❪ introlog: #2 ❫ THE CALM.

[natha]

OVERFLOW

You have spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Perhaps you’ve made some friends (or maybe an enemy or two). Either way, you aren’t expected to spend all of your time on the Station. El Nysa needs you, after all, and you promised you’d help the planet thrive. Are you ready? Submit any AC eligible thread of participating in this log's prompts for Two (2) Olympia REP points HERE. TRAVEL LIGHT     You're really lucky, new refugee. Because of the efforts of those that came before you, your own descent into El Nysa will be quick and relatively painless. You get to reap the benefits of others' experience. Those that came before you are all well-versed in the art of teleportation now, and descending into El Nysa is simply a concentrated thought away. A teleporter has been placed in the common areas to help the new refugees descend, but for this first time, you're going to need a little guidance. You're going to need to take the hand of someone who has been on El Nysa for a while now and learn the ropes. Hold on tight, Refugee, and don't be afraid when the blinding light hits you. The actual journey will feel like a sudden whiplash— painless, but sudden, and maybe a little nauseating. Keeping your balance may be difficult, and it’s possible you might end up toppling onto your poor partner. Hopefully you’re at least thankful. You have landed in a back alley in the Residential District of Olympia. HOME SWEET HOME     Immediately, you notice that everything you've been told about El Nysa is true. There are people of all races here, and although no one bats an eye at your appearance as you enter the district, a member of the Royal Guard asks for your passport. They have a keen eye, and can tell that although you may be a new refugee to their city, they've never seen you before. Certain rumors of an outside force making preparations to do some major damage has them particularly on edge. It's a good thing the Orbiters made sure you have an Olympian passport ready to go. You present it, and with a small nod, the Guard says nothing more and slaps a patch on your chest; to your surprise, it reads: Hello! My name is ________________! I am in House #___! Are you my housemate? ... No matter how much you try, there's no removing this sticker. "It'll come off tomorrow," says the guardkeep. "Lots of refugees here, limited housing. It's an easy way to get to know the people you're living with. Though, if you ask me, why are we accepting so many foreigners when so many want to watch this city burn? Well, I don’t give the orders." If someone greets you, the message on the patch will magically change: Secretly, I _____, _____, and _____! What are yours? There's no telling how they'd known these things, but it likely has to do with Zasere. AGAIN. It may be a good idea to get situated in your new home and set down some ground rules with your roommates. There is also, of course, much of Olympia to explore. FLONA COVE     Word around the city is that one very cute and enthusiastic Olympian, You Watanabe, has been asking around earnestly for the nearest place to find some coastal fun. It didn't take long before a few locals pointed her in the direction of Flona Cove. Maybe it’s a good idea to check out the area. There are only a few more days left of summer, after all. Even if you're not the beach type, exploring a new area certainly can't hurt your understanding of El Nysa. Flona Cove is just a quick train ride away. BEACH PARTY: Chances are, you've heard about the beach party being organized by You Watanabe, whether it be from her directly or someone who knows her. A lot of careful planning has gone into it, and it looks like a great time, so why not check it out? Full speed ahead towards a great time! There's plenty of food for everyone, and plenty of watermelons that need splitting! 1. Various food vendors from around Flona Cove have agreed to offer free food for the new refugees, and they line the shoreline near the harbor, enthusiastically offering goodies such as seafood kabobs, ice cream, fresh fruit (including whole watermelons!), and hot dogs. You Watanabe herself has a grill where she’s cheerfully serving up her trademark "Niceoodles" yakisoba as well as other Japanese food like takoyaki and rice. What makes her noodles so nice? It’s obviously the cheerful smiley-face sun drawn on the omelette. In exchange, the chefs and vendors only ask that you spread the word, though most of them have buckets for donations if you want to help chip back in. After the party is all done, however, there seem to be plenty of dishes that need doing, all in a big pile. You herself is working on getting through the mountain of dishes, but maybe you could lend a hand? 2. It's just not a beach party without the traditional watermelon splitting! For those of you who don't come from modern Japan on Earth, it might be perplexing at first seeing the literal mountain of watermelons grown with the help of Keyleth, another recent Olympian. If the bat-like sticks and blindfolds next to them don’t explain the purpose, though, you might just sit back and watch as a brave competitor sets a watermelon on the sand, ties a blindfold around their eyes, and has people start yelling at them which way to go. They consider the shouts of the crowd, take a swing... and strike nothing but sand. Perhaps you can do better? There are beach activities galore. Now's the time to build the sandcastle of your dreams or play a game of beach volleyball. Maybe you're brave enough to surf the waves, or you’d just like to enjoy a swim. Mom friends who just want to lounge in the sun and read a book while working on their tan are welcome too, of course. BENEATH THE SURFACE: 1. Diving beneath the waters in Flona