['Is it another's when your souls are twisted in a knot?'
Edward doesn't answer, though it's only because he knows he doesn't need to. The answer is clear, of course: and the child sees into him with far too much frightful lucidity, some pellucid, pure insight to counter the cryptic carnival-ride of her strange remarks and stranger perceptions. There's something to her that is an old soul more than it is a young one, at least in moments like this.
Her next statement only further illustrates this, and the spectre sits almost stunned again by such wisdoms coming from her sharp-toothed little mouth, before she at once becomes something juvenile and sprightly once more, springing up the way she does, offering out a hand. He blinks down at the gesture, utterly unsure what to make of her all over again. (A pact? Is it wise to tether himself to her in this way?
Hasn't he already decided to? Or rather — was it ever a choice at all?)
All of this is unprecedented, never before done. He's figuring it out as he goes, sorting out where the rules of him fit against the confines of his new parameters with this entity. What she proposes means safety, at least in theory. (At least in hope.) It might not guarantee as much, but..... if he is to follow through with this, with continuing to learn the creature as she learns him, and to potentially— assist her? Save her? (Try?)... then such measures must be taken. Honesty.
He stares for a moment longer, eyes very slowly lifting from her hand, then returning down to the sole finger jutted out. There's an almost comical moment when the sinister spirit of reckoning looks almost lost, unsure what he's meant to do. (Edward Mordrake has never pinkie promised with anyone, to be sure.) But he can follow along well enough, and finally lifts his own gloved hand, hesitant for a moment before he imitates the gesture and pushes his own closer, absorbing the moment in like a sponge, with a fascination he can't quite suppress. ]
A pact. [ He affirms, with due solemn respect, taking this all very seriously. Then— ] But my dreadful warning will ideally be an unnecessary one. We do not harm children.
[ This is spoken purposefully, chin lifted and eyes sweeping sideways, making it well-known — yes, a reminder aimed to his dark twin, as he sometimes must give. It does test him so.... and the little beast of a girl may tempt the demon as something quite unlike the usual child; it might categorise her differently. ]
—Now then. [ His eyes flash back, returning forwards to her. He'll wait his turn to ask her his own questions, head tilted politely, making certain first— ] Is there anything more you wish to ask of me?
no subject
Edward doesn't answer, though it's only because he knows he doesn't need to. The answer is clear, of course: and the child sees into him with far too much frightful lucidity, some pellucid, pure insight to counter the cryptic carnival-ride of her strange remarks and stranger perceptions. There's something to her that is an old soul more than it is a young one, at least in moments like this.
Her next statement only further illustrates this, and the spectre sits almost stunned again by such wisdoms coming from her sharp-toothed little mouth, before she at once becomes something juvenile and sprightly once more, springing up the way she does, offering out a hand. He blinks down at the gesture, utterly unsure what to make of her all over again. (A pact? Is it wise to tether himself to her in this way?
Hasn't he already decided to? Or rather — was it ever a choice at all?)
All of this is unprecedented, never before done. He's figuring it out as he goes, sorting out where the rules of him fit against the confines of his new parameters with this entity. What she proposes means safety, at least in theory. (At least in hope.) It might not guarantee as much, but..... if he is to follow through with this, with continuing to learn the creature as she learns him, and to potentially— assist her? Save her? (Try?)... then such measures must be taken. Honesty.
He stares for a moment longer, eyes very slowly lifting from her hand, then returning down to the sole finger jutted out. There's an almost comical moment when the sinister spirit of reckoning looks almost lost, unsure what he's meant to do. (Edward Mordrake has never pinkie promised with anyone, to be sure.) But he can follow along well enough, and finally lifts his own gloved hand, hesitant for a moment before he imitates the gesture and pushes his own closer, absorbing the moment in like a sponge, with a fascination he can't quite suppress. ]
A pact. [ He affirms, with due solemn respect, taking this all very seriously. Then— ] But my dreadful warning will ideally be an unnecessary one. We do not harm children.
[ This is spoken purposefully, chin lifted and eyes sweeping sideways, making it well-known — yes, a reminder aimed to his dark twin, as he sometimes must give. It does test him so.... and the little beast of a girl may tempt the demon as something quite unlike the usual child; it might categorise her differently. ]
—Now then. [ His eyes flash back, returning forwards to her. He'll wait his turn to ask her his own questions, head tilted politely, making certain first— ] Is there anything more you wish to ask of me?