Buddy, guy, it's exactly as weird as it seems. I get the sentiment, but don't pull that shit without asking.

（ it's not a no, it's just a tell me next time. his tone is military-neutral rather than obviously irate, the sort of unfailingly-polite-but-brusque tone you sink into when you recognize the other option is lashing out.

but his skin's crawling beneath the veneer of professionalism. simbria and her jade cage are never very far away. the idea of being bulletproof is almost as disturbing as the magic itself, because survivor's guilt is a helluva drug.

he hauls his bag up on his shoulder, jaw set. he's got a rain shield anyway, because he isn't going to just blindly trust, of all things, fucking magic.

still. there's work to do, and they're the ones showing up for it. ）

Let's move out.