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it is the inevitable tendency of glowfic protagonists with repeatable interworld travel to go peal
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Nod. 

 

 

 

"I don't - expect it to be enough, I don't expect it to work out, I expect we'll leave and come back and they'll have -"

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"...I know." He squeezes her more tightly. "I still - think this is the best thing we can do." 

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Nod.

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And he goes on holding her, quietly. 

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Leareth makes sure everyone is settled - hands off Mhalir to Ayodele, and Gates them and human Aroden back to the Yeerk ship, for now, less chance of anyone noticing them - and then he heads straight to his and Carissa's bedroom, and flops. 

:We are back: he sends to Queen Carissa, wherever she is. :I am - very very tired: 

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:Then I will wait until the morning to demand to hear all about it.:

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:I might tell you a few snippets if you come snuggle me. - Although possibly you should go hug little Ma'ar first. I think he found it rather overwhelming: 

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:I'll go check on him.: She does that.

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Ma'ar is sprawled on his bed, looking sort of forlornly at the ceiling. 

:Oh. Hey: 

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:Hey. How are you doing?:

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He rolls over to look at her. :I'm so tired my head hurts. And - I'm still really scared. But...maybe a bit less?: 

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:That's good. 

 

I don't know anything that helps with god headaches but you should - get a lot of water, eat something if you all forgot to eat at your meeting...:

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:Leareth kept making us stop and have snacks and water after we were done talking to god-Aroden, but I think I was too stressed about it to be hungry: 

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:Taking care of yourself is especially important when there might be an emergency at any moment.:

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:You sound exactly like Leareth now: He hauls himself up, though. :I'll go get something to eat: 

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:I'm proud of you.:

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He smiles weakly, and leans on her for a moment, before peeling off to dig for a snack in the pantry. 

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And she goes to her husband.

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He is still flopped. 

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:You'd think there being seven of you would mean you had less on your plate, not more.:

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:You would think! ...Unfortunately it seems to mean that we take on seven times as much, and then someone needs to coordinate us and I end up taking point on that: He rolls over, holds out his arms. 

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Flop. :I've been vaguely wanting to resurrect my grandparents, ask them -: Shrug.

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:Ask them what? Whether they would - prefer to not exist rather than be in Hell...?: 

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:I was just thinking - more broadly what it's like. I can't really imagine they'd prefer not to exist, and that's not really the point, right.:

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:...We could get a list of deaths. Resurrect a random sample of twenty people who died in the last fifty years. Get an overall sense of it from talking to all of them: 

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