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[ This is not something that Aria would lie about, Ardbert decides, and if she was lying he'd like to think he's learned how to tell by now. It's not as if he can read her like one of her scholarly texts, but there's also the fact that there's no reason for her to lie. Not to him.

They've both seen each other at their worst, at their deepest darkest moments. What is there to hide?

That said, there's still something she says that concerns him, his brows knitting as he draws up a first to rest near his chin. ] Mor Dhona? Last I can recall, we were in the Crystarium. [ He'd seen the train roll up, somehow hadn't questioned it, and the rest is history.

She congratulates him for a situation he still can't begin to understand, and he glances down at himself again, how every piece of him appears whole and solid rather than halfway to transparent. A third chance? Is that truly what this is?

When Aria indicates the food laid out on the table, Ardbert blinks and looks it all over, only now registering that it could be more to him than mere orientation. During their talks at the Pendants, Aria had often been settling in to have her supper, and there had always been that disconnect; that sense that she would have preferred if he could join her. Now doesn't exactly feel like the time for a meal, however... ]

Can we trust any of this, Aria? We don't know how we came to be here, how I'm like this... [ He spreads his arms and then gestures at himself, still in a state of shock. Simply put, it all feels a little too good to be true.

And certainly not like something he deserves. ]

I haven't been to the First in— [ Weeks, at this point. But it feels strange to admit that to him all of a sudden ( the number of nights, just before she'd succumb to sleep, where she would wonder if he could still see and hear and— ). There's a beat, as she seems to shake herself out of studying the food.

She moves on. ]

And I thought it was my job to be the skeptic. [ She raises an eyebrow at him. ] Realistically, one of two things has occurred — you're alive, or I'm dead. Unless I suddenly suffered from cardiac arrest, there was no reason for me to die. Therefore, you're alive. [ For a given definition. She shrugs. She wonders if he notices the way her weight shifts from one foot to the next, as if she's talking through it to convince herself of it too. ]

Based on that: they wouldn't want to bring you back alive, just to kill you again. Or get a whole reception prepared for us on top of the 40 others. [ Better. The tension and the what ifs seep out of her once again, now that she's convinced herself. Aria finally looks away to turn her attention back to the food, studying each dish carefully. ] Which means the food, at the very minimum, is not poisoned. So we may as well take advantage of it now, until they decide to change their minds. [ Eventually, she picks takes a strawberry from the fruit platter, and pops it into her mouth. Takes another, to silently offer it to Ardbert. ]

[ It's not as if there was a single doubt in Ardbert's mind that this was Aria and not some convincing illusion, but he still finds his heart set at ease when she starts to logic through the situation. This is who she is, this is how her mind works. A scholar. In some ways, she's almost the complete opposite of him, yet there are so many other instances where their experiences and impulses overlap.

She has a mage's mind, like Nyelbert, combined with Lamitt's common sense. As she continues to talk, drawing conclusion out of conclusion, a smile slowly grows, punctuated by a softening crinkle at the corner of his eyes.

Despite the fact that they were separated for hardly any time at all by his recollection, he can't help feeling that he missed her. ]

Well, I suppose I can't argue with that logic, can I?

[ His eyes flick down to the offered strawberry, and after a brief hesitation he reaches out to take it. Rather than his gloved fingers phasing through it, he's able to take hold of it. He lifts it up to eye level, looking it over for a good few seconds as he processes that he can eat at all. Taste is something he's been without for so long that he feels a hint of trepidation about this, and yet he's also desperately curious.

He meets Aria's gaze and lets out a breath. ] Here goes nothing. [ He takes a bite, not too big but not too small, and when the tart sweetness hits his tongue it's overwhelming enough that he simply stands there and chews in silent shock for a few seconds. ]

[ This isn't a debate; it's more a gathering of minds, an attempt to puzzle out whatever in the Fury's name is going on here. And yet he concedes, and the satisfaction is immeasurable. His smile is returned with one of her own, though this one is decidedly less fond and more smug. Vindicated. Good thing Ardbert's too kind to call her out on her pettiness ( hopefully ).

At least she manages to keep herself quiet through all of this, waiting for him to take the strawberry off of her. It's not supposed to be anything momentous, in the grand scheme of things, and yet the same time he reaches for it she finds herself holding her breath. Like it's her living through the experience for the first time in centuries, and not him. The realisation should annoy her more than it actually does, and instead her eyes are watching him carefully as he takes the first bite.

There's no quip here; just absolute silence as he chews, and swallows. She turns back around to reach for another one, popping it in her mouth. It's good. That's about all she can say, and yet her heart's hammering in her chest.

Eventually, once 10 seconds and an eternity have passed— ] Not bad, hm?

[ If Ardbert realized just how long Aria was giving him to have this moment, he would have appreciated it, that silence and that restraint. She isn't usually one to hold back, after all.

He finishes one bite, and then takes another to finish off the strawberry. It's such a small morsel that he can't yet feel any sort of fullness, which is another sensation he hasn't experienced in longer than he can remember. He nods silently to her question as he reaches out to grab another.

