RP:Walk A Little, Heal A Little
Part of the Vakmatharas' Jar Arc
Summary: Daermon catches up with Raven while trying to day drink.
The Dancing Destrier
Built against the rocky mountains behind it, The Dancing Destrier is a large inn. Double doors open to a massive dining area, often filled with magelings, villagers and visitors to the town, and even a few errant hobbits who have braved leaving the Burrows to live amongst the 'Big People'. Many wondrous smells come from the kitchen, where the barkeep's wife prepares exotic foods with ingredients given to her by mages, and recipes gained over a lifetime of meeting the strange patrons who come from all around to study within the Mage Tower or pay their respects to the Xalious Tree. The owner is a friendly man, with eyes that betray a fierce intelligence. Thin of arm and quiet of voice, he nevertheless emits the confidence which comes from those who have studied the arcane. A small fire burns without wood in the corner, but it is more a source of light than heat; kept alive by young pyromancers in the Guild as an exercise in control. There is always a student or two sitting in one of the high chairs which surround it, their features fierce in concentration. The entire building is made like the rest of Xalious Village: simple and sturdy, yet clearly built with the love and attention which can only come from the villagers themselves.
Raven made it! She slipped into the establishment unnoticed by many being cloaked with a ball cap hiding her ears. If she had to listen to one more bill proposal from Corvo, who is dreadfully dull by the way, she was going to seriously stick a dagger through her own skull. She has to sign this and appear at that, have lunch with these people and check her mailbox for forms she had to approve at the college. She was starting to wonder how Brennia balanced all of that when she finally sat down alone in a dark corner of a rather deserted tavern for it was in the middle of the day and people probably frequent later on. The quiet was nice and peaceful, definitely welcome since she’s been talked at for the passed few days. Gloved hands take out a small book and a pair of glasses to begin to try to sketch.
Daermon had not made it far from the college before his need to try to forget, or try to dull the ache was overwhelming. He had managed to keep himself together well during the revelation of Raven and his fleeing the college, but had only made it to Xalious and the Dancing Destrier. Daer was on named terms with most tavern and inn owners of the big cities, having been around or done business in each. It wasn't one he got out to often, but nevertheless, here he was. He was in the darkest corner, two walls to his back, drinking what had to be his...hundredth something drink as he fought his vamipiric side to allow himself to be drunk without having to be sober enough to get to the Hanging Corpse where their drinks were designed for his kind. Being sober hurt too much just then, the wound raw and painful to the touch. His eyes held his drink and he'd paid extra for the owner to allow him to stay here, in his seat. It was both pathetic...and sad. The few scant patrons had learned fast enough to leave him alone, as he had snapped at more than a few. As the door opened and an avian entered, he looked away in disgust. Seeing them brought that found to the front, pressing fingers against it. He finished his drink and ordered another, avoiding looking at Raven, whom just yet, he didn't recognize.
Raven kept her cap on and her cloak over her wings which her folded around her, but she wasn’t worried who was in here or if they meant her harm she just needed some quiet and alone time with her thoughts. She’d been having an odd reoccurring dream and sketching always helped her sort her emotions to a more linear and concise platform to which she can leave them. Being such an old soul she had some talents and at the moment she was a master of none of those things, but she knows her own habits - some of which had bled to Brennia because you don’t just spend so much time being constantly within someone without taking on a few traits from one another. Her left gloved hand was scribbling furiously until she got sick of not being able to actually contact her art form. Perfect teeth bite gently down on a finger off the glove and slip it off with a subtle grunt before she gets back to the charcoal on her notebook of parchment. After a long moment a burly gentlemen sent over an alcoholic beverage to which distracted Raven for a moment, ‘what is this? I don’t want this’ as those teal eyes stare down to it before sliding it away from her papers on the table. The man notices this and calls her a ‘frigid bitch’ under his breath and yeah Raven heard it. In her mind she was probably gutting his insides out and the thrill was making her heart beat just a little faster, but her sketching doesn’t stop and her smirk widens just slightly.