Cove yield a whole new world on its own. Rent a scuba suit and take a trip to explore the corals, and you may even be lucky enough to run into a playful school of dolphins. Be careful-- they tend to get carried away and will happily drag swimmers for a wild ride. 2. You might want a boat for this scuba adventure, unless you're a strong swimmer. Venture deeper into the ocean, farther away from the coast, and adventurers will find some interesting stuff. Two miles southwest of the harbor, deep, deep into the watery abyss, lies a shipwreck. Exploring through the various rooms of the ship yields a few knick-knacks here and there-- rusted spare parts, cracked tea sets... a surprisingly well-preserved pin-up painting of Koralle? The real treasure awaits for those who have the courage to swim beneath the ship's hull. Here, covered in algae and debris, lies the skeletal corpse of a winged, fanged, clawed beast. This is only a distant memory of its former glory, as nothing but bones are left, but something— something brilliant, catches your eye. Those hundreds of teeth are not bone, but a material so lustrous and pure, it nearly blinds. It will take some work, but with persistence and strength, it is possible to extract a tooth. Those that work in Simwe Institute or The Sanctuary may find it beneficial to take an extra for their boss— this is definitely something that is of interest to study. 3. Olympians love their luxury. There's nothing more luxurious than a secluded lagoon, the water at just the perfect temperature and pristine. This is one of the most sought-after spots for the natives, but when you come across it, it is completely peaceful and empty. For the tourists? Well, this place simply gets overlooked due to its distance from the main beaches. It's also relatively hidden. Soon you start feeling oddly friendly? Cupid’s Pool is also described by the people of Olympia as the touchy-feely pool. It has an inherent property that makes those who soak in it crave physical affection. Chances are you probably wanted to know this before you decided to take a dip, huh? (Please warn for threads appropriately) EARN SOME SILVER     1. While many of the locals came together to offer their hands to provide a bit of entertainment for the surge in tourism, that isn’t to state that they’re fully staffed. Have a few hours to spare? They're willing to pay for your help. Maybe you’re just the cooking champ they needed? The lifeguard who showed up just in time? Or the star salesman at their humble accessory shop so desired? 2. The man who approaches you is even offering more than most of the vendors down the street. Sure, the guy and his entourage look kind of shady, but money is money, isn't it? If you accept, he’ll shove a strange swimsuit or two your way and lead you to the dressing room. What kind of job is this? Modeling, he says. Hopefully you aren’t camera shy! Hey there, hot stuff. I like your look. Or maybe it's your... aura? Either way, I like what you're working with. How about you flaunt what you've got for some fat silver stacks? He also wants to be able to test your charm, and is willing to pay a whopping 400 silver in exchange. He may even ask you to go "talk" (did you hear him say "hit on"?) to a couple of people, and “sell” yourself. Whatever that means... Incidentally, he says he’ll give you a signal once you get a pass. Feels like forever, doesn’t it? 3. Once night begins to fall and the people gradually begin to clear out, you’ll notice something... odd. There are some shady looking people around, and maybe you’ve been hearing whispers all day about a certain "fight club." Initially, no one will tell you a time or location, but if you are persistent, your efforts will pay off. Perhaps in light of helping a vendor clear out their stall or assisting that one Olympian native in distress, they’re willing to tell you a few things about this exclusive club. They explain to you that it’s been a long-standing tradition of Olympia. Secret fight clubs. A place for people to stretch their wings and their fists. Moreover, the pay off seems to be pretty good! Though, they warn you that there are some aggressive competitors out there this time around. Things have been tough politically for a while now, and there is much unrest among the people. What better way to blow off some steam than to beat someone up and make a bit of bank! Fights are not to the death, simply until a knock out, but accidents (and "accidents") do happen. Finding the crowd of people will take some searching, even with directions. They meet along the northern coast of Flona, by following a path leading underground, well away from any civilization. Once you’re there, why not participate? You may find yourself facing off against a fellow refugee. OOC     An AC-eligible thread for 2 OLYMPIAN REP POINTS may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD HERE by OCTOBER 15 11:59 PM EST. In the event of CAPTCHA, we will be providing an overflow. In the event of a second CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP. 1 SILVER = 1 US DOLLAR. QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● world ● map ● reputation ● npcs taken ● reserves ● application calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[daemonized]

[are you sure you want ardyn to pat her butt

Ardyn hasn't been participating in any of the fights, of course. He only watches with a mild yet morbid interest as they take place; and when he had spotted Aranea as one of the participants, of course his attentions were going to remain focused on her. Her fighting style was not one that he was unfamiliar with, and though even he will not deny her toughness and adaptability, it's obvious that she won't come away from any of it without sporting a few mild injuries.

