[Next time, of course. Becoming used to next times is part and parcel for life here in Trench, admittedly not Palamedes' favorite thing ever. He wishes he could promise there would be no next times, but even the thought feels childish; truth over solace, after all. He nods.]

Equivalent exchange. You don't have to strongarm me; I'm agreeing.

[Now he manages the whole grin, like the suggestion he wouldn't agree is the joke, here. Viktor getting into danger because of him is obviously less than ideal? Still, he's always been prone to dramatic declarations of trust and working together, so in some ways this feels... inevitable, in a comfortable way.

The inevitable danger not so much... they'll deal with that when it comes.]

I don't disagree, [he says, looking over at the tether and what's become of it for a moment before his focus swings back to Viktor. Much as he's glad to see it go, there is something viscerally unsettling about watching a Viktor-shaped thing crumble in real time. Eugh.] I couldn't stop being Sixth if I tried.

[He shrugs; he can and has angrily denied some other bizarre, garbage aspects of the Nine Houses just these past few weeks alone, but the Sixth? Being a necromancer, with a cavalier? Some things are simply integral, indeed.

After a moment he shifts to sink back into the couch, just kind of- assuming Viktor will lean back with him, ahem. The tether is on its last, er, silver bits, Viktor has eaten his sandwich; they're entitled to a moment of peace.]

Thanks; I'll dedicate my prison novel to you. [Hmm. A beat.] It's easier to sublimate regret into nostalgia, isn't it? I could paint over the ugly parts and say, no; this me is the freshly improved version, ignore the rest... but the ugly parts would still be there.

[Truth, solace, etc. Maybe he's looked at the tether for too long.]

Well. You know?