[He has no doubt she didn't neglect to notice what he had planned to use as a counter -- that darkness that even the god of war himself couldn't dispel.]
But it was not a memory, if that is your meaning. He referenced the Storm. He spoke to me as if Eos was gone.
[He's turning away to go pick up his box of terrible, terrible cookies.]
Something my own mind conjured up, then. I should thank you for snapping me out of it, but the state of my cheek says otherwise.
[A sting that's already fading, so it's obvious he's just trying to twist the conversation around.]
[Sure they are! Just look at how he turns to view her with his usual lopsided smile, only slightly stained, and makes to move as if he wishes to exit this room. But, oh, Rosalind is a bit in the way, and she's asking him more questions now.]
Just another little something I can do.
[Is that helpful? Probably not.]
Another gift granted to me, alongside my immortality. That you stood in it was very reckless of you, I hope you realize.
[She's stubborn, isn't she? Ardyn clearly only wants to talk about this so much, because while he is calmer now, he does have to allow his brain to reboot a little after having met with a god that he hasn't spoken with in millennia. A vision that dug up far too much than he's ever willing to consider, except only on his darkest of days.
Misguided and lost, monstrous thing that you've become. Even as Eos is swept away by the storm, still you cling to notions of hate and sorrow.]
Yes.
[To which part? Well, the former, but guess what, he's not going to clarify right now.]
[She doesn't for a long moment, standing there as her mind flickers through the pros and cons. It would be nice to get answers now, and god only knows she's good at demanding them, but Ardyn is stubborn in the most infuriating of ways. Likely he won't answer just because she'd asked-- and besides, he's just seen something that had to have shaken him (even if he looks nothing but good-humored and patronizing right now). Perhaps striking while he's emotionally vulnerable is wisest, but . . .
No, she ultimately decides, and takes a step back, allowing him to pass. No, she doesn't want to ruin this relationship, and she'll have a better chance of getting answers if she plays the long-con game. But she's still got that camera, and boy, she's gonna go over that footage a hundred times.]
[Ah, and perhaps she's not so unaffected as all that, because she jumps as he turns so suddenly. It's a minor thing, but it's a tell, and she hates that it happened.
She kind of hates that he remembered about the camera, too, but perhaps it had been foolish to hope to keep it. Still, she tries to think of a way to keep it before concluding she's neither the resources nor the skill to pull off some elaborate trick.]
The whole point of this venture was to study those things. I can hardly do that if you're intent on taking my observations away.
[At least he’s kind enough to not remark on the slight startle. (No, he feels self-satisfied instead.)]
You have your memory, don’t you? Rely upon that.
[He steps closer again.]
Or, perhaps, you’d like to find someone else to study instead. After all, experimentation does thrive upon trial and error. [He lifts the box of cookies gently with one hand, as if to accentuate them.]
The camera, in exchange for two of these. To do with them as you like.
[That leaves two for him, and two and a half for her. The remnants of the first cookie still exists in this room, discarded for now. He hasn't forgotten about it, but he doesn't care enough for it either.
And so, he opens up the box and hands her two. At least he can take pleasure in knowing that they'll be put to good, and hopefully amusing, use.]
no subject
Oh, they were very provoking.
[He has no doubt she didn't neglect to notice what he had planned to use as a counter -- that darkness that even the god of war himself couldn't dispel.]
But it was not a memory, if that is your meaning. He referenced the Storm. He spoke to me as if Eos was gone.
[He's turning away to go pick up his box of terrible, terrible cookies.]
Something my own mind conjured up, then. I should thank you for snapping me out of it, but the state of my cheek says otherwise.
[A sting that's already fading, so it's obvious he's just trying to twist the conversation around.]
no subject
You'll be all right.
[It might be carelessly said, but she's not quite able to pull off a blithe tone.]
A-- Mr. Izunia. What was that you conjured? That darkness?
no subject
Just another little something I can do.
[Is that helpful? Probably not.]
Another gift granted to me, alongside my immortality. That you stood in it was very reckless of you, I hope you realize.
no subject
[He's gonna either have to teleport or physically move her aside, because she's not moving.]
Is it a manifestation of that disease? Or something else?
no subject
Misguided and lost, monstrous thing that you've become. Even as Eos is swept away by the storm, still you cling to notions of hate and sorrow.]
Yes.
[To which part? Well, the former, but guess what, he's not going to clarify right now.]
Would you be so kind as to move?
no subject
No, she ultimately decides, and takes a step back, allowing him to pass. No, she doesn't want to ruin this relationship, and she'll have a better chance of getting answers if she plays the long-con game. But she's still got that camera, and boy, she's gonna go over that footage a hundred times.]
no subject
Most appreciated.
[-he says with a lilt as he edges past, that lingering feeling of something pressurized and dark still hovering ever so faintly around his person.
And so it appears like he's about to leave, until he suddenly whirls on his heel to face her again.]
Oh, and by the way, the camera. [AS IF HE'LL FORGET ABOUT THAT LITTLE DETAIL, fight him for it.] May I see it?
no subject
She kind of hates that he remembered about the camera, too, but perhaps it had been foolish to hope to keep it. Still, she tries to think of a way to keep it before concluding she's neither the resources nor the skill to pull off some elaborate trick.]
The whole point of this venture was to study those things. I can hardly do that if you're intent on taking my observations away.
no subject
You have your memory, don’t you? Rely upon that.
[He steps closer again.]
Or, perhaps, you’d like to find someone else to study instead. After all, experimentation does thrive upon trial and error. [He lifts the box of cookies gently with one hand, as if to accentuate them.]
The camera, in exchange for two of these. To do with them as you like.
no subject
And shall I inform you of my results?
no subject
[That leaves two for him, and two and a half for her. The remnants of the first cookie still exists in this room, discarded for now. He hasn't forgotten about it, but he doesn't care enough for it either.
And so, he opens up the box and hands her two. At least he can take pleasure in knowing that they'll be put to good, and hopefully amusing, use.]