daemonized | RECOLLE IC CONTACT.

it's faster. injuries healing up sooner than you'd expect.

i don't know if this has been happening for a while. i only noticed the effects about six days ago, and had to make sure it wasn't some fluke.

[Injuries healing up faster? There's a pause before another response comes through; while there are more disconcerting abilities to have been graced with, it's something about the implications of her "making sure it wasn't a fluke" that makes him frown down at his phone.]

Making sure how, Grell?

[a longer pause as she tries to write this down in the least concerning manner possible. there are reasons why she started in secret, after all - she knows how this looks on the outside.]

measuring the progress of how injuries are healing.

[That's a rather fancy way of dancing around it, but Ardyn narrows his focus with his question.]

Meaning that injuries have to be present in order to measure them in the first place, correct?

[why can't she be cryptic about this]

yes, and?

[Really? "And"?

No text response. Only a minute before her phone lights up with Ardyn calling her.]

[for a moment, she debates not picking it up. but she knows that'll only be more concerning, and so she braces herself for whatever's going to be said.]

Ardyn?

[like there's nothing wrong at all.]

[It's true that concern ekes from his tone. It's also true that disapproval can he heard in equal measure.]

Grell. Care to tell me what you've been up to without dancing around the subject? And why you hadn't told me before now?

[He worries, okay. He doesn't expect to be privy to every little detail in her life, but he does expect to know if something as serious as this comes up. As was their agreement before.]

I didn't want to tell until I was more than slightly sure that what I was experiencing was reality. If I made a big deal over nothing, it'd be embarrassing.

[that at least sounds honest, and it is. as much as she loves her dramatics, she doesn't want to have to eat words of that degree. and then there's a beat.]

I've been conducting a few experiments in my free time. Yes, they involve injuries, because that's exactly what I need to observe and measure. And I know how this sounds, but I promise you, it's fine. I wouldn't do anything to myself that I don't know how to handle.

[wow, when she says it out loud, it sounds even worse.]

[No, it doesn't sound any better when said aloud. Something in Ardyn wants to dissect every part of what she had just told him; to illuminate and criticize everything he finds wrong with her reasoning. And yet, though this is talent that comes rather naturally to him, he also knows when to show restraint. This isn't the classroom, after all, and despite his disapproval, he can be straightforward and yet still tactful for her sake. She did mention embarrassment being an issue, and all.

Though because he is reining in his words a little, there's an audible pause before he replies.]

The first time this happened, I can understand. Likely an unexpected accident, I assume. The second? Motivated by a scientific curiosity and a want to comprehend what's changed -- I can hardly fault you for that, either.

More than that, though? [He can only assume there may have been more instances than just two. Feel free to correct him on that.] Unnecessary. Why continue pushing that envelope? Unless you're trying to test your limits?

[He can't keep all the disapproval at bay, but it's because he cares.]

[if he had torn it apart, it would be easier to hold onto the idea of defending herself, bringing up all the logic and thoughts she'd had the past week about this. this careful bringing up of it does more to undermine the confidence she had in the idea - and she's glad Ardyn can't see her face.]

Something like that.

[at least she doesn't sound excited at the prospect.]

How far does this go? How much have I been changed by this? Can I use this information in another way other than knowing something's there? It isn't easy to simply leave those questions unanswered.

[better she do it to herself than someone else walk in with the same thing and the same terrible ideas.

and because she can hear the disapproval in his voice, she tacks on something else as a reflex.]

...I'm sorry.

[Something in her tone of voice causes Ardyn to hesitate. The apology, perhaps, even more so.

And so disapproval slowly makes way for the sympathy that had always been there, like a tide receding. The edge that had been in his tone softens, but not before an exhale can be heard over the line.]

I forgive you, of course. I'm not angry, only concerned because I care for you.

[That should go unsaid -- and yet there are times when it's absolutely necessary to utter such reassurances.]

What happens if you go too far and stumble upon something you can't heal from? The thought is terrifying to me.

[And Ardyn doesn't use the word terrifying very lightly.]

Do you have anything that... needs healing right now? Never mind your experiments.

[In other words, give him a reason to come see her.]

[then I stitch it up and learn to live with it. the answer to that particular question comes frighteningly easy, but she had already considered it before she even began. that at least she has the sense to not say, as he asks another question.

she knows what he means, why he'd ask, and...truthfully she's touched. if she was being perfectly sensible, she'd say she was fine and try to shove everything off until later. that would be the correct thing to do. and yet:]

Yes.

[even if she'll tell him not to, to spare him the pain.]

I'm technically still at work, if you don't mind.

