daemonized | RECOLLE IC CONTACT.

[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.]

[a little shrug. that's a question she can't even begin to truly answer.]

If I'm patient, maybe we'll find out. Hopefully in the form of memories that remind me how incredible I was and still could be.

[one can hope.]

Maybe I should think about training to be able to fight again.

Training?

[He can't help it. A default eking of concern tinges his words. Please don't get yourself hurt, Grell.]

How so? Do you intend to pick up a wooden sword and hope that something returns?

If I'm going to do that, I'm going to do it at the training that's been scheduled for us all, the one that Dante organized. It's the safest place to try anything - I don't mind saying I'm a complete beginner. Don't worry.

[beat.]

A sword is very different from the weapon I remember, though.

[you know. the chainsaw.]

Edited 2017-06-21 01:30 (UTC)

[He scoffs a little at that.]

Well, you certainly won't be training with a chainsaw.

[Because no?? Unsafe???]

And I know you don't need me to tell you this, but be careful. I know it's the safest place to try one's skills -- or perhaps unlock a memory or two -- but there's still a vein of unpredictability in it all. You never know what might awaken.

[In terms of even stranger, more perilous abilities.]

[though he can't see it from this angle, she's smiling.]

If things awaken, then at least I'll be surrounded by people who will understand what's going on. But...your concern's appreciated. I promise I won't push myself too hard or run unnecessary risk.

[because she can already tell that if she didn't go and say this, he'd end up worrying or something like that. it's just fight club, it can't be that bad.]

[That's right, he would end up worrying. Even with the promise if being careful, he's still going to worry a little. As much as the "fight club" had been a good idea, a stage for those struggling with their skills to practice control, it's the unpredictability of their own talents that actually worries him. He hadn't been lying about that.

But at the same time, she's her own woman; she has final say regarding whether or not she wants to pick up a wooden practice sword (though not a chainsaw) and see if she can learn to spar. To duel, even. It seems... fittingly dramatic, in a slightly funny way.]

Then as long as you promise, there's little else I can say. Just know that if you do hurt yourself, what I said before remains true: I will be healing you, Grell. Non-negotiable.

[He grins to himself at that, picking up the brush again and beginning to undo any lingering tangles in her hair. There are very few left at this point.]

Besides-

[...But whatever it is he was going to say, the words seem to dissipate. Or rather, they cut off completely, flooded with silence instead, the way people do when they've been unduly interrupted by something they can't quite understand at that moment in time.

The brush practically stop in its place, as Ardyn remembers something -- a dawning realization that he wasn't quite prepared for (are they ever?), and it's enough to freeze him in his spot as the recollection flashes before him. It lasts but only a few seconds, though it feels infinitely longer than that.

Sorry, Grell. He's a little distracted and not finishing that thought.]

[the seconds, the severity, something's wrong and Grell turns around, concern clear on her face. he's not the type to cut off his thoughts, at the most he lets them fade out.]

Ardyn?

[what's happened. what's suddenly changed in the world?]

Edited 2017-06-21 04:13 (UTC)

[Her voice is enough to pull him out of his unwanted reverie, and when Ardyn looks at her, it appears as if he's still trying to sort something out in his head. But he's cognizant to have realized, now, how still he's become. He makes an effort to put his hand down, and to let the brush lie beside him on the couch.]

I... remembered something.

[Start... plainly, then. Memories have rushed to him before; this is nothing new. But to have done so in the presence of Grell threatens to make him feel self-conscious. There's a vulnerability in being hit with a recollection all at once, having it force its way into one's mind. A tidal wave crashing upon the shore.]

Daemons. Wherever I had been from, it had them as well. [A hand to his face, pinching at the bridge of his nose.] But unlike yours, they did not look like men. The monsters I remembered, the very first time a memory invaded my head... they were not monsters. They were daemons, Grell.

[Why now, Retrospec? Damnable company.]

[wait, let him sort out what's there. she nods once to let him know she heard him, but she pauses to give him a little room. there's a vague thought in her head that if the one she knew was not contained, would they have been some monster as well. something to contemplate when sleepless.]

Daemons. Meaning not just some frightening and dangerous creatures, but something more malicious?

[she's throwing out a guess. the name's important, if he couldn't remember it. and any type of demon/daemon is usually supposed to bear some evil in them.]

I believe so... yes.

[Ardyn frowns fully now, unable to help it. Those tonberries he remembered, they have a different sort of context surrounding them altogether. No longer does he think them cute, if a bit dangerous.

Now-- there's something infinitely more tragic there. Silence lingers for a moment, then he lifts his gaze to look at Grell directly. His expression is a bit inscrutable.]

You remember, of course, that I said I wandered the land, healing the sick. That there was something particularly potent, something that caused tremendous pain -- a disease. And that I took this illness into myself to heal them?

[Where's he going with this?]

I do.

[he's implying something. her eyes widen a little as an idea comes to mind, but she keeps her tone even.]

Were the daemons the ones that caused that illness?

[it would explain why it was so widespread, so painful. something innately wrong in origin. and then him, taking in all of the pain, trying desperately to aid who he could.]

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