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"Just a minute," Jordan's voice came from inside, and there was a brief rustling around in the room before he opened the door. He'd been painting the repaired wall, it seemed; he was wearing old clothes, paint spattered, and wiping his hands. The room smelled of fresh paint, though the window was open. "Oh, hey Melvin. What's up?"

"I was just finishing up. It's fine, as long as you don't mind paint smell," Jordan said. "Come on in." He went back over to where the tray of paint stood and lifted the roller out to pour the small amount left back into the can before closing it up.

"Yeah, it wasn't entirely unlivable but it was pretty trashed." Jordan took the paint roller over to the sink to rinse it out. "I've still got some shopping to do to replace stuff."

"Thanks," he said, with a slightly sheepish smile. "He's complaining about paint on him right now, but I'd much rather be hearing the complaining, you know? How's Saliva?"

"Huh. I wonder what she perceived. Ferros doesn't remember much past those first three days." Jordan finished washing the roller and set it down in the sink to scrub at his own hands, washing paint off the skin and paying careful attention to getting it off the ring. "Whatever it was that made them fade, I don't believe it was their fault. Ferros wouldn't leave if he had a choice about it." He sounded absolutely certain of that assertion, a simple and solid faith in the words.

He dried his hands off and turned to lean against the sink, considering the question. "We started the process of getting closer because we noticed that it made us better at our job. Being closer makes us better able to respond as a team in combat, guiding what we're both doing and making quicker decisions. It became reflexive after a while. I didn't realize that there was the possibility that I'd have trouble without him until the first time it happened, to be honest." He shook his head a little. "I don't know if it would have changed our decision. Impossible to say. It's hard to remember what it was like before."

"I feel like we're the odd ones out. I haven't met a lot of hunters who are really close to their weapons. We're lucky, maybe; we got along well from the beginning, and with the way we train, it wasn't hard to make it into a kind of mutual meditation that brings us together." Jordan shook his head. "I've met a few hunters who were actively at odds with their weapons. They always seem strained."

"It's always strange to be alone in my head now. I handle it better when he's in a golem; I know that's coming, so I can brace for it, and it doesn't last long. I don't think I'd go nonfunctional immediately again if we ran into a circumstance where we were separated for a while. That happened, once," and he sounded rueful. "But I hadn't known before then that it was possible, so it was a pretty big shock."

Jordan nodded. "I've gotten so used to sharing my thoughts and having Ferros's perspective to balance us out. When he's not there, it's like shouting into a void and having nothing come back to me. Unsettling at best. Vulnerable, yeah. Almost human again."

He leaned back against the counter, offering a small, wan smile. "I appreciate the concern. I don't think it's reversible now, though, and I wouldn't know how to go about trying. Any time the weapons are gone, we're going to be in a vulnerable position anyway."

"Thank you," Jordan said, and gave Melvin a small, warm smile, genuinely grateful for the offer of assistance. "We'll try not to need it, but if we do."

"For all that there's a lot of differences between the worlds, there's similarities, too. But fair point, and I don't have any way of knowing how it goes between you. I'm not the one in your head. Your judgement call." He laughed at the idea of Melvin letting Saliva take control. "That would be ... something, anyway."