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[archademode]

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[archademode]

[His attention shifts at that: he can detect something in her voice, bitterness or acidity or— pain, perhaps. It isn't his place to dig, so instead he abstains.

With a noted, new memory.]

I would end you far more kindly, if it came to that.

[Is this romantic?]

[poleaxed]

[Hey, it's doing it for her.] Yeah. Don't worry, I'd get it done quicker for you, too.

Likely top meself off afterward. You can make a proper ballad out of that. There's reputation for you.

[archademode]

Then I suggest we hold off, until this war meets its end.

Or until the shards claim us all.

[Whichever comes first.]