He's right. When he approaches, even only seeing her profile, he can make out the black eye, and the smear of blood around her nose. He just grins, seeing that she's already been working on a drink or two, and decides to make his presence known.]

Quite a fight you put up there, Commodore. A shame you were outmatched.

[He gestures to his own face, indicating at his nose.]

You have a little something... here.

[You know. Blood. He's poking fun.]

[unweave]

[ Who would have thought the mistress of the sky would fail so badly when she was in a ring. She had no height advantage, no ability to move agile. Boxed in — and Aranea overestimated herself. Wouldn't be the last or first time.

She's nursing a wicked bad case of bruised ego and other physical injuries. She wiped up most of the blood, but there's always a drip that clogs her up. Keeping a rag to it, she lifts it up to take a sip of her drink. It's here where she wishes she could groan into it without choking. A harsh swallow and she smiles a sarcastic, ever-so-shit-eating smile to him. ]

Yeah, hope you bet on me. [ She hoped he totally lost some coin from that. ] Not my best, but, wonder if the other guy can even drink with his missing teeth?

[ Definitely didn't go down without a fight. She waves the little bloody rag with an eyeroll. She's annoyed, but keeping herself contained was the best she could do. Not like she personally hated the guy — just.... you know? Politics wasn't her game and she didn't like how it's being played. ]

Got it. Thanks.

[daemonized]

[He sidles up to the makeshift bar, though ignores when he's asked if he wants anything by the man tending to it. Ardyn will indulge himself in a drink occasionally, as useless that the old habit of eating and drinking might be, but he chooses not to tonight. Instead, he merely moves so he can see Aranea's face more easily at the angle in which he stands.

He still finds it curious that she's forgotten all of their previous interactions. That she's forgotten about the endless night and the daemons, and is actually giving him even a small facsimile of the time of day. Are those memories still locked away in her head somewhere? He wonders, and he pries.]

You're quite welcome.

[They're beyond the politics of Eos now. For all intents and purposes, Ardyn didn't even have to interact with any of those from home, and life may move forward as usual. But he simply cannot -- he is the one whose severed bond with their star perhaps stings the most, even if he does not let it show in a normal manner.

Thus it's only natural that he's come to harass say hello to Aranea. A familiar face will forever be impossible to overlook.]

I actually didn't, though. Bet on you, I mean. Giving you such praise after you turned tail from the Niflheim army would hardly be proper.

[unweave]

[ It's not about the drink. He cares less about how to numb any insecurities or indulge in vices. Instead, he focuses on the wounded woman to his left. The pale flesh is speckled with red - dusty amber and deep purple underneath the bags under her eyes. It was oddly suitable, though.

He has the upperhand here - he knows of her future, of the fears that wait in the shadows of the night. Endlessly, how she pursued them and yet - her features remained youthful and mind lost on what awaited her.

She wants to say something but the words stop in their tracks past her lips. A crooked, tired sputter of her lips follows. ]

Bitterness doesn't suit you, Chancellor. Didn't belong to you or them. I didn't sign a contract and sure as hell had no loyalty outside of a decent paycheck. Maybe you should check the toy soldiers on cold storage? If you want mindless drones, I mean.

[ But, she pulls the bloody rag away from her nose, snapping her finger with her free hand. ]

Oh, wait - right. I doubt there's any here. Sucks to lose minions, right?

[daemonized]

[Ah, a bit of bite underlining those words. Her personality certainly hadn't changed after having woken up a second time, that's for sure.

Still, he can snipe back all the same. She assumes that there is any love lost over his "toy soldiers" being destroyed with the rest of Eos, and she would be wrong. But he can make a snide remark regarding that, one that he knows she can appreciate.]

That's not true. There is one.

Or did you forget about Prompto too?

[unweave]

[ The drones she once saw sprawl across the lands weren't really a pain point for her. She knows they're collectively just a tool for the Empire. Weapons.

But, when he brings Prompto up, there's a bit of discomfort in her chest. Aranea smacked the sense back into the boy - saw him at his lowest and knew that he wasn't some... whatever they were.