This time when he bites into it he can truly appreciate the taste itself, rather than just the fact that he's tasting at all. And it tastes good — better than anything has any right to taste, really. He closes his eyes to focus his senses in, unable to hold back on a soft moan like anyone might make when eating something unbelievably delicious.

Apologies, Aria. Just... give him a moment. ]

[ She should continue to be nice. Let him have the moment. Clearly, the continued silence means that he is enjoying it; she shouldn't ruin it. Their silences have been amicable more often times than not, and this is no exception. She's happy to let the peace continue for as long as he needs it, because it's clear he does, and—

He makes a sound, and she follows right after. Except instead of a moan, it's a snort. Their peace has officially shattered, rest in pieces. ]

I didn't think it was that good, darling. [ Implications of a two hundred year purgatory or otherwise. ] It's also a good thing no one heard that. And that you weren't eating a sausage. [ Aria. ]

Edited 2021-08-17 05:28 (UTC)

[ At that snort, Ardbert's eyes snap open as he reaches up to pull the half-eaten strawberry from his mouth by the leaves. In truth, he hadn't realized what sort of sounds he was making or how they might come across until Aria says something. And then she keeps going. ]

Why don't you try to eat something after tasting naught for a hundred years?

[ Don't actually do that. That would be terrible.

He heaves out a sigh and lets his arm drop to his side, but his exasperation is at least fond. ]

— That aside, we still need to sort out why this is all happening. [ This expression hardens into something more somber as he fixes Aria with a wary stare. ] We stopped Emet-Selch, but there are other Asicans from whence he came.

[ And while this is an unorthodox way of toying with them, Emet-Selch's methods had been out of the ordinary as well. ]

[ Can he blame her for teasing? Surely not, after all of their conversations at the First. She laughs instead, eyes dancing as she watches him give up on eating for now. And yet just like how his exasperation is fond, her amusement is too. Like meeting an old friend, a brother, a—

She shrugs, instead. Nonchalance feels better here, instead of going down the rabbit hole ( it could be— it can't be. She won't allow it. Her jaw tenses ). ]

You're really not going to let me have a moment of peace here, are you? [ There's the exasperation, like the other side of a mirror. ] Alright, fine. Why bring you back, then? Emet-Selch was unorthodox, but he wasn't helpful. This is— [ a gesture to the table, the train car, ] this doesn't exactly seem like they want to stop us from doing anything, except leave.

[ At Aria's question, Ardbert's mouth twitches wryly at one corner as he splays his hands out to either side. ]

Have we not been over this before? A hero is never granted a moment to rest.

[ Does he count himself in that category? It's been a long, long while since he felt such a title to be fitting for him, and even back in his heyday there had been some discomfort with it. Aria, though — is there any denying it?

He could point out that Emet-Selch had in fact plucked Y'shtola out of the Lifestream, had even played the part of a useful member of Aria's Scions, but he isn't actually intending to argue. This is about puzzling through their situation. ]

Fair enough, yet in order to transport so many people here, and to return me to such a state, whoever's behind this must have an immense amount of power, on par with an Ascian. If it isn't one of them...

[ He trails off uncertainty and sends another glance around the crowded room. Then who is it? ]

[ While he speaks, she looks around ( but not before making a point to roll her eyes ). There's definitely a crowd gathered here now; a solid battalion's worth, if she had to guess. Many she's never seen before, large number of them hyurs. But — not all of them. But not all of them are things she'd ever have seen before, either. ]

Who knows? Someone bored, maybe. [ Aria please try to take this conversation at least a little seriously. The nonchalance slips away when she looks back at him, offering another strawberry as a peace offering. ]

... Look around you. This isn't — this isn't the Source. Or the First. Or any of the others, I— you're here, as am I. The laws of space and time may bend a bit more flexibly here than we think.

[ It's not as if Ardbert can expect Aria to have any of the answers, and he won't let his own frustration at not knowing bleed out into the conversation. At least not too much. With a small sigh, he relents and takes the strawberry from her. ]

That goes without saying, I imagine. Mayhap we're in some sort of in-between place, then. Not the Void, surely, but something like it.

[ Which could mean that they're in far more danger than it appears. Ardbert walks to one of the windows built into the side of the train car, even as he takes another testing bite from the strawberry. (Slower this time, so as to not be completely overwhelmed by the taste.) Outside there's not much to see, as quickly as it moves past — only a desolate landscape that's a bit too familiar for comfort. Aria's right, though. This definitely isn't home for either of them.

He turns back sharply, then glances in the direction of the far end of the car. ] Should we see how far we can venture through this strange contraption?

[ It's like a trolley, but much faster. ]

[ He turns, and she follows; her gaze ends up where his is, on the far door of the train, and her head turns back to him the same time his does.

When their eyes meet, she grins. ] How forward, darling. [ Except she doesn't mean a word of it, surely. She picks up another small bite of food ( a small deviled-egg type thing ), and pops it in her mouth. ]

I suppose it's within our duty. As an adventurer, and all. [ Perhaps, at the end of the train, there's a way home. She's used to looking for that, now ( implications of what happens after aside ). ]

After you.

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