Without thinking about it, his skin hardens at the punch and he barely feels it, making him realize it isn't only when he has fear for his safety, such as when he'd lost footing in a tree. Something he doesn't want to talk about and is glad only Hawke knows about.
"I say because dear old Greenie is perhaps the most honest person we know, and so there's no way you did him more correctly by his very nature," he teases, though after recent incidents, pains he's been through in actually allowing his heart to soften towards another, he more understands her affection for the man, and why it inevitably will lead to their marriage.
He pauses though, nose wrinkling as he considers something.
"Oh dear God. You'll be having children. I already feel old for my future self dealing with that," he says, fighting hard not to smirk at her.
Nodding though at the question. "All scrub colors mean something. Green allows your skin to harden, and to do the same for those around you. Protects you from harm. Yellow lets you blast a hole in things, apparently. Or so I've heard from a darling lady I know named Hawke. I don't think we'd worked that all out before to know what blue might mean," he says, not thinking about how that sounds. "But I know a few I can ask, though I don't think any other assassin wears blue."
Even as he speaks, he holds up his arm where the device is, vibrant green against the black of his coat.
Grinning at that laugh though, shaking his head. "I am not kidding. This place... I have no idea how it works, and I'm not happy about this because there must be a reason for it, but they have brought together many assassins that never should be in the same place. Names even I recognize and know," he says, almost self deprecating. "And with them came Leonardo. Delightful man," he says, smirking because he met him first. "I've already told him about you," he admits.
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"I say because dear old Greenie is perhaps the most honest person we know, and so there's no way you did him more correctly by his very nature," he teases, though after recent incidents, pains he's been through in actually allowing his heart to soften towards another, he more understands her affection for the man, and why it inevitably will lead to their marriage.
He pauses though, nose wrinkling as he considers something.
"Oh dear God. You'll be having children. I already feel old for my future self dealing with that," he says, fighting hard not to smirk at her.
Nodding though at the question. "All scrub colors mean something. Green allows your skin to harden, and to do the same for those around you. Protects you from harm. Yellow lets you blast a hole in things, apparently. Or so I've heard from a darling lady I know named Hawke. I don't think we'd worked that all out before to know what blue might mean," he says, not thinking about how that sounds. "But I know a few I can ask, though I don't think any other assassin wears blue."
Even as he speaks, he holds up his arm where the device is, vibrant green against the black of his coat.
Grinning at that laugh though, shaking his head. "I am not kidding. This place... I have no idea how it works, and I'm not happy about this because there must be a reason for it, but they have brought together many assassins that never should be in the same place. Names even I recognize and know," he says, almost self deprecating. "And with them came Leonardo. Delightful man," he says, smirking because he met him first. "I've already told him about you," he admits.