Defensively, there's a shift in her voice. It's less teasing and more hostile. ]

Leave the kid out of it. We both know he's different. [ She'll nurse her drink with a little bit of a white knuckle grip. ] I get you can't do the whole political overthrow thing here, but picking at easy targets... tch. You've fallen from grace, y'know.

[daemonized]

[Striking a nerve, it's evident from the edge in her words and the tight grip around her glass. Any normal person would stop wheedling, for Ardyn certainly has nothing to gain from seeing her irritated -- that is, nothing more from the pleasure of being the one to raise her hackles.

Fallen from grace. The words make something twist in his grin, gaining a sharpness that wasn't there before.]

"Different". Are you sure you're not just applying a misguided sense of protectiveness to him? He's hardly any different than the tools set forth by the Niflheim army. Only that he believes himself to be a Lucian proper.

In the end, Aranea, he's just as expendable as the rest.

[How much is sincere and how much is meant to get under her skin? Who knows.]

[unweave]

Bullshit. He's scared shitless of being different - scared of people using him or thinking he's less than them. Pretty valid concern with the egos in power, I'd say.

[ She's cool. Her words slip through her lips in a controlled way, one that was based off years of dealing with hotheads and jerks in field. Ardyn wasn't any different, was he?

She gives him curious glances when he mentions expend-ability. That's when he sees her tongue press to the inside of her cheek. She looks away, in disbelief by how silver his own tongue was. ]

Just as expendable as the rest of us in the grand scheme. Me, you, the King, the Prince - we all get the shaft eventually. But -

[ Her arm swings to the left, her glass coming with it. With an impact that shatters the glass and bruises his face - Ardyn would find it hard to dodge a glassing like that. She's standing over her stool at this point, looking down with him with a narrowed expression. ]

You don't have to be an asshole about it.

[daemonized]

[He wanted a reaction, he got a reaction.

The glass makes contact with his face, shattering and cutting into skin. There is less shock that spreads across his features as it should, but the smile slips away in favor of a grimace. A frown of disapproval, even as something dark seeps from the short, slender cuts. Even as the bruising across his face (straight across a cheekbone, thanks Aranea) already seems to be forming, though the pain itself feels so very far away. Behind a thick veil, and Ardyn knows that it's there, it's just... negligible.

Even so, habit dictates that he places a hand to his injury, and he looks up at her with clear distaste. Here comes the smile again, but definitely sharper around the edges this time.]

You show your hand too easily.

[He stands up, and the same hand covering his face grasps at her wrist, squeezing tight with inhuman strength. The cuts that adorn him already begin to heal themselves.]

Is there a bleeding heart under there somewhere, Aranea? [If he squeezes any tighter he'd shatter bone.] Careful to not show it so readily to others, else they take advantage and pry it still-beating from your chest.

[unweave]

[ It wasn't even that Aranea knew how deep Ardyn's inner workings went. She had no clue how deeply the snake had slithered into the Empire and how he succeeded in his own nasty agenda. He was just so goddamn smug. That's what it really boiled down to.

It takes only a second for confusion to twist onto Aranea's face. ]

What the -

[ The snatch at her wrist twists her bicep a bit, her wrist pained by the tightness. There's tugs - oh, she wouldn't dare let him touch her without trying to keep the distance. He has some height on her and strength. His words hit her like a freight, the same tone that made her raise her glass in such a way to him. ]

I'd worry less about the heart and more about how you should take your fucking hands off me. Going to give you one chance, just for old times sake.

[ Because as the crowd begins to form around them, thirsty for blood and entertainment, Aranea gets more ready to fight her way out. She'd like to avoid it, but, by the way they're looking at one another...

it may just be time for the main event. ]

[daemonized]

[Ardyn’s existence, centuries upon centuries piled upon themselves, has taught him patience. The unwavering sort, focused solely on one goal — but here, with Eos gone, there is very little reason to practice it. Merely out of habit does he keep himself together, all the pieces carefully held in place so that all that churns and claws within him does not spill forth for everyone to see. But for as long as he’s been displaced from home, it’s dredged up a frustration within him that he’s failed to set forth and let unwind just yet. An anger at the loss of all he had worked for, all coiled up inside him, crystallizing and festering everything it touches.

Arena’s hostility towards him (because as far as he’s concerned, she struck first — his words were merely barbs to get under her skin, but he certainly did not come looking for a fight) is just enough to shatter all of this, the bulwark that keeps his usual demeanor unaffected cracking at the edges.

