"You'd think after two thousands years of not being worshiped so much they'd've started to click 'bout what century we're in," said Much, the words slipping out because he was never very good at guarding his tongue, and besides, what he was really holding back was worse.
Or maybe not worse but... not the sort of thing you should ask your boss in the middle of your shift.
What he'd really wanted, but had been trying not to ask, was How the hell can you love someone who you know does terrible things?
Did she know about Luna?
How the fuck did you learn to accept that sort of shit? And still love someone? It made Much feel a little crazy, just thinking about it, like if he tried to think that way he'd be torn in half.