Let me get out front!

"So...let me get this straight."

"I'm listening."

Mythra, to her credit, bit back a strained "I didn't ASK you, ASSHOLE!" with incredibly eloquent aplomb, instead replying with a brief breath and a quiet, "Addam. I'm asking Addam. My Driver." Extra emphasis on the my, thank you very much.

Minoth, to his credit, nodded and stepped back, letting a very nervous-looking (even more by the second) Addam take the stage. If Mythra didn't know better, she'd almost think he looked amused - and she didn't, exactly, know better, so all bets were on him conspiring against her. With Addam, of course.

"What seems to be troubling you, Mythra? I thought we were getting along rather well, but is something the matter?"

"Of course you thought so," she grumbled out.

"What's that?"

Oh, and now they had the concerned looks on - that's right, both of them. Addam's eyebrows were furrowing up and Minoth's eyebrows were hunkering down. They were inseparable, it seemed like, which was the whole freaking problem.

"Look. I've been...your Blade," she got out with an awkward waving motion of her left hand, which felt triply clumsy as compared to its usual heft within her gloves, "for a whole year. Plus! Just you, and me, and Milton, and we were working on me controlling my powers, because I apparently need that so much." She couldn't stop the venom from creeping on that last clause, but whatever.

"But now, all of sudden, right after we run into Lora and crew, not to mention the entire emperor of Mor Ardain and his lame, bitchy attendants, this guy shows up, and I'm yesterday's bagel."

Neither of Mythra's watchful listeners had the heart to point out that no one particularly liked eating her bagels when they weren't day-old, either. And that was coming from the hearty staple food enjoyers in chief - a joint title, of course. You understand.

Addam considered this, nevertheless. There was no need for Mythra to drag out the explanation any further; the mechanism of the issue was quite simple. At length, he ventured, "But isn't it part of being a Blade to know how to switch in and out of combat, not to say resonance, at a moment's notice? It's all about control."

Minoth nodded agreeably - "Sounds about right to me, Prince." - earning him a whale of an eyeroll from Mythra, and some melodramatically tossed-up arms to boot.

"I mean, I guess!" The exclamation was full of spare anonymous vocalizations as the Aegis flailed out her exasperation. "Jin and Haze switch because one of them's a healer and one isn't, and Brighid and Aegaeon switch when one notices the other's footwork failing. Lora and Hugo aren't really part of it, except for the fact that their Blades are protecting them."

Oh, come, come now, Mythra, sharing is caring, don't you know? "And just what do you think I've been doing, Mythra?"

Now Minoth's eyebrows were up, and the scar was dancing in time. He always got like this whenever she started counting heads, and it was more irritating than she knew how to describe. Self-righteous, happy people were annoying, nothing new. Especially self-righteous happy people who actually weren't that happy, if their big potentially-traitorous sob stories were to be believed.

But okay. If he wanted to play this game, she'd play. She let her weight sink back into her left foot, swaggering her hip back along with it. "You? Last time we cleaned up those Gogols near the bridge, you and Addam were fully making out by the time we were done. I had to chase off the stragglers because you two were so...busy."

The only saving grace about the situation had been how distracted the last Gogol had been, almost lurched into its quasi-death throes, by the out-of-place spectacle. It didn't seem to take issue with the coupling, necessarily, but it definitely had been confused.

Addam appeared to be recalling the occasion as well, judging by the increased redness of his face. "Alright, alright, Mythra, I take your point. Minoth can do support, so in future, let's just say you can stay up front the whole time. After all," he gave a remarkably paternal, yet dogged, smile, "whatever we're doing can't be much use if you don't see the usefulness of it."

And speech, and speech, and speech. Whatever. Moralizing. I get it.

"The whole time?"

Addam nodded. "The whole time - upon my honor as the Driver of the-- As your Driver."

"And you'll keep in resonance, the whole time? No slacking off?"

She could hear a distant "Oh, that's rich..." from Milton, but ignored it.

"Blade's honor," Minoth answered for his prince.

"Doesn't exist," Mythra shot back.

But, still, all was well, until the next slog of a battle came along, and Mythra, victim of Addam being all of a sudden way, way too true to his word, was certain she could feel...some trace of...whatever it was that was happening at some distance behind her through the bond that she'd been so foolishly eager to cling to and draw out.

No sooner had her teeth gritted in involuntary response than did she hear, crooned out from afar: "I told you so!"

"Can it, Milton!"