"All right," he says, and sighs, and runs a hand through his hair again -- it's not over her, obviously he thinks what she's doing is important or he would have turned her down, it's just he can't believe he's doing something this stupid again. The Militia is well-funded, well-armed, has access to resources none of them do, likely hugely outnumbers and outclasses them, and is deeply embedded in the political infrastructure of Baedal. They're all probably going to die.

He guesses she's probably aware of that.

"It's fine, thank you, I'm taking care of it." By which he means all aboard the Denial Train, choo choo! Now pulling into Delusional Central Station! He sounds polite and a little sheepish; he doesn't mean to blow her off about it, but the idea itself makes him uncomfortable.

Then again, if he's going to use it for something that actually matters, he should at least figure out what the hell he's doing. It's okay if he sets himself on fire, but not okay if he sets someone else on fire.

While he's at it, he finishes off his beer. When he gets back to Kahnde's, he's going to crack into his hard liquor. Shaking his head, he gestures with the empty bottle. "Um, but -- feel free to call me for whatever you need." He means it, too. If he's going to do this, he's going to commit completely; he can't run away this time.