Daermon, while soused, was slowly becoming aware of a familiar scent in the room. His eyes darted about, panic flooding him as the smell threatened to pull the painful memories to the front. The new person, it surely must be them. Her. In disgust, weaving, he rises to his feet. He stumbles towards the door and into the man that had offered her a drink and had called her a bitch, accidentally spilling the drink all over the burly man. Daer murmured something, maybe an apology, but didn't bother to stop. He was parallel to her table now when he suddenly found himself going vertical from two hard palms in his back. The man had pushed him and in his drunken state, Daer fell!
Raven was not an awful person, she became an awful person through Des’Monde Smyth’s doing and it’s a wonder that Brennia didn’t also turn cold after learning about what her father did to her. Raven became a little crazy as she was tied to the ink, but without the memory of Brennia or the ink she is essentially reset. She’s not powerful and she can be cold, but she won't just sit around and let people be pushed about. She glanced up at the commotion and then did a double take because, heyyy that guy looks kind of familiar, but the second glance came in time to see the man fall down. Her brow furrowed in anger and she stood up, took her drink up, flung the contents on the floor, hurls the mug at the burly man’s face. It hits, but does nothing in the way of harm except turn this man’s frustration into anger towards her now…. Raven is not one to back down, “hey - dickhead!” He was storming his way over to her until he was close enough to look up at her… Oh, she’s tall, that's a little intimidating, but not as much as the cold glare he was getting from her. He’s made it this far and he looks like he’s gearing up to take a swing at the woman.
Daermon hadn't been an awful person either when he'd started. But years, time, pain, the scars on his body, each one a lesson carved in flesh and blood, had made him into something darker and sharp. The shove to the ground had erased the traces of booze in his system. Shadows whipped and lengthened as the anger he had been repressing, the grief of losing his love, reared up inside his chest. As the man reared back to punch Raven in the face, Daermon's hand fell on his shoulder. "You shouldn't have touched me." he whispered in the suddenly silent room, his eyes glowing with a terrible blue light as he extended and threw the man out the door, splintering and cracking it as it flew from it's hinges. His eyes, burning so intensely, looked to Raven for a moment and seemed to dim, his shoulders seeming to slump slightly as he recognized a face that would haunt his dreams. A moment only, then his shoulders squared and he straightened, moving out the wrecked door and towards the fallen man.
Raven watches with a dullness in her eyes for she is neither surprised or impressed, but she sees how the remaining patrons watch with horror and fright. The sudden movement cause the air around them to shift the papers about and some drift softly to the floor, but there is something about what she was sketching that can possibly solve some mysteries going on even though they mean nothing to Raven. One page shows a man being torn in half, the other showing the beast that did it, the next showing Brennia’s horribly crushed and broken body under a large wooden wine rack with a dark figure seemingly morning over her. Raven has no idea what Brennia used to be to Daermon, all she knows is that she’s being pushed to help him; that annoying sensation has been happening a lot lately. “Wait!” Her sharp voice seems to halt all, but not because of any power for it’s a natural intimidation. She quickened slightly stumbling steps out in the way of the door and put her arms out to the frame, “you don’t need to do that.” Her voice had softened to her usual warm alto timbre with that Veretian accent laced through it. A glance over her shoulder as she caught the tail end of the man fleeing… Daermon doesn’t need to kill for this person anymore.
Daermon growled as those flickering blue flames watched the man scramble away. His gaze moved to Raven and the growl became a command. "Get out of my way!" he snarls, though he didn't move any farther and didn't raise his hands to move her. Madness flowed freely with the grief, whispering things to fuel his anger as he looked like what he was just then. A man, a beast, barely restrained and broken in his grief. "Move, or you will be moved." he threatens, though inside a voice whispered that it was an empty threat. Raven however might not realise it. Something dull throbbed in his mind at the images she'd been drawing, but his anger was not so easily quenched. The man didn't deserve the fate Daer would wrought, but his anger, his madness and grief, demanded blood and violence and a way to let some of the pain out.
