Fettered Learning PV Selim Complete

"Walking in the darkness is much easier then walking in the light. Especially if people keep trying to snuff out your candle."

It had been another one of those days. When the whispers were too loud, when human voices grated down his spine like a cheese grater. One of the days when he felt the exhaustion of life all at once, bearing down on him like a weight from above.

A day when he was distracted.

It had carried on into the night, one fragment of him mulling over the masquerade and all that it revealed to him. He remembered that eerie green glow, the light pulling off the cloak of those who had meddled with darker magic in one way or another. He remembered the skeletal figure of the one who had broken his favorite mask and gave him a new set of scars he barely thought about after then had partially healed.

He still had the mask. He found he couldn't let go of it, and all that it symbolized of his mental state.

Whatever mental state he had left, that is.

The other parts of him had just been muddling his thoughts, forcing him to store away his cohesion in his mind palace, the broken maze that was steadily decaying in his brain.

Those green sparks hadn't been able to reveal how blighted Selim was. The raven-haired boy didn't need to meddle in darks arts to dissolve into a twisted version of humanity. He was doing that just well enough by himself.

The Cruel One was taking over more often. The serpentine voice coiling through his soul, easily taking the reigns from the weary child that manned that walking corpse.

Selim could feel it, feel it tainting his brain, wiggling through the cracks of his shattered character, infecting everything it touched.

....

Yes, Selim had been distracted. He had been wandering the halls just before curfew fell, instinctively creeping through shadows in his black turtleneck and dark grey pants. Hiding from footsteps, and from phantoms.

He avoided the light more often now, it felt too... bright. Lighting up just how... listless... broken(?) he was.

That was probably why he didn't notice the one stalking his every step. The whispers had been too loud, his senses had been dulled by exhaustion he couldn't find in himself to fix.

They had come up behind him, hitting what he knew to be a pressure point that could knock someone out.

He had used the skill himself, to knock out the prey his father directed him at.

You can't hear screams if they aren't there.

His awareness returned quickly enough, his somehow-intact internal clock saying it had maybe been around... a half an hour?

No matter, people were drifting to sleep. Curfew had fallen.

He examined his surroundings. The dungeons.

He knew them well, with their damp, molding air, and pulsating shadows that seemed to breathe like something was alive.

After that quick look, he slid his eyes shut again, the movement pulling at his new scars that coiled around half of his face. His breathing evened out to the rhythm of sleep after the brief moment of disturbance.

He was alert though, ears listening to the sound of another person.

Reaching out with his senses as cold indifference took over to prevent another panic attack, he noted that his hands were wrapped in sticky tape, his (bare) feet were as well. Chill nipped at his fingers, and he swore he heard a rat squeaking in the distance, the noise echoing in the stone corridors.

His clothes were damp, his back was situated against a moist wall, a drip of water periodically hitting his cheek, forcing him to resist the urge to twitch.

His sense of smell was only good for poisons, he was no dog. So, he didn't know who the person in the room with him was.

Instead of finding similarities to the last time he was kidnapped, he found differences. This person obviously wasn't adept at the art, his last ones were. They had used chains, they had left his chest bare so the cold seeped deep into his bones, making him shiver uncontrollably.

This kidnapper didn't smell of copper, the only smell he could identify clearly from his past experiences.

Slowly, that shadow of panic slipped away. This was nothing, there were no screams around him, to cries of mercy. Just him, the whispers, and the one who had stolen him.

Now, instead of fear, annoyance took hold in his chest. Down here, all he had to worry about was hags, and whatever other beasts lurked in the shadows.

To Selim though, humans were far, far more frightening.

Selim was a troubled boy long before he met Erin. She was more a painful nuisance than something to fear. In truth, the girl was quite mad but he was right in that he had nothing to fear. She was twisted and wrong in ways that he could see, she was a monster that could be identified and ultimately defined. The beasts in Selim's own head were phantoms that could not be slain, ever morphing and adapting, preying on his fears and insecurities.

