EL NYSA IC INBOX.

[daemonized]

ardyn izunia.

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[valcurie]

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?

[daemonized]

[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.]

[valcurie]

( 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. )

[daemonized]

[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.]

[valcurie]

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}. )

[daemonized]

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.