All those times people joked about getting ready for the zombie apocalypse... Every couple of years it'd pop up, and he found himself remembering the tongue-in-cheek service announcements and infographics people had made about it. They were funny then, and even now his lips would curl into a wry smile at a particularly horrible one that would fleetingly move through his mind. This wasn't a joke though. What was it about this place and shit hitting the fan? It was like someone had a big pot of spaghetti made of different horrendous things and they were flinging it at the wall -Exsilium in this case- and seeing what the fuck stuck.

Blaine sat in the kitchen and sipped from his mug. Gordon looked like he was having some horrible moral dilemma and the blonde could only guess what it was. The blonde was curious about all the shit that was happening outside, but he couldn't say that staying locked up inside the apartment was the safest bet. Might just mean you got to die last. "Do you want me to put a stool by the window? It'll be easier to sit, unless you like to pace."

His question, no matter how easy it was to be taken as sarcasm, was said in all seriousness. Even if he said it right before taking another sip of tea.