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"I'll come with you, then!"
Such a terrible idea. A horrible, terrible, no-good idea that absolutely nothing beneficial could come of.
The way the Warrior of Light bounds up to Nero in the absolute dead of night, as if she's known his plans to quietly steal away the moment the Crystal Tower business had been done and dusted from the beginning. There was more to see, more to do, more toys waiting to be discovered.
Scaeva expresses as much in fewer, cruder words as Fantasia badgers, pokes, and otherwise makes his hasty packing an utterly intolerable endeavour.
That's when she says it.
"I'll come with you, then!" She chirps, hip cocked, arms folded.
"And do what, pray tell? Rage like a clumsy behemoth through a gaggle of lalafell? I'm more than able of taking care of myself - you, however, are sorely lacking in anything even remotely resembling subtlety or finesse."
Fantasia purses her lips, almost childishly. It would be an endearing look were the same visage not coupled irrevocably with the image of the selfsame Warrior doing her absolute damndest to cleave him in twain at the waist during their skirmish in the Praetorium.
Nero sets his face sternly to conceal the brief flash of fear and continues.
"The very last thing I need is a little-miss goodie two-shoes hampering my efforts at every morally questionable turn."
When he looks back up at her from where his busy hands make quick work of the task at hand, he senses, perhaps, by the thunderous expression she wears, that Nero just may have offended her. Shite.
"You really do believe that, don't you? That I'm a purehearted saint, or somesuch similarly stupid shite."
Nero frowns in response.
"I wouldn't be asking after Nero bloody Scaeva as a travelling companion for the sake of a wholesome orphan-feeding-stray-puppy-saving adventure. You must be dumber than I thought to pass up a chance to study the... what was it, hero of the savages?"
Nero straightens indignantly, immediately taking the bait. He draws a sharp breath for a biting retort that quickly dies in his throat as a frustrated growl as he realises that she has a point.
A long-suffering sigh. Nero's shoulders sag slightly in defeat.
"Then help me pack up. You'd best pull your weight, Warrior, you'll see no free rides from me as the others do. I've plans and paths and routes and you will not drive us off course with your frivolous... side questing."
Fantasia, to her credit, was no longer listening, and had already thrown herself into aiding the hasty departure from the expedition team's camp. She feels a pang of guilt, not bidding farewells to either Cid nor the rest of the Ironworks team, but adventure waited neither for man nor lady, and Nero's infuriatingly long graceful legs are not waiting for her comparatively stunted scaly ones.
No waiting no matter how many profanities she spouted, apparently. Nero simply grins.