And so what does Ardyn do? He just laughs in her face, cold. Heartless and challenging.]

And if I don’t? What will you do then?

[His grip hasn’t loosened. The crowd forming around them, he doesn’t pay heed to.

Give him a reason, Commodore.]

[unweave]

[ Aranea wished there was a reason for her bad choice. That she knew it would detour him away and make the man leave her the fuck alone. Her mind, while brilliant in battle and tactics, fell short due to her general grumpiness.

When his grip refuses to lighten, there's a need that ignites inside of her. She needs to get herself out of this situation — survive. It's human nature, you know. She may not have centuries of seeing mankind crumble and raise up, but she has the basic instinct to survive. ]

I'll make you.

[ Maybe for him, time felt different. Years could be a blink of an eye, but for Aranea — it didn't matter. She moved quick, wrapping her fingers at his wrist to give a sharper tug all while her knee drives upwards. She hopes it connects with his gut, to knock the air out and enough to create some distance. She'll attempt a follow up, a swing of the back of her hand right onto his face before scrambling back. The patrons keep their distance, a clear path between them and ...well, them. ]

[daemonized]

[She's fast, as expected. The hit connects, and while it's technically enough to knock the wind out of him, there's little reaction from Ardyn other than a staggering backwards, and a sucking in of air. She'll still be met with that somewhat unnerving grin, even as she hits him across the face, which is what ultimately undoes his grip.

Only long enough for him to straighten, and look at her with something truly cruel in his expression. This is permission enough for him to retaliate, and by the gods, will he take the opportunity; Aranea need learn that her actions will always have consequences where he's concerned. She hadn't the memory of ten years of dark to reassure her of that just yet, and so it would only be due diligence on his part to let her know now.]

Just how will you be able to stop me?

[He laughs, dryly, then suddenly lurches forward with a step, hand coming out and grasping tightly around her neck. Fingers pressed into flesh, he deigns to lift her up off her feet, looking up appraisingly.]

I don't think you realize just how ignorant you are right now.

[Concerning just what he's capable of, just how easily he could crush her throat from under his grip. This is certainly enough to draw a crowd, if nothing else.]

[unweave]

[ Reaping the repercussions of her actions would be a simple stupid echoing in her mind. There's no reprimanding, no fear of the unknown. Aranea made her bed and she'll find herself tucked the fuck in whether she liked it or not.

There's a defensiveness at her core to stop him from touching her — to get her own footing before things got messy. ]

Still thinking of that, but you think that pompous attitude isn't overcompensating for something? Get arrogant, you get weak.

[ Her mind is twisting, working a mile a minute to connect dots that weren't readily there. He caused quite the problem for the Prince and his poor nation, but the dedication he has to letting his bitterness known was still unknown to her.

His sudden movement matches hers, instinctively her hand went up to block but fails once his grasp latched to her neck. Both hands wrap to his fingers, trying to pull him off, but alas... There's a kick of her feet, the pressure on her larynx bringing her heart to a quickened state. Gurgles of words try to sputter out but fail. Through her one good eye, she can see the people gathering around and cheering this on.

One hand slides away, as if her physical strength was leaving her. The slight discoloration of her face from bruising or lack of oxygen was enough to offer some warm victory, right?

Wrong.

Ardyn can hear her sputter her lips just a bit before — ]

Too.. bad.

[ He'd recognize the sound for a brief half second. A summon of her spear was useless in the grand scheme of things, it's Aranea's will — the driving motion forward that impales him right above the flat of his stomach. Whatever leaks out of him — the entire crowd can see the widening tip of her spear wedged completely through him, poking right out of his back. ]

[daemonized]

[The sadist in him burns brightly at watching her attempt to form words, only for them to sputter out into something unintelligible. Idly, he wonders at all if he should bother letting go -- that for a brief moment, he cares not for the looks of others and the repercussions it might bring him. Only what it might be like to prove to her, rather fatally, what she's truly dealing with.

In the end, he would've let her go. Despite the crowd screaming all around them for blood, he knows that killing her outright would be more trouble than it was worth for now, for the display might be a little too public for his liking. Yet none of that matters when she drops her hand and summons her spear. Pain calls to him, closer than before, as he feels it pierce through his flesh, through muscle and bone, something dark and not-quite-blood staining his clothes. This is enough to gain a proper sort of reaction from him -- a true grimace, glancing down at the damage she's done to him, and while many might feel a surge of panic, he only feels anger, annoyance, (something simultaneously gleeful and shameful and a familiar feeling of resignation), and adrenaline.

