[Lord all mighty, would you look at the chip on that shoulder! Richie gives him a pensive glance in brief, then dashes his gaze away to the hall. They're at the mess hall doors now, and he bunts the both of them wide open.]

Hallooo! We are back from the war and demand libations!

[Fortunately, the place is barren save for that robot butler fellow, who only nods and zips about to fetch the booze.]

There is that. I won't argue that attempts haven't been made. It's more just astonishing that you've got all the most ridiculous super powers in the world — not to knock your machine speak but I've seen people pull shit you'd only expect out of a Superman comic. And it's boggling to me when even that isn't enough to quell the chaos.

But... [And here he'll slide into a seat, kicking the one opposite out for John and his tired dead bones.] We do tend to come from a stock that one would consider preserving. Thousands of worlds that have gone kablooey, and the only people that were swiped up for saving all had something big to do, or something big they could do.