daemonized | RECOLLE IC CONTACT.

i'll explain in person.

[that's all she'll text before she shows up, curiously wearing a jacket in the summer weather. she's not happy about it, but it's the better to slide under the radar, and she has the hood up, tugging it so it stays forward.

please don't let her melt in the heat. she's not Ardyn, she has no standard of reference for too many layers.]

[Well, he might as well take that as a "no", then. Worry knits in his brow, but he'll not text her again until she arrives.

And when she does, Ardyn is... surprised. He'll let her in, and when they're standing in the living room, the law professor looks briefly confused as he glances over her attire. A jacket, in this weather? And a hoodie?

Grell, do you think you're him, or something?]

Grell... Why are you wearing a jacket in this weather?

[The most ironic thing he's ever said, probably. Still, he's leaning forward a bit and tilting his head curiously, to get a better look at her face from being obscured by that hoodie. This would be amusing if not for how... worrying this all seems to be?]

Because I woke up after having another of those dreams, and Retrospec did this.

[to punctuate the last word, she whips off the jacket in a way that's only gifted to those who really need to make a point, and when she does, what's different is immediately clear. her hair's gone a true red, and it's longer than it was before, shown when she practically rips the tie out of her hair to let it down.]

They changed me again.

[This is a serious moment, isn't it? And in a serious moment, Ardyn doesn't expect the theatrics to flare to soaring heights; he expects for them to be curtailed for the sake of the conversation, for the tone to remain worryingly somber.

He's so wrong.

He can't blame her, of course. Changes are worthy of irritation, and irritation usually unearths one's natural tendencies -- in this case, to dramatically remove one's jacket and to undo one's hair in nothing short of an agitated flourish.

Ardyn is, briefly, speechless.]

...

[...Because that hair, that scarlet red, is utterly striking. Doubly so since it wasn't what he was expecting, and he takes a moment to stare, eyes going wide as it frees itself from its tie, tumbling down around her. He knows she's offended by the change, that Retrospec would have the gall to do so (and to have another "dream", too), but Ardyn can't help but look.... impressed. Or rather, affected in a way that obviously isn't as offended as she is.

The red suits her, makes her even more beautiful than before. If Ardyn was attracted to Grell prior, he's a lost cause now. rip ardyn forever.]

You... ah.

[WORDS. Sorry, Grell. Probably not what she wanted to hear, but she caught him off-guard and he's still recovering.]

It's striking. It suits you.

[that's not the point, Ardyn, not at all, though it does cut the edge off her upset. but she can't help the look she shoots him, one that is halfway between asking him really? and declaring that it was the principle of the thing.]

More than my hair before? It was fine! It didn't need to change! And without a single warning, without even a note to indicate it. The least we deserve is a single text to alert us or something like that and-

[gesturing with her hands isn't enough, and she exhales hard.]

I might need to cut it.

[it's summer, she doesn't need more hair to tie up.]

[More than my hair before? Now, that's a dangerously unfair question, Grell. And Ardyn is wise enough to know when such questions need to be sidestepped in the most graceful way possible.]

Now than, that isn't what I said. You're putting words in my mouth.

[Note how he doesn't extrapolate further on what he actually meant. A concession instead:]

I'm merely stating that if you must deal with this new change, at least look at it from a positive point of view: it's a passionate red color, and it makes you look even more stunning.

[Obviously he's still failing on this "being angry at Retrospec for her sake" thing.]

I don't think there's any need to cut it. It's an elegant length. You don't think so?

[some of that is true, it is a good shade of red, and not something ghastly or boring. the compliments do mollify her, and her expression softens from being irritated to more a resignation. it's easy to placate her like this.]

...I was referring to the fact that my hair's now even longer in the height of summer, and I'll have to figure out how to properly care for it if I keep it. But I'm glad it's something that fits.

[she'll. deal. if she's really more pretty like this.]

[Placation's worked, then, what with the compliments he's given her. He doesn't consider it particularly sly, either, since he meant every word of what he said.]

I can't say that I relate. [The current length of Ardyn's hair is the longest he's ever had it. Yes, he can imagine how much of a hassle hair of her length might be, but at the same time--]

However, I can't imagine it'll take that much more effort to keep it looking as breathtaking as it is now. A bit of extra brushing maybe, and even I'll offer to help you with that from time to time. If you like.

[look, he just. likes her hair a lot now okay.]

If you truly mean that, then I won't cut it.

[since it's a sweet offer he's making. and he's calling it breathtaking, which is helping.]

It still showed up this morning though. No sign of anything else changed.

I wouldn't lie.

[He offers her a grin and makes a vague motion for her to sit on his couch. They might as well have a conversation sitting down, after all.]

Truer red color or otherwise, I'm glad that you didn't wake up to a bevy of changes -- only one.

[And... while Grell decides whether or not she'd like to sit, Ardyn just decides to disappear down a hallway. He'll be back a few seconds later with a brush in hand.