[thankfully, the hospital has signs to direct people. and this is an hour where no one will notice nor care.]

[Of course he doesn't mind. A part of him had half a mind to find her even if she had told him "no", and so it's an almost-relief when he hears the affirmative instead. Only almost, because he hates to hear that she's sporting some type of wound even now. The fact that it's healing faster than normal has no bearing on his concern.

And so he tells her he'll be there straightaway, and Ardyn follows through. She doesn't have to wait long, and the hospital is easy enough to navigate. No one asks any questions, which makes him even more expedient in finding her.]

Where's the injury? [-is the first thing he says to her when he does, drawing near with a frown etched into his features. Eyes scanning over her expression, trying to get an idea of what might be going through her head right this very moment.]

[she's standing at one of the tables, deep in recording her notes when Ardyn finds her, a subsection of the ones she's begun keeping on strange happenings in general and patients. personal reference, in case it comes in handy some day. Grell hears Ardyn come in before she sees him, but she doesn't look up until he's next to her.

when she does, she looks more serious than she usually does, somewhat tense, and she crosses her arms in front of her when he asks.]

If I show you, you'll try and heal it, and it'll cause you pain.

[which she doesn't want. she can bear these for a few days more.]

And?

[What irony that the word is being reflected back at her, when it was him not that long ago who had to endure it. Regardless, the remark is far from being snide. The easy dismissal of his own well-being is sincere and indicative of his worry.

He searches her expression again, setting his jaw. There's stubbornness there, in the both of them, and he's very much aware of it.]

The pain will fade and your wounds will be gone. That's all that matters to me right now.

[A beat.]

At the very least, don't hide from me what it is that you've done to yourself.

...I'll show you. I don't consent to healing yet.

[because as much as she had mentioned him testing things before, the idea of causing him pain through things she was taking full responsibility for didn't sit well with her at all. she can heal from this. no need for him to take it upon himself.

but she pushes up her right sleeve so that he can see the bandages there. only her forearm, and the wounds properly dressed. she was hardly going to make it harder on herself to heal.]

Two cuts, one deeper than the other. They were meant to confirm the fact that the rate of healing is constant, meaning more serious injuries take more time. Meaning that whatever's changed, it's simply been sped up.

[and yes, they had hurt - do hurt - but she's firmly ignoring that part for herself.]

[When she says it like that, that she flat-out hasn't given him her consent to heal, there's little that even his stubbornness can do in the face of it. He'll honor her wishes, but already his mind is stringing together words into sentences that might convince her otherwise. The pain won't be that bad for me or It'll be done quickly or It's important that I do this for you, because it's all I can do.

None spill out when she shows him her forearm, wrapped neatly in bandages. A hand reaches to gently take her wrist and pull it close to him, the other rests at the bottom of her elbow; Ardyn is lifting her arm up so that he can examine it more closely, even if he can't really take measure of the wounds. He can only imagine the two cuts that she describes.]

It must hurt. [His gaze lifts to meet hers.] Please let me be of some use to you.

[He can implore her for now. Later, he'll worry about reiterating how bad of an idea this was.]

Edited 2017-05-26 06:58 (UTC)

[it should be enough, shouldn't it, to see the bandages there. tell her that she's foolish for doing this, get her to promise to not do it more than this, but showing it like this means I'll take care of it. she's handling it. she has crazy ideas, but she'll be fine. everyone can rest easy and not have to unnecessarily stress about something not that important.

and yet. and yet she can tell in Ardyn's look that it's not truly like that, and if she insists on shouldering it, it'll be more drawn out than actually letting him help would be. which makes this all that much harder, knowing that he came here because it's not enough to simply know that she has it in hand.]

You don't have to do anything to "be of some use" to me.

[she says it softly, but she doesn't look away. it's not about being useful or useless, in her view. Ardyn doesn't have to do anything, other than be himself.

part of being himself, apparently, is this. her resolve cracks like glass. fine, she'll concede, in the face of all of that.]

Does it require direct contact to work?

[In his memories, he had travelled the land, healing the sick and taking into his body whatever it was that ailed them. It was heavy, painful in a subtle kind of way; eating away from within like something acidic, languid and churning and alive. He remembers that he had chosen to shoulder that burden out of endless empathy and a duty that he couldn't remember. Then, he had been willing. Now, when faced with something so much more innocuous in comparison (two cuts on the arm of someone he cared for), his willingness is just as potent. His resolve to help just as unwavering.

