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"We love you too," sighs Isabella. Path squirms in what seems to be a contented manner.

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Pet, pet, pet.

Adarin and Vern are content to stay here, for a while. As long as Path and Isabella want.

Neither of them bring up Vern touching Isabella. They're not ready. Not yet, and they don't think they will be for a while. But they can give them this.
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Isabella's not going to ask.

Path stays put for - a while.

Isabella drinks her tea.

Then he hops back onto his witch.

"Thank you," Path murmurs.
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"You're welcome," says Adarin. "Anything you need."

He's smiling, faintly, though. He enjoyed it, too, once he was sure that everyone involved was okay. It was like giving a soul-cuddle. Or soul-kisses, he doesn't know. It's hard to describe and he will not stop being nervous about it, but he did enjoy it.

After petting Vern, he reheats his neglected tea (with magic, because he feels like indulging a little and he would have to stop snuggling Isabella to heat it normally) and sips it.
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Snuggles. Tea drinking.

Vern will have to ask what topics are okay to talk about. Adarin wants to reassure Isabella that this won't happen again - that they won't try again, because now they are almost guaranteed to be terrified of him. He doesn't, though, for fear that it'll just bring up the painful topic and hurt her.
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"What are you thinking?" Isabella wonders after silent minute.

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"... I'm trying to figure out what topics are okay to talk about. I don't want to bring up things that are associated with bad memories, or things that would hurt you - or something."

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"I assure you I will probably think about the bad memories sometimes even without being prompted," she says wryly. "You can talk about anything - if I twitch it's just as likely me finding some cleanup work in my brain I would've had to do anyway."

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He kisses her forehead. "All right. I - don't think they will bother us, anymore. At least not anything quite so overt."

Adarin shifts a bit, then adds, "They are probably quite terrified of me, now."

It doesn't bother him.
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"I'm - not as sure. That one couple was concerned about - behavioral changes you've been exhibiting. Slaying half a dozen people in Path's defense is a behavior change. It might not make sense from their side, they might try harder to come up with some kind of plan to - address things."

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"It helps that my mother killed a whole lot more than six for the man she loved," says Adarin. "This is probably now considered a family condition. Her, Zeviana's rampage, and now me. It's entirely possible that they will write off the entire third bloodline as crazy, now. But you're right, I should probably go deal with them. Tell them that if they try this again it will have the exact same result."

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"...If something happens to you while you're trying to terrify people, I cannot go kill people for you. So, warn Zeviana if you're going to do that."

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"Of course," he agrees. "I don't want to die, living is great."

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"Speaking of which, you're quite unscathed? They didn't zap you with anything while you were there?"

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"No. I um - was faster than them, and I caught them off guard."

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"I wonder why they were off guard. I wouldn't be if I'd just kidnapped the daemon of the girlfriend of a fellow who could interplanar-teleport."

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"I don't think they thought I would react that fast. Or they thought I would - try to negotiate, try and beg for them to return Path and accept their terms or something. Plus when I was a kid they didn't teach us any offensive magic. I think they thought that meant I was powerless, or something. That I just make cool gadgets and make shields to protect people and I'm fluffy and declawed."

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Isabella fluffs her fingers through his hair. "You are fluffy, though."

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He laughs. "I suppose I am! Obviously this is my fault for not attacking my hair with scissors, I am fluffy so people will assume that I can be bullied."

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"If you want to cut your hair I'm not going to be on your case about it. I think it works as-is though."

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"I don't actually want to cut my hair," he says, amused. "I like it like this. It's fluffy and you keep petting it. It's still strangely soothing."

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Pet pet pet. "I still don't see what's so strange about it."

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Again, he laughs. "I never thought I would like it, so it's strange to."

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Pet, pet, pet.

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