Raven didn’t look scared or threatened and she even nearly rolled her eyes at him because why the hell do people think they can just talk at her like they are crazy. She held back and only glanced down at her things that are now strewn across the tavern floor, but those dulled teal eyes travel back to the man before her, “alright, alright.” She lowers her hands, one gloved, and adds, “I’m too old to be getting into tavern brawls anyway.” Matter of fact, besides the slight difference in timbre and accent Raven’s voice has turned Brennia’s to have that sort of wise and exhausted hint within it. You know the sound, when there’s an overly obnoxious kid with their parent and the parent’s soul has just been so diminished over the years that they just drone throughout the day all soulless seeming… Yeah. She stepped sideways out of the vampires way and made work of trying to get all of her papers back into one pile for the brute man from before was totes outtahere.
Daermon stepped outside, swore at the lack of his target, one who had been about to take all the blame that did not belong to to, swore more loudly and quite profusely, then seemed to deflate. He looked much like a human man after that again, himself. He moved inside, bending to help her with her papers, then, moving to the owner. He apologized, paid for the damages and then some, as gold always helped smooth things over, then moved out the broken door. They would have asked him to leave anyway, and suddenly the small crowd seemed large to him. Raven might notice that her pictures had vanished, and she might see them in his hand as he walked away. Perhaps she'd follow. Perhaps not. The vampire stopped, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag as he turned his face to the sky. and here he had foolishly hoped he wouldn't ever feel so broken again.
Raven made her way back over to the table and is sort of happy to help two people today, sort of, and then she scowls… Why is she constantly feeling like she needs to help people, that urge is going to get real annoying real fast. She is filing through the sketches she did, but to her it is more a diary and a few pages are missing which suddenly makes her feel naked, exposed, vulnerable. “Merde!” She is cursing now and she slips that glove back on and secures her hat while quick booted feet stumbles their way out of the tavern until she finds Daermon once more, “hey! Monsieur, wait!” Her hand waving in the air as if flagging him down, “I think you have something of mine?” Once she caught up to him she ducks under a nearby shadow to keep away from the damn sun and holds one gloved hand out while the other arm holds onto her sketch book.
Daermon stopped at the call and the waving. He had nearly forgotten her plight of the sun. Raven had inherited much from Brennia it seemed. He concentrated and spread a shadow in a bubble around them, protecting her and allowing her to move out from the tree. "Indeed I do. My apologies Raven. I wanted a moment to study these." he says, offering the pristine papers back as his cigarette glowed in the soft light. "I don't suppose asking you about them will help, as you took the vial." he admits weakly, finding her hard to look at, while also not quite wanting to look away. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I am...not myself of late." he whispers.
Raven quirked a brow at all of this apologizing while gently taking her sketches back, “it’s quite alright. Not the first time in my few hundred years,” she shrugs it off, “these pages don’t make sense without the sequence, though, and it is just some stupid dream I’ve been having. I have found it’s better to write it out or sketch than let it fester. You gotta talk about things like this sometimes even if the thing is an inanimate object,” explaining while putting the pages away. “It is just a very vivid dream, quite odd - really.” Her mannerisms were almost similar to Brennia or was it the other way around? “Usually I wouldn’t bore someone with this stuff,” but he seems he could do with a distraction, “I’m in some dark room talking to some guy and then this huge beast made all out of bone comes sprouting out of this gentlemen, I mean, blood and guts everywhere,” which doesn’t seem to bother her, “half of this guy is over there and the bottom half over there. It’s a mess,” she’s pantomiming the whole thing and it’s kind of slow and hypnotic in the way she moves, “and then this thing is coming for me! Now I am watching all of this happen from above like none if it involves me.” She flips through the sketches she did which almost read like a comic book without words or something, “and then something even weirder happens. All this weird decoration comes slipping off of me and this other dark figure appears, but this is where the dream gets a little fuzzy because these overpowering feelings of grief, anger and morning come over me and then BOOM!” She slaps the sketchbook shut as her voice quiets again, “I’m awake.” She’s chuckling softly ready to get some look from this guy like she’s just grown five heads and she’s shrugging, “see? I told you, odd.” She really doesn’t understand who she was or what happened.