Erin was merely bitter, broken in her own way. He was alone and he was vulnerable when she found him. Her footsteps fell in near cadence to his own. She was not stalking him, she would make a terrible shinobi. Perhaps that was why he did not notice, she was not hiding rather she was an opportunist. It was Selim that was hiding, not from her but from his own phantoms.

She did not know pressure points, she just had one mean right hook. The squishy organ inside that hard head of his was not meant to be rattled by some brute of a teenage girl. A punch to the back of the head, enough to make the boy see stars on any day but then there was the impact with the cold, unyielding stone floor. Again, she was untrained. She was just a really strong, not-so-little girl.

When he came to, he was not where he was last. The air was cooler, lacked the dryness of the corridors heated by crackling hearths. There was no breeze, he was indoors. It was darker, yet he was not left in blackness. He had not been out for too long, just enough to drag the fallen youth youth to these subterranean depths. This was far from a practiced kidnapping scene. He was found, vaguely. Yes, vaguely. His wrists were united with wizard tight, essentially the equivalent of duct tape. He was not bound to a chair, simply his wrists linked with a few loops of tape that was not sticking none-too-well.

You see... "Did you know that wizard tight is sticky on one side," she announced this revelation out loud. He might notice wads of discarded tape. Like sticky tumbleweeds left stubbornly about the floor. He did not know Erin well but he likely recognized her voice. The pureblood was a neophyte in all things muggle, tape when the adhesive charm exists was among the many novelties she had never bothered to understand before this moment.

He could hear her footfalls. They were soft, lacked the power and authority of a man but also the feminine grace of an adult woman. Her scent best resembled grass and salt, the faint essence of something floral. Unmistakingly a female. Hadly the scent that marred his nightmares with something terrible and real.

She was of course strong, abnormally so. He would see her shadow looming over him, the darkness had a liveliness that he would recognize. It was not the inky black spector that had slain Victor, but there was an eerie familiar nature. The shadows here were just wrong.

"We need to finish what we started at the Ball before everything went to hell," she announced. "Troublesome really because I don't think you gave," she was incredibly close to Selim at this point, her voice growing in volume as she drew closer. He could feel something move his hair. "Blunt," she announced. "No blood," she narrated. An odd consideration for a kidnapper, checking for injuries. Truthfully, she wanted to hurt him, not injure him. Even hurt was a bit strong, she could do without hurting him, he was merely a proxy for Jack who proved to be just as elusive as his predecessor Paracelsus.

"You did not give Jack my message have you," she frowned. A learned facial tick to display displeasure. "Which is troublesome," she complained as she backed away. "Means I need to bring him here," she reasoned. "Where is he?" Not that she gave him much time to answer before she peppered him with another. "Should I make you more uncomfortable? Never done this before," she admitted as if she was learning how to golf. "What can I do to be a more effective kidnapper?"

"It takes a monster to destroy a monster."

Selim opened his eyes as the person spoke, voice feminine. His golden orbs rose up and he stared at her blankly, noting the tape discarded on the ground, and the tape coiled unprofessionally around his wrists and ankles.

A raised brow, he looked at her unimpressed, torchlight glinting off the raised areas on the side of his face, scars from the masquerade, still slightly pink against his ghost-like skin.

The girl shifted, standing before him, light against her back making her a vaguely outlined silhouette that brought to surface the scene of Victor Moore's death, his first kill, soon followed by more. He shifted uneasily at the thought, but his eyes betrayed nothing.

Now that she was closer he knew her scent, filing it away vaguely for the future.

Selim wouldn't notice if the shadows were wrong they always shifted, breathed, and were likely unnatural to normal children to his warped perspective. They'd only feel wrong if they acted like shadows should, still, with whatever they're shrouding visible behind their dark stain.

But perhaps they're wrong in the sense that they give off a feeling. Even then it would be hard for the twisted little boy to notice, for his normal state of being was always one of unease. Though, perhaps he noticed a red eye on his malformed shadows, one similar to the thousand that covered his shadow before it snuffed out a young teen's flame.

Whatever it be, he was more focused on the exit, if he could see one.

The whispers had returned to vague murmuring. Selim may seem lonely, but he was never really alone. He always had 'roommates' that loved to take up residence in his head, even if they were basically him, or, more accurately, shards of what he used to be.

