a recuperacoon or a fairly good mock-up, and there are protrusions attached to my skull that I am inclined to believe would be candy-corn-colored. CG: ... OH. YEAH, VERY AMUSING. I AM VERY AMUSED. HERE IS A PICTOGRAPHIC REPRESENTATION OF MY MIRTH. |:B

Prompto stared, and stared, and stared. Gentiana only smiled. “Let me clarify some things,” he started. “I’m a favorite of the, um, the Six?” “Our Most Beloved,” Gentiana repeated. “Right,” said Prompto. “And because you knew I’d be lonely and, and depressed after Noct brought the sun back, you – brought me to a parallel universe??” “Yes,” said Gentiana, ever patient. Prompto needed a drink. Or twelve.

Zuko's soul marks have been regularly burned away since before he knew what they meant. He knows that he cannot be loyal to his father and his nation while also being loyal to a soul family, so he doesn't look for them. Unfortunately, that means that he doesn't know when he's found them.