Daermon took it all in slowly, carefully, weighing each word as she spoke it. When she finished, she'd find a look of sadness on his scarred face. "It wasn't a dream Raven. And perhaps instead of leaving I should have explained. I don't know who the person the bone...creature erupted from was. The other though was Brennia, a name you well know if only from those who've spoken it. You wear her body, as you were a piece of her, something inside. I don't know the how precisely or the why, but I think she died, or was dying, and you took the body instead. The vial that I stepped on, the one I spoke of, was a potion specifically to make the user forget all about Brennia and her past, who she was. You must have taken it, though, I don't know why for sure. I was Brennia's...I was hers and she was mine. And now, she's gone, and you look like her. I had to leave without explanation that first day because I knew she was gone, and couldn't bear to see her still before me. I knew you too, but it seems the potion has erased me as well from your mind. We...did not always get along." he says flatly, seeing if she took what he said as calmly as he'd taken hers.
Raven listened for a long moment and she was silent, “oh.” She took a step back from the cigarette smoke and sort of pulled the hat over her face a bit more as if that would help him forget she was wearing his lover’s face, “so… The college isn’t mine… The guild isn’t mine… That castle isn’t mine.” Both of her hands hold the sketch book over her chest, “huh… Ever since I woke up I had this feeling that I just don’t belong.” And Daermon just proved it. Teal eyes glance back at him when he mentioned they didn’t get along, “not surprising. I don’t get along with much of anyone,” lone wolf and all that. “I’ve been described as being one of those neighbors you have that you see, you smile, you wave and they seem friendly, but you just don’t want to know if they have some sort of secret torture dungeon below their home.” It seems Raven has a very dark sense of humor and then as if to make matters worse or more awkward Corvo comes dropping out of the skies, landing next to Raven. “Bren- Raven! What are you doing??” He was covered in a hooded cloak and his eyes narrow at Daermon right before Raven answers, “oh… Hey, look, I found that guy you wont shut up about.” She said rather dryly, like a tall, mixed, ‘Daria’ - if you will, “you know… As much as he talked about you, I thought you two were a thing.” Corvo immediately blushes and starts stuttering over words to say to negate Raven’s claims. She rolls her eyes and looks up at Corvo, “about now is where you pull me away to escort me back to DeVere castle and lecture me about sneaking out like I am some sort of preteen.” She sighs, “and I am bored once more already.” They all just stand there a long moment it seems.
Daermon, even wrapped in his grief, he could feel pity for Raven. She...wasn't what she had been, nor was she what she might be. She wasn't...what he'd expected. "I know the feeling of being out of place...of not belonging, though, it has been a long time since I felt it. You don't...you don't have to hide your face." he says, a small, soft smile, an offering of kindness and he would have went on had Corvo not dropped from the sky. Daermon listened to Corvo sputter and to Raven and in the hastiness born of being far too kind at times, he breaks the silence. "She can stay, with me for a time. Perhaps she should walk the lands and learn a bit. She is not Brennia Corvo...and you should not try to force her to be. I will keep an eye on her this time...and be sure she makes it home." he says, letting it be Raven's choice if she went back or not. He knew how Corvo felt, but being he did not feel the same, he didn't want to embarass the man. That would, or might be a private conversation if they ever had one.
