Ollie knew, of course, that Allie didn't completely forgive him, nor would she completely forget what had happened until somewhere far down the road… if she ever did. He was completely prepared for the day or two of half-hearted cold-shoulder that Allie would attempt to give him. He knew that his sister was strong willed when it came to most people, but she and Ollie had been best friends for literally their whole lives. While they had their share of fights, they never lasted that long or were truly anger-fueled like some of the fights they'd been known to get in with their crewmates.
A wistful smile came over his face at the thought of their crewmates, his liquor-buzzed brain still a little too happy to see the severity of the situation. Yeah, Allie was right. It would probably strike him as soon as he got to bed and got back up. Until then, though, he'd remain blissfully oblivious.
"I saw this graffiti on a building near Grand Central a couple weeks ago," he started the story that he'd recalled on the intranet. "Someone felt the need to write that they missed the internet on the wall. I seriously hope that wherever they are, if they're still kicking, they're enjoying having it back… sort of, anyway."
Truthfully, a small part of him wondered if the intranet thing could be advanced. It included journals and a forum now, but if the guy could make that from just short of nothing, what else could he do? Ollie's wonder was quickly stifled by the need to answer Allie's comment. "Don't worry, if I run into any drag queens, I promise I'll send pictures your way." It was a depressing statistic; the percentage of drag queens or kings in the world was already astonishingly low and now it was probably ninety percent lower. "Maybe I'll bribe someone to dress in drag for you, instead. Since you've seen me drag it up enough times that it's probably getting old."
He nodded his head when she agreed with Laney—or Lady, as she knew—about not giving out which safehouse she stayed at. "Yeah. You never know who you can trust anymore. I admit, it's part of why I like to move around," he paused, looking at her in faux-seriousness. "Though I'm not sure I like the implication that I'm a rapist," he said, unable to keep the joking out of his tone as he spoke. "A thief, sure. I'll admit that as many times as I'm asked. But a rapist? Never," he finished. "Ollify? I'm a verb now? Looks like I've made it. But yes. If I'm going to Allify myself, that's my condition."
Ah, Allie. Always prioritizing keeping her appearance up even at the end of the world. Ollie smirked but winced when she smacked him in the arm in one of the bruised spots. "Fortunately for me, all I have to do is throw you over my shoulder and carry you the other way," he joked. Though he'd done it a couple of times before, they'd only been play fighting those times. He'd never really do it and mean it.
He watched as she went from beaming to wearing a somewhat more reserved smile, and he knew deep down that the magic of gifts wouldn't automatically fix everything. It did, however, do what he expected it to and put a large dent in her anger. He watched her put it around her neck and shrugged a shoulder. "What good is an apology if not accompanied by a present, right?" he joked. "I'm glad you like it, though."
He paused when she mentioned band aids and looked down at his arm. "Maybe some ace bandage, too. Didn't notice until now but my wrist is a little bit sore…" he sighed. It'd all hit him tomorrow. He was sure of that.