We're Not Making The Ring A Grenade Pin This Time, Mags

"Yeah, I think we can do that." Caelynn smiles. If she picks up on the thoughts her fiancé had just inwardly chided himself for, she doesn't seem to remark upon them beyond a slight quirk of the brow. "I like 7/7, it has a nice ring to it. And hey, maybe some of the luck will rub off on us? As for a ring, well... I'm sure we can think of a few clever symbolic things to work with for that." The doctor steps back, leaning against a shelf that could use a nice dusting next time they have someone down here before flinching, regretting the touch of cold metal and using an arm to prop herself against it.

"I assume we probably don't want to go with diamonds, yeah? Maybe a band of silver for both of us? Could go with an amethyst for a gem if we want." Purple would fit as a unifying color for both of them, really, between the robes and her eyes. Might come across as less Magtok-centric than you'd expect at first glance. "Then, once we have a plan set for us... well, there's still time to get the tabloids all up in a stir if that really suits your fancy." She grins.