How novel.

His body already begins to heal as his free hand grasps at her lance, fingers gripped tightly around it. But this takes far more effort than a few cuts on his face, and his daemonized energy churns and overflows to compensate.

When he lifts his gaze to her properly, hand still clenched around her neck, it's tainted with black that drips from his eyes, from his mouth. Skin turned pale and scalera gone completely dark. And there's a timbre to his voice that sounds inhuman, something monstrous rumbling under the usual intonations of Ardyn Izunia.]

Impatient for another fight? Then let me give it to you.

[Without warning, without fanfare, Ardyn literally throws Aranea away from him -- with enough force to send her flying, aimed solely at a nearby window. Will he still have his spear stuck in him unless she calls it back? Absolutely.]

[unweave]

[ Poor Aranea — her downfall was nothing short of her own fault. Had she only woken a little later, remembered a few more years... she wouldn't have prodded the beehive. It was harmless at the root of it, but the expendability comment got under her skin. Stupid — but maybe it was on her own deep-rooted problems with that the Empire had done. She had no loyalty, that was obvious. Now? She's stuck wiggling between the former Chancellor's grasp. There will definitely be another wound for her to tend to, his fingers leaving a nice deep and dusty red against her pale flesh. It'll be hard to swallow for the next few days, but Ardyn would probably gloat if he knew that fact.

The change in his expression gives her hope, a flickering one that washes with adrenaline and defense. There's a nice hard twist as she struggles, watching the features twist in torment even briefly. ]

Come on.

[ She says with a hissing disbelief, choking on her words. The vision before her wasn't the prim and well-collected Chancellor who roamed between the cracks of Nifleheim's army. It was something that twists her heart into a knot. The spear slips from her fingers by the time he tosses her so carelessly through the window. Shattering glass surrounds her and a heavy groan punches it's way through her throat as she lands unceremoniously. She spits — crimson hitting the ground next to her. The impact was the icing on the cake of one shitty night. Labored breaths keep her there as she tries to stand, coughing among the pain of getting to her knees.

Piecing everything that happened to Ardyn in her mind bit by bit.

And yeah, the spear is still there. ]

[daemonized]

[Her crashing through the window is something he pays only mild attention to, because if her lance still stuck in him, he would very much like to remove it before dealing with anything else. It’s a mite convenient, after all.

All it takes is a singular, harsh pull, and it slides out with a somewhat sickening noise, leaving a wound that seeps viscous black. (There’s a giant hole in his shirt now, Aranea. Thanks a lot for that.)

It’s just a moment or two later when she’ll catch sight of him approaching, having exited the warehouse proper to see this through to the end. Glass crunches underfoot, and Ardyn does little more than toss her spear at her, clattering nearby. His face remains daemonic, though it’s already starting to shift back into something more human-looking. If there’s a few people wanting to gather just outside the warehouse entrance to see what comes of this encounter, he doesn’t appear to care.]

Come now, you can do better than that.

[He kicks at her side mercilessly with the toe of his boot.]

Get up, Commodore.

[unweave]

[ BOY.

What the fuck was he? Aranea's trying so desperately to connect dots, to know what the hell she's up against. She fails. Every single time. He's unlike anything she's seen — daemon or man, but so sad she doesn't understand he is a mix of the two at this point. Her head is aching and her fingers push her body up to kneeling position, her body getting kicked down with a sickening thud from his boot. She winces, but, there's a bit of a grin on her face. ]

I can. Trust me on that. [ When she wasn't ... drunk and aggravated. Her hair was matted as she stands, a cold sweat running own the back of her neck. She's not too wobbly, not too drunk. The spear next to her returns back to her, its Magitek doing its job as she finishes her loose ends. ] Whatever the hell you are, you've shown some true colors. A snake in sheep's clothing.

[daemonized]

My "true colors" have been exposed once before.

[He actually laughs at that, though it's difficult to miss how bitter it sounds.]

As I said, you just don't remember. It's a shame, because the whole state of Eos did, at the time. Covered in dark and daemons. But I suppose none of that matters now, does it?

[Ardyn lets her wobble back up to her feet, if only so that she can put all this effort into simply being... cut down again, likely. He'll meet her, weapon against weapon, if that's what she wants.

He extends his arm, summoning his blade with his magic. It crystallizes around him grip, a flash of red and light.]

What matters is just the now and the here, so I've been told. Attack me then, Aranea. If you think you can even manage it.

[unweave]

continued!