( Hilariously, he gets it -- or he would if he spent five minutes thinking about it. He spent a lot of years being magic-phobic, but you deal with it for fifteen years you start getting a little desensitized to it. He's a bull in a china shop when he's mission-mode, rolling on through brusquely and inconsiderately so he can get the show on the road. )

It's not as weird as it seems, trust me.

( By way of dismissive apology, because... he is a dick, sorry. )

You're rain-proof, stab-proof, and bullet-proof for the next couple hours until it wears off. You're welcome.

( All said to the tune of you ready to go or what? )