Judging by the way Soren stares blankly at him after the initial bout of mild annoyance at insinuating he was on drugs, it's clear that what he demonstrated back there was no unusual bargaining maneuver. It takes him a few beats to first register why Waver is finding any of this odd, cross-compare that with what he knows of himself, and then try and stack up all of his personal facts in an order that makes sense. His gaze shifts along the cobblestones as he processes this, fear eating at the edges of his otherwise tranquil expression.
He'd been managing well enough in Waver's company for a while, with only a few hitches of absent-mindedness and memory blocks that were easy to keep private and conceal. If anything, he just seemed to take longer to think about things. What happened just now, though... It was strange. It felt as if he'd known Waver for much longer than a couple of years. Like he'd known him since the time he'd already been on Tellius, that somehow he'd wedged himself into the picture somewhere. Now that it's clear he'd been making a fool of himself, a flushed tint starts to encroach upon his pale, scale-bordered cheeks.
"I'm..." It's tough to grapple with his sense of time. He glances around himself, at the populace with their dark coats and ruffled dresses and tall hats. A curious stare snags one of the youth on his way down the road, but the shame of being caught double-taking prevents him from lingering. This is Aefenglom. The Shopping District, to be precise. He draws this mental map for himself, for he knows it well by now. A sense of place is all well and good, but where he falls in it, who he's attached to... That's the trouble, isn't it?
A hard fact wallops his already beaten pulp of a heart, causing his shame to wan somewhat forlorn. Ike isn't here. Wasn't here. That charlatan who thought he could assume that position for him is good and dead, and there's no reason for him to be upset about his death. No, he should be rejoicing it. He shakes his head and hopes his scattered memories will shake back into their proper alignment.
"Just... confused, that's all," he admits, leveling eye contact and trying to return to his usual composure. "My memories keep falling out of order. Just a second ago, I thought... I was in a city of my home realm. I didn't even question the fact that you didn't belong there. It seemed perfectly natural, even though I know better. And then the next moment, I..." He swallows and glances back toward the shop they left behind. "I thought I was the person I was brainwashed to be."
no subject
Judging by the way Soren stares blankly at him after the initial bout of mild annoyance at insinuating he was on drugs, it's clear that what he demonstrated back there was no unusual bargaining maneuver. It takes him a few beats to first register why Waver is finding any of this odd, cross-compare that with what he knows of himself, and then try and stack up all of his personal facts in an order that makes sense. His gaze shifts along the cobblestones as he processes this, fear eating at the edges of his otherwise tranquil expression.
He'd been managing well enough in Waver's company for a while, with only a few hitches of absent-mindedness and memory blocks that were easy to keep private and conceal. If anything, he just seemed to take longer to think about things. What happened just now, though... It was strange. It felt as if he'd known Waver for much longer than a couple of years. Like he'd known him since the time he'd already been on Tellius, that somehow he'd wedged himself into the picture somewhere. Now that it's clear he'd been making a fool of himself, a flushed tint starts to encroach upon his pale, scale-bordered cheeks.
"I'm..." It's tough to grapple with his sense of time. He glances around himself, at the populace with their dark coats and ruffled dresses and tall hats. A curious stare snags one of the youth on his way down the road, but the shame of being caught double-taking prevents him from lingering. This is Aefenglom. The Shopping District, to be precise. He draws this mental map for himself, for he knows it well by now. A sense of place is all well and good, but where he falls in it, who he's attached to... That's the trouble, isn't it?
A hard fact wallops his already beaten pulp of a heart, causing his shame to wan somewhat forlorn. Ike isn't here. Wasn't here. That charlatan who thought he could assume that position for him is good and dead, and there's no reason for him to be upset about his death. No, he should be rejoicing it. He shakes his head and hopes his scattered memories will shake back into their proper alignment.
"Just... confused, that's all," he admits, leveling eye contact and trying to return to his usual composure. "My memories keep falling out of order. Just a second ago, I thought... I was in a city of my home realm. I didn't even question the fact that you didn't belong there. It seemed perfectly natural, even though I know better. And then the next moment, I..." He swallows and glances back toward the shop they left behind. "I thought I was the person I was brainwashed to be."