Raven felt victorious deep down watching Corvo becoming thoroughly embarrassed and all atwitter at her words, but she wasn’t sorry. He had been talking at her for three days now just berating her with information, giving her a strict diet and exercise schedule, it seems she slimmed already from it. Corvo entirely wanted to argue with him, ‘what about what he said before he left.’ He almost didn’t trust him, but was too put out to care at the moment and like a parent he ordered, “if she isn’t back by sundown I’ll be sending out the secret service for her.” Raven fixed him with a cold indescribable look, but you wouldn’t wish it on your enemies and her dry sarcastic voice sounded, “excuse me?” She’s got guts, but no power to back it and Corvo knows it, but he does cave a little, “fine, midnight.” Without further ado he was soaring back into the air. It seems where Brennia was charming and warm, Raven was cold and intimidating. She smirks, just subtly, and finally takes her hat off under the cover of Daermon’s shadow bubble, “he’s such an insufferable little…” so many expletives follow the start of the sentence, but her dry and sarcastic demeanor didn’t change. Not only her eyes, but her hair had seemed to change, it was lighter somehow as if it were highlightly slightly by the sun and more of a dark brown than the black it was before. In her twisted way of saying thank you she offers a little softly, “you didn’t have to do that... “ She understands it’s probably awkward to be around someone who looks like she could be your late ex’s twin.
Daermon would have fought for it, but it wasn't necessary as Raven and Corvo sort it out themselves. Things weren't going to be as they were. He wasn't going to suffer Corvo anymore and was not returning to be Raven's body guard. But, he could help her escape the life for today...and who knows, maybe a bit in the future as well. He did mentally make a note of people he knew that could be trusted, mercs that would enjoy the cushy gig of watching over Raven and would pass it to Corvo when he esorted Raven back the college when she was ready...if she deigned to stay with him or allow herself to be escorted. As she slipped her hat off, and told him he didn't have to do what he did, he merely nodded. "Yes...I did. Walk with me. And feel free to let your wings out. I'll keep you safe." he says, the bubble moving with him, showing her that it would follow as they walked. "I blamed you for what happened when I felt the bond break and found you. That wasn't fair. Not to who you are now. I have no idea if Raven saved or hurt Brennia, the other Raven, the one I knew. But, taking that vial, you aren't that Raven anymore. It'd be like me blaming a grown man for the things he'd done as a child. Two different beings while still the same. Corvo I can tell is planning to continue Brennia's work with you, as you could be her. I don't blame him. It's important work. And while it makes me a coward, I cannot bear to fulfill the role I promised I would. Not yet. Maybe never. It is...hard to be near you. You look like her, have similar mannerisms to her, but are not her. I know this. Yet, I ache to hold and touch and tell you it will all be okay. I won't." he says quickly, though he smiled as he finished his cigarette and crushed it out. "It's not fair to you now that I treat you as Brennia then, or Raven. So...I can at least start fresh." he says, stopping and turning to face her. He held his hand out, as if they were meeting for the first time...which they were.
Raven listened, but unlike Brennia she opted to stare ahead and make as little eye contact as necessary as that was too close to looking into her soul. She is a guarded person now, “if what happened is true...” She sighs as she hates that she’s about to openly admit, “then that was the saddest I have ever felt.” She starts walking with him and slipped the cloak off so her wings could stretch out a little and lift off her shoulders, “I have been feeling like something is missing. Whoever this Brennia was… I wasn’t only bound to them, but I must have cared in whatever capacity I could at the time. I don’t think we would be walking here right now if I didn’t,” her gaze dully wondered from this or that. “And… Like you I wanted to run away from those feelings so that is why I must have emptied the vial.” She’s gaining perspective and slowly understanding more and more of her purpose, the cause and effect of what happened. She didn’t give a response to his want to hold her as she isn’t even sure how that would pan out and they fell into a comfortable silence for a moment. Teal eyes look slightly up to his blue ones when he goes to introduce himself and she offers her unmarked hand, “bonjour. Je t-” She corrects, “hi, I am Raven Cadenza.” Cadenza: meaning a solo passage at the end of a song in music… Oddly fitting.