He wasn't kidding, apparently.]

Though you did mention a dream?

[she sits, barely having time to wonder where he went before he returns with a brush - so he actually did mean the part about brushing her hair. she'll certainly allow it, if he wants, and she turns slightly so it's easier to reach her hair when she starts talking.]

There was a dream. I didn't recognize the place, but there were two people in front of me. I recognized them both - they were in other remembrances I've had. Back then, they weren't that important, but now they were. A tall man in pitch black, and a child with one eye.

[Ardyn takes a seat directly next to her, and as she speaks, he begins to brush her hair. It is quite long, but the brush runs through it smoothly. From here, he can appreciate the color even more closely while listening.]

And what made them important now, when they were not before?

Because I was introducing myself to them. Dropping some sort of disguise, feeling like it was pointless to pretend and hide my face, talking to the man - I called him Sebastian. I've never met a person with that name before now.

[she's good at keeping still, at least. the brush is taking away the tangles of a regular day.]

But it wasn't his real name. He said he was only Sebastian at present, because it was a name he was given. I can tell you right now he isn't in Recolle.

Edited 2017-06-20 05:28 (UTC)

[The movements of the brush are rhythmic and slow, and even a bit relaxing in its repetitiveness. He only hopes that the feeling is a mutual one, exerting calm despite the conversation at hand.]

Sebastian. It is a very singular kind of name.

[Says the man named Ardyn.]

What sort of disguise was it? Do you remember? It all sounds very cloak-and-dagger, and I can't help but wonder what the point of hiding was in the first place.

Different glasses, somehow hiding my hair under a different color, wearing different clothes, and acting in a way to hide my true self. It felt freeing to discard it all, like I'd wanted to get rid of it for a long time. I don't know for sure, all I know is that I felt relieved, amused...curious, even. And...I may know why I was wearing it, but it's very much an assumption.

[sitting here like this, she does feel a lot calmer, though whether that's because of his presence or the hair brushing is up in the air. it lets her dissect the dream into pieces to look over, picking up each one as its own puzzle piece.]

He said that I "should have stayed neutral." Whatever that's supposed to mean.

That implies that there were sides to be taken, I think.

[Which of course cannot be proven, but easily implied. Still, there's no way of knowing, and he just continues to brush her hair, appreciating the color red reflecting in the light of the living room.]

Is that the assumption? Or are you referring to something else?

My assumption is that I for whatever reason forsook my neutrality in such a way that it was a problem, leading me to need to hide my face to not suffer dire consequences.

[she remembers the flat scorn in his tone, how he'd seemed less a man than made of stone.

then again, he wasn't a man at all.]

...You know how you asked me about magic? Well, as much as I'd like to dismiss certain other things as mere legends, I find myself on the verge of saying something completely ridiculous, if not for us knowing that magic is real.

I called that man, Sebastian, a demon. And I didn't mean it as an insult, only a statement of fact. I think he actually was one.

[demons existing. it's a strange concept, isn't it. when one could heal with a touch and the world lost color, perhaps not so much, but still.]

[He listens attentively enough. Idly, he wonders what sort of disguise this past Grell would've worn to have hidden herself for the sake of doing away with neutrality. The narrative, as always, grows in its complications.

His movements falter slightly, however, when she says that the man named Sebastian was a demon. A literal demon, she must mean. His hand comes down briefly, to rest on his lap, along with the brush.]

Not a human man, but a literal demon. [A reiteration to be clear.] How did you know? Was there a way to tell?

[A demon that looked like a man in black. He supposes after everything else, it isn't so farfetched.]

He had a good disguise, but...I just knew. Like there was something different in the air around him, in his eyes. I could look at him and know he was something apart from humanity - demonic, and the only way I likely knew that was by encountering such creatures before. Another assumption of mine.

[but it didn't feel so far off base. what kind of life was that, then, that she's supposed to infer?]

[Creatures. Ardyn supposes that it's as good of a descriptor as any.]

So if you were able to tell a difference, I wonder if that meant that demons were a common occurrence, wherever it was you were from.

[He briefly "hmms".]

That, or for some reason or another, you were intimately familiar with them.

Were you intimidated? To be faced with a demon? You didn't sound like it, but doesn't such a creature imply a certain sort of power?

[she's quiet for a second, considering.]

No. I knew what he was. And he was...contained, in a sense. Controlled. Connected somehow to the child.

Beyond that, I felt confident enough to handle him. No doubt in my mind at all.

[His brows furrow at that, though she can't see it at this angle.]

"Handle"? As in what? Fight?

If necessary.

[she already knows she fought in past recollections. that might be where part of the confidence came from.]

[Well, yes. But it seems that a demon would be a tier above what she might have mentioned fighting before. Though... that's an assumption of his, based on the myth and lore of this world. Maybe the rules apply differently wherever she had been from.]

Just how skilled of a fighter were you, Grell?

[Ardyn actually sounds mildly impressed.]

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