daemonized | EL NYSA IC INBOX.

And what would that require?

[He has an idea. He's spent enough time in Nif labs, he's added his own knowledge of daemons to have a hand in creating the MTs, that he's not so oblivious to the very thorough requirements of testing.]

A blood sample?

And your consent.

( both are necessary, really. especially since she's come across the concept of blood magic recently. a terrifying notion, just given a description of what it supposedly is capable of. )

Then you have it.

[Let her take his blood, and let her examine the reaction of what daemonic essences and the Starscourge itself might have to her research. There's only so much curiosity he can feign to not have.]

Would you like it now?

( She cocks her head then, almost as if she's got a question about what she's hearing. Here, now? In her residence where she has nothing resembling a lab or proper equipment.

Then, of course, she remembers how easily accessed Thesa is. Even being from a world as technologically advanced as hers, sometimes it is hard to recall just what is possible. )

If you wouldn't mind popping up to the station for a few minutes.

[It was what he had planned -- the fastest and easiest option, probably affording her more reliable equipment than what could be found on terra firma, anyway.

And so he stands, gesticulating in a sort of concession.]

Not at all. A change of scenery would be welcome. I'm ready when you are, Doctor.

All right. Give me a moment to gather my things.

( And she does so: she goes to get her notebook, takes the biotic sample, and disappears for a minute into her room. When she's back, she'll have put on a loose, light-blue sweater and put everything she needs into her leather satchel. )

Ready?

( When they get to where they need to be, it will be a quieter, more intimate bit of the station, a lower ceilinged medbay with a small port window. She seems at ease in this space, and it doesn't take her long to point out a place for Ardyn to sit. It's one of the two beds in the room, with a stool nearby the side. )

[He's brought the vial with him, though he imagines if she has no use for it right now, she can simply take it back later. It's set aside on the nearby stool, and he moves to take the indicated seat. First, though, he's shrugging it off his long coat, for he imagines that's only going to get in the way of getting a proper blood sample from his arm.]

Shall I roll up my sleeve for you?

If you would. Please.

( That last bit is added after something of a pause, as she adjusts something in her hands. They are gloved already. She looks to be opening a packet of stubborn packet of alcohol swaps.

Quickly her eyes to flick up to the phial, then she succeeds in opening what she needs to. She waits for him to present his arm, so to speak. )

You're not afraid of needles, I take it?

[He begins to roll up his sleeve, then, swiftly and neatly. His exposed arm is hilariously something of a rare sight, he's so often covered up by layers of some sort. Still, there it is, ready for a needle to pierce skin whenever she's ready.

He laughs.]

No. I'm not. Though you're thoughtful to have asked.

[There's something very amusing about the mundane nature of that question. Needles. The furthest thing from his mind that he would fear.]

( As she's swabbing down his arm, she takes the opportunity to really look at him when she's speaking to him. Her expression betrays a slight amusement at his comment. It seems like at best it's insouciant praise, a barely felt kindness as a remark to fill up the silence. He dose seem like someone who likes to speak without actually saying much. )

Hardly. I wonder if you'd trust me to do my job if I didn't do something so basic.

( A bit of a huff follows, as she then holds his elbow steady with one hand, and pierces his skin with the needle in the other. It takes at most ten seconds, then she lets him go. )

[He just grins, unresponsive to that for now. He doesn't even move when he's pricked with the needle (it hardly registers at all for him), though Ardyn pointedly also doesn't watch as the syringe fills up with his blood.

Dark, seemingly viscous stuff that it is. She shouldn't be surprised, given what he'd shown her before.]

Is that satisfactory, then?

[He flexes his fingers, though there's no real need for it.]

Yes it is. Thank you. ( For your compliance, she's basically saying. Rather than staring outright at the corrupted something filling up the syringe, she turns away from him then. Though, having noticed how he purposefully didn't look at the dark, black stuff, she has to ask. )

Does the sight of blood make you faint?

(With her back turned to him she starts processing the liquid she pulled from him, marveling at how something like that could be flowing through the veins of someone with a heartbeat {something she assumes he has}. )

Not at all.

[She noticed, of course, the way he would not look at what lies in that vial. Perhaps it's inane, for he's more than aware of what stirs within him; but looking at it as she pulls it out of his body is a stark reminder, empirical and impossible to miss, that he's not sure he needs to indulge himself in.]

Though the thought is an amusing one.

EL NYSA IC INBOX.

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