Daermon shook her hand with none of the dramatics he would normally use on a woman. No bowing over her hand, or kissing the back, just his cool, callused hand in hers, giving a light squeeze. "A pleasure Raven. I am Daermon Nae'Baer." he offers, releasing her hand and not even once showing the pain that familiar touch caused. "I don't have all the pieces myself Raven. So I cannot help you past what light I have shown on the dark parts. But this is your chance. You literally got a reset and can be whoever you want to be. If it includes potentially a senator, then Corvo will help. He is a bit of an ass, but he wants the change the avian race needs as much as Brennia did. For me...I'm not sure what will happen now. I need time to sort where I stand, and where I go. Once, before Brennia, I had many lovers and loves. During her, I dwindled to a few, then finally just her. I was planning on spending the rest of my life with her. Thinking of finding a way to give children, as I'm a vampire, in case you hadn't noticed. But now...those dreams are gone and I am reminded of why I stopped being a single woman sort of man long ago. It's easier when you lose one...to pretend it doesn't hurt so bad when you have your face nestled in the throat of another. It's a comforting lie I used to tell myself...but they all hurt. And this one is the newest and freshest and I must learn to bear it." he says, looking to the sky. "Wallowing in drink is not going to cut it though. I need to put my feet to the earth. Travel as I had so often in the past." he says, after all, it had been a long time since he'd explored Lithrydel.
Raven continues to listen to the past this body had and she let those wings fold tighter for she was uncomfortable at the talk of one lover let alone a harem! It was unethical and foreign to Raven, a being so guarded that she pushed any and all away that got too close. She’s got very good at goodbyes and she was able to drop someone at the first sign of wild thoughts or more, but then the talk of children caused her eyes to widen a half a second and glance down at her stomach. Raven likes kids well enough, but definitely did not want any for herself and she hesitated a step for she half way remembers that she was willing to do something that had to do with kids… She mentally shakes it off and continues on. “Wonder on through Lithrydel and plunder all the strange booty, that’s the spirit… And look on the bright side, at least as a vampire you can’t contract any sexual diseases.” she said it with such a cold tone that it was hard to tell if she was joking or not, but she eventually let that hint of a smirk touch her lips.
Daermon allowed a grin to split his handsome face. "Well of course dear lady. Why do you think I enjoy being a vampire so much? It has nothing to do with the immortality, the strength or speed, merely the immunity to sexually transmitted diseases." he returns, just as wryly, though he couldn't keep his smile from his face, so it was clear he was teasing. "I make no decisions in haste though, so for the time being, just wandering, no plundering." he responds. "What of you?" he asks her seriously. "Will you continue in her stead, or will you strike out and make this life solely your own?" he asks her in seriousness.
Raven continues to half smirk though her gaze remains dull and unaffected by emotions, “how innovative.” She secretly wonders if she should get herself to a healer to make sure she’s without any afflictions because it seems that Brennia kind of got around. For a moment she’s staring ahead lost in her own thoughts and how empty it felt in her head, but he’s asking about her own intentions and this time she nearly squirms as she assumed he just asked her if she’s going to be taking on any lovers. An amused start to a chuckle/scoff, “I’ll direct you to my before comment. I don’t fare well with matters of the heart,” a raise of her shoulders, “it gets too messy socially.” People always wanting what you have and jealousy or people trying get those jealous reactions, “games… I’m just too old for all of that.” Awkward silence takes place, “that…. wasn’t what you were asking.” One nod, “right.” A head tilt as she’s looking up at the trees and the skies, “um… I love music, always have. Although the castle and college isn’t mine, it feels like home. I do not want to lose it and given the hundreds of lectures Corvo has given me, it would be smart to continue as Brennia was, but I do not know how long we will be able to fool people. I have a slight accent when I speak, my eyes apparently changed color, and that tattoo marking is definitely not me.” Another amused scoff, “I am not one of those royals,” an eye roll, “so pompous and pampered - it’s a marvel that Brennia managed to do all this on her own.”
