( Alex keeps listening... slowly lifting her eyebrows. She won't lie: this sounds a lot like her what, five years ago? Or more. Very much when she was in high school, not that she can't be reckless now, but there's something just so innately teenager that for a moment, strangeness aside, this also feels incredibly familiar. )

For that matter, I'm also a fighter who avoids trying to get messed up while making sure everyone else doesn't get messed up. I don't want to see you hurt anymore than you want to see me hurt, right?

( Will this logic fly. She tries to remember if it would have with her, and she thinks so? Then again, as a teenager, she'd been on the path to joining the Hunter's Association, not already a self-proclaimed fighter in any codified sense. )

And it's not a split skull I'm worried about — concussions are worse long term, and you can get one of those no matter how hard your head is.

( As... someone... has told her before. Alex reflects that this says something about her own stubbornness, but decides now isn't the time or place for extended reflection, and lets the thought float away on the wind. )

How about we compromise? You at least take the goggles?

( Logic: he's already stated his innate belief in the hardness of his head, but protecting the eyes could mean lessened chances of injury through heightened visibility. Right? Somewhere in the multiverse, Zayne is sighing with great depth of feeling right now. )