"A mystery destination that's dangerous an' miserable and ye have no details about where or for how long?" Fuckin' Nate. Kiernan sat on a stool in their fairly-Midgardian kitchen and looked over Ronan's already-miserable form. He didn't need dragging down, the man needed lifting up. He'd gone through a terrible ordeal within the last few days and Kiernan had already been worried after his younger brother. Now Mars was voluntarily heaping it on.
"I know ye feel like shit - like gettin' away from yer problems. But for fuck's sake - go back home. Earth is just the right amount of terrible." The elder Murphy watched Ronan some more and sighed. "She's doing okay," he said of Gael, surprisingly enough. "But if ye leave and don't come back, I dunno how that wouldn't drive her even more mental. Are ye sure ye wanta wander aimlessly into Nate Zale's land of makebelieve?" Of course the stupid wizard had been dodging Kiernan's telepathic advances all day...