RP:Back To Brennia

Summary: Brennia gives Daermon his ring of protection back.

Smyth Campaign Headquarters

Brennia was staring at the ring Dearmon had given her a while back as the private office of hers in the campaign headquarters starts to darken to night. “Leave me be,” she commanded boredly to a secret security officer dressed in a black suit and dark tinted spectacles. Having memories of two different people was a lot and definitely too much for the time being. Surely he would eventually catch wind that she isn’t Raven anymore, but she isn’t really herself either and she decides it would be best to hear it from her first. She just has to slip the ring on and call him to the room, but she was oddly detached from it all, calm cool and collected. A wandering thought to if that would remain so once she saw him again for it felt like she hasn’t seen anyone for an eternity because once she started coming back around she was in disbelief that it’s only been a couple of months. She starts to think about where she was all this time and her heart aches for it, but before she could allow herself to think on that once more she mentally shakes herself out of it and runs a hand through her now short hair. She gently slips the oversized ring which really gapes around her slender finger now as she’s not as thick as she used to be. So much has changed, is he still even the same? Now she waits as she undoes the button to her blazer and takes a seat in be large leather office chair to her desk.

Daermon had been slowly moving on with his life. He'd been rocked so hard at first by the loss of Brennia. Slowly that had begun to wane. He'd spoken to Raven a handful of times, though that always left conflicting feelings. He realized in the hindsight of her loss that they had had something of an unhealthy relationship. His fixation on her when he came back. It was love, sure, but too obsessive as well. So it was that he had slowly begun to drag pieces back together when he felt the pull that was the ring. Raven must have decided to take him up on his offer of being friendly. He felt along his magic with the ring, found it and pulled the shadows to him, traveling away. Stepping out and what he saw halted him entirely and shook all that which he had slowly placed back together. While she looked changed, he looked as he always had, though he was dressed more informally than normal, just jeans and a loose shirt. "You are not Raven." he says simply, watching with those cool blue hues. Who would he find here? Had something else slipped into the body?

Brennia looked up, heavy lidded teal eyes take him in and she almost wanted to feel something again, but she just couldn’t. She still had no ink decorating her caramel skin and her wings still never bothered to move as if they were just some pretty fixture on a statue. “Not exactly,” her velvety bored timbre greets him without that accent this time. Her gaze drops to the ring on her middle finger and she slips it off to just as gently set the ring on the mahogany wood of the desk between them. She remained seated and relaxed back into the chair as she still felt very calm and calculated. Pushing some hair behind one of those long pointed ears as it’s not really long enough to pin back in a twist as she used to seeing as it ends around the middle of her neck now - not even touching her shoulders. She didn’t look impressive either, in one of those usual pant suits she was wearing back when they used to be around each other and her makeup done natural and light. “In a way I’m more of Brennia Raven Smyth, but I won’t bore you with the details. I’ve asked you here tonight so you may retrieve your token. Give it to someone more deserving of your protection,” those bored eyes having no issue looking right up to his face as she said the words to simply, so easily that it almost surprised herself it came forth without effort. “I thank you, Daermon, for your support and the protection you had provided,” she didn’t look pleased with being the bearer of bad news, but she didn’t look mournful for it either.

Daermon stepped forward, taking the ring as it was so gently set. It vanished into a pocket as those glacial hues studied her. "Yes...you are. For a moment, seeing you, I thought my love had returned somehow. But I see now that is not so. Dead is dead after all." he says softly. For a moment, he looked sad, beaten, sorrowful. The shift was sudden. The next moment, he was like her. Calm, composed...icy. "You're welcome. I wish you well in the endeavors you have set out for yourself. I hope you find all the things you seek and do all you have set out to do. The ring was a gift...and while I am not in the habit to take a gift back...I will today for I see from your look it would do no good to leave it." he tells her, the ring too small for his finger now.

Brennia’s expression doesn’t shift, “death and where you go in death. What you see be it good or bad… It changes you.” This time when she looked away it seemed she was missing something nearly yearning for it as her eyes set out beyond the window near her. Is it possible to look even older or sound even more ancient than she already had? Where exactly did she go? What did she see to make her possibly even worse off than Raven? She may never speak of it. “I do hope to gain your respect as a leader. Possibly connect with this Larewen you've placed yourself under so I can bridge the gap us avians have shoved between our races. Curses aren’t always optional,” she still remembers his story and countless others where they were turned or manipulated into being turned against their own will. She takes up a quill and pulls over a stack of papers to begin signing off on some of them with the cursive way she used to write ‘Brennia Smyth’. A glance up over large gold rimmed glasses, “and Daermon,” her Veretian accent bubbles out, “please write me if there is something I can do for you in the future.”

Daermon let out a soft, mirthless little laugh at her words. "Yes, I know well what death does. Becoming a vampire isn't painless, as we must die to live forever. I've seen things, though, what everyone sees is different." he admits. "You have my respect. You've always had it. As for Larewen...I would advise caution. She is very insane." he says, though his eyes held a hint of that same insanity. "I know where to find you, where to write. And you know how to find me or where to leave a note as well. So please do if you need anything. I loved you...truly I did. I was ready to marry, to find a way to have kids..." for a moment, his cool shell wavered, but then it was back in place. "Well, regardless, that time for us has passed. Goodnight senator Smyth, and good luck." he says, bowing low, the kind he would to a monarch, or other leader, a bow of respect. He stepped back as he straightened, the shadows pooling and lengthening as he watched the woman he had loved who was no longer that woman until she vanished from his sight and he vanished from the room.