nysa overflow;

[originallutece]

Comments

[daemonized]

Yes.

[It's telling how quickly that answer leaves his lips. Not out of stubbornness, or some silly thing like embarrassment. It is spoken in haste, in assuredness, because it is drawn out from his own experiences. It is the only truth that he knows, that those who claim to help will all disappear, one way or another. Such is the life of an immortal, and before he was immortal, such was the sickening truth regarding those who had pretended to care -- his family, his people, friends that turned away so quickly at the very thought of him twisting into something inhuman. Perhaps if he had even a smallest pillar of support at the time, things would've turned out differently for him, but Ardyn no longer dwells on these what ifs. Only that what happened did happen, and it left an acrid taste in his mouth, let his humanity rot and his heart to turn cruel.

So, yes. It is impossible to believe. He doesn't believe her to be lying, but he has little faith in how long this rather novel idea of hers will last in her head.]

Wayward sentiment will get you nowhere. [The fire in his hand vacillates between flickering bright and waning, indicative of magic just left to burn raw.] But as I said, do what you like.

[originallutece]

[Well, she won't try and convince him with words. She doubts there are any that would do the trick, frankly, and she doesn't blame him. Evidence is the only thing that will work, and to that end . . .

To that end, time will be her ally. But in the meantime, she'll do as she likes, and let those words rattle around his head.]

There's never been a moment in my life where I haven't, Ardyn Izunia.

[But they've ruins to explore. Rosalind strides forward, heading towards the wall. There are runes there, carved into the stone and faded by time; she traces over them gently.]

I don't suppose you've a piece of paper and some pens, hm?

[daemonized]

[Easy enough to move on from the subject when it's already been settled in his mind. In both their minds, apparently, and Ardyn will not argue the point or bring it up again.

So he follows, his strides as even and casual as before. Though at her question, he raises a brow.]

What do I look like, an office supply store?

[He is not a walking storage space, Rosalind. Except he totally is.]

[originallutece]

You look like a man with a thousand pockets and a dimension where he keeps swords and god knows what else. Do you or don't you?

[daemonized]

I am not made of pockets.

[Because that's totally up for debate here.

But he exhales, and with his free hand, produces a notebook and a pen in a sharp flash of magic. Yes, he comes prepared with the most basic items, though there really isn't much more than that right now. (He isn't like some Lucis Caelums, who keep an entire swath of camping gear in their hammerspace.)

The notebook has a few scribblings in it; mostly observations of Wyver and a sketch or two of a dragon, but that's about it. Most of it remains blank, and he feels comfortable enough handing the items to her.]

[originallutece]

Well, well. A supply store and husband all in one. Come kneel by me, please, I need the light--

[Because she's going to sketch out these symbols. Carefully settling on her knees, she sets the pad on her thighs and peers up at the symbols. A few moments pass, and she adds:]

I like the dragons.

[daemonized]

[The way their shadows twist at strange angles reveal that he does kneel next to her after a moment or two. The flame settles back into something steady, a boon for her to work by.

He shrugs.]

They wouldn't stay still.

[They're decent enough sketches, because Ardyn has an eye for detail, but they're unfinished.]

[originallutece]

What would happen if one tried to eat you, I wonder.

[She doesn't glance over, but there's something like amusement in her tone.]

[daemonized]

[Rosalind....]

I doubt I'd taste very appetizing.

[And how easily that amusement is reflected back.]

[originallutece]

I more meant I wonder if you'd die, actually, but you're right: far too tall. I imagine you'd end up being stringy.

Now, if I was in full command of my powers, they'd simply pass through me, as if I was a shadow. Now . . . mm. I don't know what might happen.

[The sketch is coming along wonderfully.]

[daemonized]

[His smile twists at that. It's something he's thought about, perhaps more than once, though shared with no one. Though if Rosalind has brought up the subject, he supposes it wouldn't hurt to speak in hypotheticals.]

Even if I have been brought down to the level of being... mortal in that way, then I can tell you with certainty that it would still take an inordinate amount of effort to kill me.

[And that's not necessarily a matter of pride. It's merely spoken as if it were truth -- he knows himself better than anyone else, after all. He can feel the Starscourge swirling in him, like a storm just under his skin. Even here, it would not release him so easily.]

And I have a habit of returning from what most people would call a state difficult to revive from. But yourself? [A hand to prod at her shoulder, just to be annoying.] Flesh and blood, now? As easily injured as a normal person?