It is a part of him now, this ability to heal. It slots quite nicely into that side of his personality that only a few are privy to, the eagerness to help others at his own detriment. (A bleeding heart, indeed.) And so he only shakes his head when Grell states that he doesn't have to do anything to be of use -- it may be true, and she may believe it wholeheartedly, but if Ardyn can do more to ease the pain, then so be it. She only need accept the help that he's so eager to give.]

And yet... I'm not the sort of man to stand by and do nothing.

[Fingertips at exposed skin, just at the edges of her bandages.]

This proximity would be suffice, I think. [It had been in the past, all of twice that he's tried. But he pauses, soon adding:] But I would like to see your wounds as I heal them, just to be sure that it works.

[she nods slowly, pulling her arm back so she can undo the bandages for him. she's agreed, and she keeps her face deliberately neutral as she takes them off, breathing slow to help with the pain that comes with touching near to them. the cuts are neat and straight across, the precision of scalpel incisions and a deep red. Grell's careful, knowing they're new enough that if she's too rough, they could start bleeding again.

it's his last chance to yield to her point of view, to let them heal over in time, because she knows they will. you don't have to do this is again on this tip of her tongue, but she bites it back, trying to allow him to help her like he wants to do.]

[The bandages are carefully peeled away to reveal two even cuts, scarlet red across her skin, and Ardyn's brows pinch together at the sight. All he can think of is how she might have done this to herself, how she might have believed indulging in this kind of experiment couldn't be disconcerting.]

Grell... [An utterance of her name that's mild in its disapproval, drowned out by his concern. His fingers brush against the proximity of the cuts, never so bold as to draw too near -- they still look raw, at least to his relatively untrained eye.

His mind is set at this point, of course. He had explained to her, previously, what it had been like for him to heal his brother, and now she gets to experience it first-hand. The first noticeable sensation is a feeling of warmth where Ardyn touches her -- an easing of the sting of the wounds, spreading in a gentle wave. And then there's the glow, bright and almost iridescent, shining at his hands.

Slowly but assuredly, her skin will begin to mend itself, leaving no signs of scarring. He feels it then; the sting of two clean cuts on his forearm (though he knows nothing is there), pain stinging. He purposefully schools his expression to show nothing, and the only thing that betrays this flowering of transferred pain is the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth.]

[even as he'd described it, nothing truly braces her to see it in real life, to experience it. the warmth washing away the pain, lessening it with every heartbeat. the brightness that strikes her as almost divine in its radiance. and the way the impossible is taking place, and her injuries are mending before her eyes.

the pain leaves, and unconsciously she relaxes, eyes wide in amazement. from bright sharpness to the persistent ache of wounds and now to the relief of nothing. of being whole and healed in the way she was ready to wait for. it's incredible. the only word to describe it is what it is - magic.

but magic that costs, and he may be stoic, but she knows he feels it. whatever she felt, taken into him. I'm sorry, she wants to say, three times over until it's better, able to go and fuss over his well being instead of her own. when it's gone, she looks from her arm to him, and the apology that she feels is written all over her face.]

Thank you.

[for the healing. and for coming to see her in the first place.]

[Even after the magic fades, glow receding and flickering away, his touch lingers. A close examination shows no signs of the cuts that had been there prior, and a twinge of relief filters through his mood upon seeing this. (His arm, it hurts, but he's ignoring it. Blatantly. It's not important right now, and it'll fade soon enough, surely.)]

You're welcome. [He lifts his eyes to look at her, catching nothing short of an apology in her look. Grell doesn't need to wear that expression on her face, he thinks. He had offered to help, and he would offer a hundred times more in the same situation. In a worse situation.

He exhales, letting go of her arm. He should feel more relieved than he is, but something lingers in the atmosphere that disallows it.]

We should talk about this, you know. [The healing done, now the conversation can begin properly. His hand, belonging to the arm that hurts, flexes a little as he speaks.]

If there's a next time you're greeted with another... change, I don't want you hesitating to tell me. That you think I would judge you for overreacting is a misrepresentation of my character. You know I want to help you.

I do know, but...

[she pushes her sleeve back down now that it's all over, straightening out the cuff and keeping her eyes on it for a moment to try and piece together what she wants to say.

it's not about him judging, it's about her wanting to make sure it's something to go to all that effort about instead of something more important. about being able to say she had it handled if she could handle it. what if it had been a fluke? what if she would have been winding not just herself but someone else up for absolutely nothing at all? embarrassing, she had said, and that part was still true. not only in front of him, but in front of everyone. it isn't what she wants to show.]

I didn't want you to have to worry unnecessarily. I wanted to be able to give you fact or a pretty solid hypothesis - something more than a might be, something definite, before I asked for help.

[because that's worthwhile for bringing up in regards to her. then all the effort has a reason.]

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