"You should stay, Nina. You are the heartbeat and conscience of this place." He pulled her into a hug, fast before she could punch her way out of it. "And I will not leave willingly." That's all he can say right now. But it is a promise.
"The conscience? Please." She laughed — grunted when he pulled her in for a hug. She paused for a second before she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. "Good."
He was serious. "Who else is willing to challenge our faction leaders. Who else has the courage to fight for this place and all you've grown to love here?" He will not be debating this.
"How bad was the aftermath this time? How much work do we need to do to clean things up?" He was asking about trivial things, but he hadn't released her from the hug, because maybe he needed the reassurance of another person's physical contact right now. Someone who wouldn't entirely judge him for it.
Nina would argue that several people, at the very least, had the courage to fight. But arguing with Gadriel only made her more annoyed, so she decided to just roll her eyes.
"Not as bad as before. Structurally speaking, anyway. Emotionally — I think it's a lot worse, seeing how many people died. But we'll make it."
"I think so." She couldn't say for sure. It sounded like Beleth was asking about someone that had died that, somehow, didn't make it back, but she was choosing to ignore that. "It still sucks, seeing or hearing about your loved ones dying. Like you did, asshole."
It's not like he did it on purpose just to piss her off.
"It was either you or me. I made the obvious choice." She had a complicated network of friends and loved ones here. He had...a cat. And a goddess sort of girlfriend who had accepted his loss with the stoic acceptance he would have expected from her.
"Yes." Like. Duh. Of course he'd try to stop you from sacrificing yourself for him. "Nina. This is what I chose. What I pledged my life to. Your life is pledged to others. Alive."
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"How bad was the aftermath this time? How much work do we need to do to clean things up?" He was asking about trivial things, but he hadn't released her from the hug, because maybe he needed the reassurance of another person's physical contact right now. Someone who wouldn't entirely judge him for it.
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"Not as bad as before. Structurally speaking, anyway. Emotionally — I think it's a lot worse, seeing how many people died. But we'll make it."
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That was sobering news. "Everyone is back now, though, right?" Not that it undid death for those who had to be left behind, but it was something.
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"It was either you or me. I made the obvious choice." She had a complicated network of friends and loved ones here. He had...a cat. And a goddess sort of girlfriend who had accepted his loss with the stoic acceptance he would have expected from her.
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