[Seeing helps. Hearing helps. Still, there's something particularly comforting in feeling, fingers curling tense around Thomas's. Reality is infinitely stranger here, but this still feels incredibly certain and solid; something to properly cling to.]

I'm not so fast as I used to be-- and remain entirely susceptible to knives and all manner of things blasted quite quickly in my direction.

[Unlike all the apparent superhumans and magic users among them--although that hardly meant that those who had been in the thick of the fight weren't as battered and bruised in their own, less visible way.]

Are you all right, Thomas?