Daermon shook his head slowly as the real meaning of his question dawned on her. "No, that is not what I was asking. You do as you wish in the social department. I personally love the chase and all that comes with." he listens as she explains her thoughts on the matters of senatorial things. "You're wrong there. Brennia did not do it all on her own. I can't vouch for the college, for it started as her home, but she had help for the rest, so I imagine she did there as well. Just a thought though, as I don't know for sure. I wasn't around for that part." Daermon stops, looking at her again. "No...you clearly are not Brennia and I'm not sure, no matter what Corvo says, that you should pretend to be. If it comes out later, it will be damaging as opposed to getting out in front of it." he cautions.
Raven sighed softly, “that’s an awkward conversation. ‘Dear Schezeradians Brennia died, but I gave my life to serve you fine people.’” It would sound fine if she didn’t say it as sarcastic as she’s been talking this entire time, but if you think about it it’s actually kind of funny. “Then what? Are we supposed to have a funeral service for me?” At this she did actually look confused and a bit out of place, it was really the only time her face showed emotion…. “talking about her to me, has that made anything better?” She was curious and hoping to change the subject, “I mean, if you loved her so much, talk about her and keep her memory alive. I know I’m not the same, but it’s kind of nice hearing about her.” The dullness returns and they’ve come to the ray of light in the meadow, but she knows he won’t come up those.
Meadow
A path runs through this meadow from the merchant's corner and then turns west. You're sure that it would save time for the path to just cut straight west, but the maker of this dirt road obviously wanted travelers to see this serene place. Long, soft grass and wildflowers invite you to lie down here and enjoy the peace and quiet of this place. Bees hum from flower to flower, collecting the sweet nectar, and unknowingly the means to create the plants' offspring. This meadow shows how dignified and simple life can be sometimes, and you feel the need to ponder your own existence in this world called Hollow. To your west, you see a path leading into the hills, while to your north you can see a building.
A Ray of Light Leading Upwards is here.
Daermon did indeed stop, though he kept up his shade of darkness for her. "I could be less awkward. But you are right. It is rather...odd circumstances. You could always claim your opponent did something to you." he suggests with a wry grin. At her question, he pauses, giving it careful thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. Not really. It feels like...perhaps a little. It is nice to talk to someone who doesn't stare at me with pity in their eyes at what they recognize as grief. Unfortunately...this is not the first time I have lost someone. It hurts, deeply. But I will eventually heal enough to move on." he looked at her firmly. "Perhaps speaking did help. I can't be sure. Did it help you in any way?" he asks. "I am open to more discussions though. The ring you wear is mine. If you press on the sigil firmly, it will call me. I will come here and wait for you. If you ever wish to speak again." he offers, having healed ever so slightly from their time together.
Raven slips her cloak, and her hat back on, but drops her sketch book and pretends not to notice. She doesn’t need it anymore and he already knows that they are about so he can keep them. “Nice to know… I just may do that.” It was sincere in her flat way of talking. A gives a shrug, “and there a plenty of fish in the sea.” She says thinking Brennia wasn’t all that big of a deal, but she must have been to force herself to forget her… At the moment she doesn’t see it though. “Au revoir,” her velvety timbre romances the Veretian words out, “take care, Daermon.” That accent still saying his name as Brennia did and with that she allows the magic to take her up into the floating town so she may meander back home, but of course her secret security was waiting at the archways… ugh.
Daermon stooped and scooped up the sketches. "There are...always...but that doesn't stop you from loving the only person you had decided to ever marry, or think of children with." he points out, raising one hand in a wave. "Good-bye Raven." he says, watching her lift into the sky, then, a soft smirk on his face as his glacial hues catch sight of a familiar derriere. "Nice to see some things don't change!" he calls, giving her no context but to wonder what on earth he meant. He watches until she is gone, then, let's the shadows fall so the light sun shown again. He let out a deep sigh, looking to the book in his hands, then slowly walked on. Some things, never changed.