Ryan spoke, rather laid-back compared to previous captors he had experienced.



She paused, leaning forward and touching his head, making him pull back in annoyance. Tapping where he knew a bump was forming from her irritatingly strong punches.

She murmured a moge-poge diagnosis of the injury and he let out a sharp exhale of air through his nose, drawling out a response as his hands shifted about idly, loosening the tape. "Internal bleeding is possible, along with a concussion which can be more dangerous even if the wound is actually bleeding." He rolled his shoulders, working out their soreness, "Wouldn't matter, either way, I've dealt with worse, even worse than the lovely additions you kindly gave to my collection of scars from that punch of yours during the masquerade."

She asked him a question that she promptly answered herself, making the snake-like boy raise his brow, obviously unimpressed. Then she asked a question he actually answered, "Haven't the faintest clue, I don't pay much attention to him anymore. More than I can say for him, he seems to enjoy pointlessly observing me when we do meet... which since the year started has been.... once? Twice?" He huffed, pulling free of the tape around his wrists and working on his ankles' binds. "Here's a tip so you can get this little revenge over with. The Fox cares much more about one, 'Flash Holmwood' than he does about me right now. He's basically a mother hen around that boy."

The snake rolled his eyes, revealing his opinion about that topic, "Burnett would be more likely to notice Holmwood's disappearance than mine, better bait. They're roommates as well."

The girl then asked if Selim could give her some tips about kidnapping, which brought an amused smile to the sallow boy's face "I mean, I'll give you a few that would work better on Holmwood, though not me." He paused in his unraveling of the tape around his ankles. "These days, Zipties are much more popular among those that kidnap, instructions on how to use them are on the back of their packages." He yawned, "Also, tie the hands behind the kidnapee's back, harder to get access to. Otherwise, the dungeon is uncomfortable enough."

He rose a brow, "If you're still determined to just kidnap me, well, I won't be telling you anything to make future annoying situations like this more annoying." He rolled his eyes, "I just want this pointless revenge you have with the Fox over with, so I'd even help you kidnap Holmwood. Take it or leave it like this, ineffective and a waste of time you could be using to plot up better schemes."

Truly the boy wasn't in the mood these days to deal with semi-regular kidnapping. At some point, he'd probably snap and try to get rid of Erin in his one, likely more dangerous ways.

Oddly enough, considering the circumstances, Selim was in no danger at all. One might have thought differently considering the lengths the Slytherin went to in her effort to subdue, abscond and poorly restrain the second year. Erin was not the sort for lengthy, tedious plans. She was far too brash and impulsive for a carefully formatted plan. Madness had taken over her reason some time ago.

Selim would see an exit, the arched doorway that would lead into a darkened hall. The room in comparison, more akin to a cell perhaps, was left open. Idle chit chat, she did not seem particularly anxious. Selim would work free from the tape. The muggle implement was incredibly confusing, half sticky and half not.

Unprofessionally done one could suppose.

Erin did not hide her intentions, she was doing this to screw with @Jack Burnett . He represented more than an ex to her, Paracelsus was also and she did not exhibit a similar obsession. As @Jack Warren would know, she had a type. Even @Hugh Lowe , if he was not a monstrous, giant cannibal was looking pretty hot this year. It was how even Erin realized that she was a bit unhinged. But the physical was easy to get, in a hormone soaked castle filled with adolescents. No, he shattered what little there was to her heart.

One good turn deserves another.

Her lack of cleverness was more than made up for in stubbornness.

"I don't believe you," she commented when Selim offered @Flash Holmwood in his place. That Jack did not -care- about him but he did for Flash. In truth, it was more likely he did not likely care for anyone. "Did you know, you were the only of his friends he bothered to introduce?"

The incident likely did not feel real, perhaps a strange scene as she started to talk about the logistics of kidnapping. It was in part her lack of fear, fear of reprisal from authorities as well as from Selim. As for consequences from Jack, well... wouldn't that be entertaining?

He was rather insistent that Holwood would be a better victim. "Jealous" of Holmwood?

