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Isabella nods.

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"I love you," he assures, quietly. "And we have - projects to work on in the meanwhile. So it's not like we won't be doing anything."

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"Yes, but I'm sort of worried there are more Bells in states somewhat more urgent than 'already dead' who could benefit from help..."

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Wince. "True, we can - check?"

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"Realistically, sweetie, if you find more I'm going to want to pay them visits regardless of whether they're in dire straits at that moment or not."

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He laughs, a little. "Fair enough. More methods to - figure out what we're jumping into before we go, though?"

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"Yes. Lots of prep. Second portal bag. Maybe anchor the next search on female Zevianas on the assumption they'll have Adarins, and see if that entices her to join us on the trip so there's emergency mana to be had."

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Nod. "Agreed. I - know you don't like him, but my older alt could do the same. As an extra battery."

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"He can work off his debt to society," mutters Isabella. "Well, no, that's not fair, I imagine society owes him, but his debt to us."

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"Yeah. Just a bit."

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Snuggle.

"On the - bright side. We can probably raid his library. Once my magic's back."
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"Oh, that will be nice."

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"Very. Part of me is tempted to get nerdy about the shield he used. Morbid as that is."

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Snuggle. He looks pensive, but doesn't say what's on his mind.

He misses his magic. He feels naked without it.
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"At some point we're probably going to have to discuss the thing we are presently not saying out loud."
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"Yeah," sighs her husband. "Should - that be now, or do we wait?"

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"Well - certainly it shouldn't occur now, the conversation - I don't know."

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"I meant the conversation," he winces, paling a little. "Not - that."

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Isabella squeezes him.

"Maybe not out in public, it'd sound weird. We could go back to your terrible alt's house and I can send him to sleep and then we can - talk."
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Adarin nods. "Yeah. We should - probably also start going by the nicknames, actually. We picked them out and haven't used them once."

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"Well, you and I have them, but Iobel and Edarial don't and neither does your terrible alt."

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"Yeah, and my terrible alt's the one who really needs it - we should ask when we're done with lunch."

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Isabella nods. "Any guesses what he'll pick?"

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