“........................................huh.”

It turns out there is no amount of training, no amount of present peril, that can quite withstand the shock of suddenly being offered a free Assassin to take home with you. True, he had just prayed for her, but he was well resigned to holding a quiet, forlorn hope for some distant future, and only wished for some small token of comfort in the meanwhile. 

This sort of thing happened, sometimes, in the stories. Somebody makes a prayer, a god appears, and they choose to make an entirely different offer instead. Does this mean he has some god’s attention? For what, exactly? He’s hardly done anything recently, beyond fill out paperwork, sit on a shuttle, and follow strict walking directions. Odd, definitely odd. And a little worrying. Because…[color=9e0b0f][s]he musn’t know he musn’t know he mustn’t know[/s][/color] well, it just is. 

“That is. Quite the offer.” He looks to 20022. He looks past 20022. He looks to the Emissary, still lost in relief. No one here is a friend he can rely on. The decision is his. 

But no matter the peril, this much is true; Dolce is a sensible sheep.

“Well, I did say I don’t know very much about Assassins,” he continues, speaking directly to the glowing eye. “Other than the job title, and that I’d really rather not be killed by one, if I can help it. Not [i]just[/i] me, I also wouldn’t like it if she tried to kill other people along the way. So, you see…” He wrestles with various degrees of unstoppable, comparative safety, and the difference in scale between a sheep and a machine intelligence, before finally shaking his wooly head. “Oh, let me put it like this: Is there a way to keep that from happening? At least a little reliably?”

It’s not a yes. But he is taking a seat at the table (metaphorically, the real one is being disassembled as they speak) and shows no sign of leaving just yet.

Yes, it’s dangerous. Yes, it’s risky. Yes, he doesn’t expect an easy answer here. But what else can he do? It’s no good holding a wish in your heart, and then balking when the gods offer to grant it beyond your wildest hopes.

So. He’s at least got to ask. It’s the sensible thing to do.