Selim would mention zipties. "Zipties," she would repeat. "No clue what those are," she had never even seen a zipper but she had at least heard the term from muggleborns. "The wizard tight was on sale in Hogsmeade, took me all afternoon to figure out that the wizard tight was not self-adhering. Everything is just needlessly hard for muggles," she complained.

In truth, she did not want to -hurt- either of them, not Flash or Selim. They had personally never offended her, just projecting her offense onto them reflected on Jack. "Pfff~" he was not going to let herself be more annoying. She rolled her eyes a bit, "practice makes perfect" she reminded him. She could just jump him again, repeat the process. A fatalistic outlook, that regardless he would likely be dealing with her, an exercise in her pig-headedness.

That said, Selim offered a diversion that would prove more effective than simply breaking free and avoiding her for the remainder of his natural life. That he would assist her in kidnapping Flash. Likely his rival for Jack's attentions, perhaps affections. Who was the damn Veela between them!

There was a pause, Erin's 2 in Wisdom being strained. There was no loss in the scenario, Selim was almost loose, his bindings in front of him, she could clearly see that truth. She could overpower the boy again, there were few her size and none smaller that she could not confidently take down. "Good idea," she concluded. Not that her conclusion was particularly clever, but her thought was thus -- a two'fer. Both Selim who she knew Jack had an interest in, even if he failed to realize it and then Flash Holmwood, the alleged man of interest. If she was wrong, Selim might be right, but more likely they both had formed some sort of attachment. "You done pulling yourself free," she frowned. He stretched out her wizard tight, it was no longer going to be sticky. Thank Merlin she bought several rolls.

"We all fall one day."

Selim pulled out of the bindings on his feet, and stood, looking over as she stubbornly refused to believe his words, he facepalmed. "He didn't meet Holmwood at that time, Ryan, of course, I was the only 'friend' he introduced to you."

He eyed the ductape/'Wizard Tight' with an unimpressed stare. Noting her last words and getting the hint that she thought she had a 'brilliant idea'. Rolling his eyes he rose his brow, "First, practice does not make perfect, and second, there's hardly any need to tie me up, if you're just trying to bait Burnett here then me being, 'missing' should be enough. I honestly don't care if I'm holed up down here, as long as I get the basic necessities needed to live... and homework. I'd rather not fall behind on that." He snorted, "If I'm gone from classes long enough he'll eventually come looking, with Flash missing as well that wait wouldn't be as long."

He stared blandly at her, absently scratching his neck, "From how your acting you obviously don't want to hurt me. Beyond possibly giving a concussion, apparently. I help you get Flash by luring him here, you tie him up, I'll stay in here with him of my own free will, and if he escapes your attempts to kidnap him, I'll make sure he doesn't. Less effort needed on your side."

Selim eyed her, ready to dodge her attempts to tie him up with tape, which she seemed ready to do. He didn't want to fight her again, but would if she attempted to bind him, the second-hand embarrassment from her pitiful attempts was something he didn't want to sit through.

This whole scenario reminded him of when his sensei back at the compound used him as essentially a dummy for the younger killers-in-training so they could test their kidnapping abilities on an actual human. Even then the six-year-olds did better than Ryan was, which was laughable. A statement to how training makes 'perfect' more than stumbling through many mistakes to get to an acceptable level (like Erin was implying she was planning to do.)

Honestly, Erin Ryan was the perfect example as to why Selim didn't intend to 'date' during school. Screw up once and you'll likely have a spiteful ex on your hand, like Jack does.

Honestly, the numbskull should've expected this.

Apparently not.

"Erin," she corrected him. Ryan was a boy's name. "My name is Erin," in case he needed her to be exceptionally clear.

"I don't care if you are restrained," she shrugged. Afterall, he was not the one that she was after but even Selim realized that he was valued by Jack as he made that passive comment. He recognized that being missing, that HIM being missing would draw out Jack. "But you're a better student than me, I avoid the death witches whenever I can," the dath witches being the Professors. "They'll kill you if you let them," she claimed with a factual assurance that one would think the unhinged little girl had learned this from either experience or a reputable source.

