Rikive turned to face Parael when he emerged from his closet, pulling her hair out from the back of the dark brown leather motorcycle jacket. She grinned despite the grave situation, Parael always managed to get her to laugh with his antics. “Thou art...ridiculous.” She chuckled, tugging down the hem of the black tanktop she had put on. The smell of leather was a comforting one, though she knew that the jacket was no replacement for proper armor. At least she was wearing pants now, much more appropriate for fighting. 

“We are at war, not going to one of those...places with the deafening music and wild humping of dancers.” She said, making a face at the thought of such places. “Why is it bad if he were to know what you are?” She asked, pulling her hair back from her face and running her fingers through it before starting to braid it. 

“If you were to...come out of ‘retirement’ as you have called it, would you not be powerful enough to turn him to dust?” Her braid finished she tied it in place with a ribbon she got from one of the shirts Parael threw at her. Rikive placed her hands on her hips, a frown on her fair face. 

In some ways it was frustrating that Parael refused to come to his full power as the ancient being he was. If he did this whole mess would be over and done with all the more sooner. Though she was the daughter of a Norse god and a Light Elf, she was still rather young and not nearly as powerful as either of her parents or Parael could potentially be. 

Her attention shifted to the sound of someone banging upon the front door, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword. Of course an enemy wouldn’t likely knock, but she was on edge and didn’t want to take chances. “I will answer it.” The conversation on the topic wasn’t over for her and when they were alone again she would bring it up.