[originallutece]

Stop that.

[She waves a hand at him, though she doesn't yet turn.]

And I've no idea. I suspect no, not entirely normal; likely more resilient than your average human, but by no means immortal. As you may imagine, I've little desire to test it out to the extreme.

[daemonized]

[He pokes gently at her shoulder again.]

Well, should you wish to, do let me know of the results, hm?

[originallutece]

[This is where never having had siblings comes back to bite her; she has no idea how to stop this. Rosalind swats him this time, turning to scowl back at him.]

Stop it. I wonder if you'd know of them regardless, frankly. Would you feel it if I died? Perhaps. We're bonded on more than just a ceremonial level.

[daemonized]

[Ardyn had a sibling once, but We Sure As Hell Don't Talk About That.

Still, he pulls his hand away when she swats at him, easy as you please.]

Testy, testy. [A click of his tongue.] I assume I would feel it. The darkness you've borrowed from me should return to its rightful home, and I would lose what talents you've granted me. Impossible to miss, if not feel.

[originallutece]

Don't prod at me like a child and I shan't grow testy.

[But now that he's gotten her attention again, she might as well face him properly (besides which, it's a bit undignified, kneeling down and chatting to him while he's still standing). So she gets to her feet, tearing at the notebook paper to free it.]

Have you been using my talents, then? I have yours.

[daemonized]

Stop reacting and I may.

[P o k e.]

I have! I'll be the first to admit that teleportation has its advantages over warping. It's faster, and less noticeable, if you wish to not be seen.

Who have you been disguising yourself as? Or do you mean instead that you've been destroying trees?

[originallutece]

[He's undeniably stronger than her, but still Rosalind reaches for his hand, holding it tightly.]

The former. And you, first and foremost, though I gave Prompto a bit of a start doing that. But Robert as well. It's much more freeing to walk about as a man, especially at night.

[daemonized]

[He is stronger, but he just doesn't move his wrist, letting her hold onto it if she so wishes.]

You've been walking around as me? [And she ran into Prompto? Gods, if he could only have seen his face then.] I'm sure you terrified Prompto, but that's nothing particularly new.

I would suggest that you pick an easier subject to mimic, however. [Rosalind acting like him... his mind is trying to imagine how that might've looked.]

[originallutece]

[It only lasted a few seconds, thank god, but he's correct: it did terrify him. She still doesn't release him, though her attention is for the moment focused back towards him instead of his hand.]

So concerned I'll get it right? Or do you just dislike the thought of anyone doing something under your name?

[daemonized]

Not at all. Just doubtful that you can perfectly mimic all the subtle qualities that make up a man such as myself.

[A shit-eating grin goes here, and he would bring his free hand to splay at his chest, if she wasn't holding it hostage.]

[originallutece]

Firstly, don't flatter yourself. You're grandiose, but that doesn't equate difficulty. Secondly, you're hardly known to everyone here. So long as I don't act myself, that's all that matters.

And thirdly . . . you ought to know better than anyone that people are dull. Even if I don't get you down perfectly, they'll chalk it up to a thousand different mundane reasons. Perhaps he's ill, perhaps he has something on his mind . . . the last thing they'll suspect is the truth.

[daemonized]

[Oh, this makes him laugh.]

But it's hardly impressive if you can pass yourself off as me to complete strangers. No, the art is in getting those who know me to not suspect a thing. But I wonder if that's a challenge you'd be up to? Surely doable, if I don't "equate to difficulty", according to you.

[Mind swirling, he's already thought of something amusing.]

[originallutece]

I'm not going to terrorize Prompto again.

[Because she really does like him. But she does so love a challenge . . .]

Tell me what you have in mind.

[daemonized]

Now, I'm not asking you to terrorize him.

[Prompto is, unfortunately for him, the only one here from Eos who knows him best. He is the perfect candidate for this.

Ardyn frees his hand from her grasp -- simply by phasing through it with his magic. It lasts for a second, and then he's back to normal, undoing the scarf around his neck.]

Approach the boy, and neatly tie this around his neck. Tell him that your reasoning is that you'd hate for him to catch a cold. Simple enough, hm? [He offers it to her, with a raised brow.]

Regarding the rest of how you act, it's completely up to you. If he still believes you to be me, even through his inevitable confusion, then I will concede the fact that you're more of an actress than I give you credit for.