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"It's not even just her, is it, it's an entire gang of these people and their - extraplanar - things and methods - and you fell right into them," whispers Yerena.

"I have a mom. Woo, scary." She turns to Adarin. "Do you think she'll scream and run away if I let on that I have a father too?" she asks in a stage whisper.
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Adarin laughs. "Isabella, we're trying to be nice. Or at least civil."

(He is not mad. He loved that line.)

Gervail whispers back, "And now they have an entire bloodline. Did you hear? His sister, too."
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"My mom set Zeviana up with a girlfriend, and I have no plans to get pregnant any time in the near future. We have a couple immigrants. We are not trying to steal the genetic future of your sort of magic. It stole itself."

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"That much remains to be seen. Adarin stuck around until you showed up."

"Actually I stuck around after she showed up, knowing full well I could have just gone to a better place to live and then never come back. I stuck around for civil duty and all that. Then Enathira did her thing and that is what broke me. I thought that was clear? It's not Isabella's fault, please stop blaming her," corrects Adarin.

"Mm," says Gervail noncommittally.
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"I wouldn't have been very impressed with a plan that didn't involve ever going back for the relatively innocent fraction of the population of New Kystle," Isabella points out. "Though I would have been okay with prioritizing other things; there's billions of people on Earth to occupy ourselves with."

"You sound like a megalomaniac," says Yevena. "Occupying yourself."

"I assure you it's purely an aesthetic I put on."
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"She does, in fact, mean in the 'helping people' sense," says Adarin. "Not in the 'conquer things and start a dynasty' sense."

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"Yes, dynastics are pretty unnecessary for a naturally immortal species."

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"... Naturally... Immortal species?" says Gervail slowly, staring.

"I think you just broke him," snickers Adarin in English.
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"I will die if I get bored," clarifies Isabella. "I'm pretty good at keeping... occupied."

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"You will die if you get bored," mutters the stunned mage. "And - not before? Ever?"

A little smugly, Adarin says, "I found someone who has my lifespan. If we run away into the sunset together I won't be alone and miserable in a century."
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"No such thing as old age for me."

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Gervail is just kind of staring.

"It's a nice bonus. I was always a little concerned about what would happen in two centuries when everyone but my sister was gone. Now it's not as much of an issue!"

(Also because they're making everyone immortal. They can share the love.)
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(Yes, but Isabella's not going to mention that right now.)

"You look human," Yerena points out.

"Yes, we have a lot of things in common with them. In fact, my father is a human. Oops, I mentioned that I have one," she adds in a giggling whisper to Adarin.
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(Neither is Adarin. Maybe later.)

Adarin snickers, a little. "I do hope they won't react badly."

"Do all of your children just get immortality? Becoming - whatever you are?" asks Gervail.
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"...Half of them, under normal statistical circumstances."

(Figuring out immortality would be one hell of a statistical outlier.)
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"... Ah," manages Gervail.

"The others live normal-length lives," informs Adarin.

(Indeed it would be. Though if they don't manage it by the time they start talking about having children, if they ever do, Adarin would prefer to have girls. Immortality for his kids, and all.)
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(He will find Isabella in agreement if they have that conversation under those circumstances.)

"Does this help?" inquires Isabella.

"Only if the children are any more helpful than you!"

"...I would be worried," says Isabella. "If we had children more helpful than us. Would they sleep?"
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"I hope so, it's the best way to regain mana. They'd be partially crippled if they didn't," says Adarin dryly.

"It doesn't seem like you two are being very helpful," points out Gervail.

"You insulted my girlfriend. Multiple times."
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"It is difficult to offend a witch. Adarin, however, is not a witch," hums Isabella.

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"I am offended on her behalf," says Adarin loftily.

"Uh huh."

Gervail is kind of really, really concerned about them, now. They could destroy the world. This could be extremely bad. He glances at his wife.

"I'm a little concerned," he says quietly.

It is an understatement.
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"We have received, loud and clear, the message that you are concerned. What are you going to do about it?" asks Isabella. "Please bear in mind that while you are reasonably concerned... we are operating under the assumption that you're unlikely to be better than nothing in terms of things we care about... many of which include things you also care about."

(She's not holding her bow anymore, but it's still strung.)
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"I don't know yet. I'm still trying to figure out what you're planning to do," he points out.

"If you have immortal children and don't raise them right, they will cause a lot of trouble," his penguin adds.
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"I am unfortunately not convinced we have similar ideas of what raising children right may mean," Path tells the penguin.

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"Er. Teach them well, keep them from getting into trouble, quiet and polite?" says the penguin.

Adarin raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment.
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"...I hope for the sake of your children," says Isabella, "that they are all naturally extremely boring."

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