daemonized | RECOLLE IC CONTACT.

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.]

Yes and no.

[That heavy weight in his chest, something painfully carried -- at least now he knows why it felt like such a terrible burden to bear.]

It was what transformed men and women into daemons. That was why I had made it a point to travel so extensively, I think. To stop all of... that.

[Ardyn wishes, though, that he could remember what it was called. It flits at the edge of his memory, the name. How frustrating.]

Ardyn...

[no wonder he was so driven, despite the cost to himself. saving them from becoming any of that. the concept is stunning in its gravity, and Grell gently puts a hand on his arm. it seems like the sort of thing that requires a bit of comfort, silent support while you grapple with how much you must have gone through.]

You had to have been saving them.

[enough to stop all of it? who can say. but he had been trying.]

[Saving them? He would hope so, and maybe it shouldn't be so surprising to him. If he were honest to himself, would he not attempt to do the same thing now? If daemons were such things that existed, if people felt that kind of pain. At the price of... what? His own well-being?

Of something crystallizing within him. That darkness.]

...I tried, at least.

[A hand coming up to rub at the stubble on his chin, a very fleeting sort of anxious tell. He drops it, letting his touch settle on her own hand. He forces flippancy into his tone.]

At least it's good to know of its purpose, hm? [His healing, he means. But let's turn this thing around, shall we? He can mull over his uncertainties when he's not in the company of someone else; especially someone he doesn't wish to worry. In the past, he's had the advantage of being able to think before telling anyone else. It's different this time.] But I've gone and turned this into something about myself. Please... I'm far more interested in your recollections, Grell. How very rude of me to interrupt.

Edited (i stg........yells about typos ) 2017-06-21 20:34 (UTC)

[there's a pause where she simply looks at him for half a second. being flippant is too obvious, and she nearly says something before deciding that no, she'll simply look for a moment to flip it back around. if not now, then later.]

One doesn't choose when remembrance makes its entrance.

[and she doesn't mind if it turns into talking about him.]

But, if you still consider my recollections important...there are two other things I can take from the strange conversation I dreamt of. One being that for my disguise, I undertook the role of a servant. It supports the idea of me truly trying to hide, but it still raises more questions.

[Don't give him that look, Grell. He's totally not purposefully flipping the conversation around, unaware that she plans on doing the same to him. This is good, this is Fine.]

A servant for whom?

[That seems to be the next natural line of questioning. Something about Ardyn seems to relax a little since the subject has returned to her own memories instead, sparking curiosity to abate the apprehension.]

Do you remember any other smaller details? How everyone was dressed, for example? You mentioned to me, once, about viewing... dates that were not exactly of the modern era.

[He wonders if the rest of her memories seem to align with this idea.]

A servant for the Burnett family, if what I said was true. Another name I've never heard of. And as for dressed...it was all clothing I'd put in an earlier era. Maybe those dates are connected, somehow.

[she hadn't been considering that, too wrapped up in the change of her hair, but...]

It's something I might have to look into. Clothing wasn't an angle I considered.

Every little detail is another hint towards unraveling the mystery. Even as something as unremarkable as clothing.

[He seems vaguely amused again, in all sincerity.]

Do you by chance remember what you wore? Not while in disguise, I mean.

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