He went on about how he would stay of his own volition, his own free will. He was of course right, she did not want to hurt him. Concussion being a bit dramatic, albeit he was right. "I hit people there all the time," she replied. A truth as concerning as that might be, "makes them sleep." Another truth, even if it was a very simple explanation. That was the concussion of course, she just did not know that word. It was specific and medical, it had a muggle explanation and prognosis that she was unfamiliar with and frankly never needed to know.

She did have a question, one thing that she did not quite understand. "Why?" That nagging paranoid question that deserved a place on her lips. "Why are you helping me?" Or more accurately even if she never said it, having me target Flash. She also took note that Selim called Flash by his first name, only early on did he bother to say Holmwood. Not a habit. No, it was a purposeful thing, something he lost sight of after a short time. Limited focus, good to know.

Erin would not make an attempt to restrain him. Not because she did not feel that she could. Not because they suddenly became friends, or at the very least associates with a shared mission. Tape just... sucked. It was all weird and sticky and then it would stick to things she did not want it to. It got stuck in her hair, the bottom of her shoe. So instead, she left Selim to his thoughts.

Screw up once. ONCE! Thank Merlin that sentiment was not verbalized by the weird little not-dhampir boy.

If Selim cared to explain the why, it would likely be an interesting tale. If not, she would simply remember and wonder, seeking an answer he would not provide. Regardless, she would move on. Onto Flash, she was not even sure who that was. She would have met him once before, briefly in passing. Their meeting not particularly memorable, he was just some scrawny (compared to her) underclassman. She had a second question. "How do I find this Flash Holwood.?"

"We all have demons, I just choose to feed mine."

His eyelids lowered in mild annoyance as she spoke her first name, obviously wanting him to use it instead of her last name. Of course, his roots in his culture commanded him to ignore her demands because it was impolite to use a first name with someone you barely know... he forced himself to ignore this. "Fine, Erin." He relented, wanting to end the pointless subject.

He listened to her comments about 'death witches' and tilted his head, brow raised in mild curiosity. "I assume you mean the Professors." He said mildly and continued speaking whether or not she confirmed his assumption. "You hardly need to warn me about them, Erin. I don't trust anyone." His eyes narrowed coldly, "Besides, I don't intend to 'let' anyone kill me either. I hardly show up to classes anyhow. I just hand in the work, it keeps them satisfied enough."

He didn't know why Erin called them 'death witches', especially since that could be considered exclusive as males are called Wizards, not Witches.

No matter.

Her comment about hitting people on the head being able to 'make them sleep' made him let out a long sigh. Her words were simplistic, and he couldn't help but liken it to how Hollywood depicts cavemen.

He eased as she showed no more urge to attempt to use tape on him. Idly, he stretched, and casually sat and lounged as he observed her. Upon hearing her question, he couldn't help but remember a very familiar question being asked by a particular Undertaker he hadn't had contact with for quite a while.

"If you're worried, it's not out of the goodness of my heart." He scoffed at the very idea of such a ridiculous concept, "It's simple, if I help you, I help myself... by keeping you off my back." He looked at her boredly, "If you couldn't tell, I'm not one to enjoy having my secluded life interrupted by other people's problems."

Sighing, he idly scratched his neck, the usual tick coming back, revived by his lack of a weapon on his person. She finally asked the relevant question then. "Flash Holmwood would either be in the Slytherin Common Room, my dorm, the library, or perhaps the courtyard. If you don't know what he looks like, he's a boy, around 5'2-5'4. He has brown hair and blue eyes, acts like a goody-two-shoes with an excessive amount of politeness for a twelve-year-old." He thought back to the time he was trapped in his room with his classmates, and smirked in dark amusement, "He has claustrophobia."

The smirk left as quickly as it came, ""If you can't find him I can go get him for you. If you're concerned I'll try to run you can follow me."

A sadistic part of him was wondering how the boy would react if he was trapped in a room and tied up to become immobile... it would probably be amusing, in a morbid way.

Well, no one said Selim Faust was a good person. Hard to be one when you have blood staining your hands.

"If you couldn't tell, I'm not one to enjoy having my secluded life interrupted by other people's problems."

"Why not," she commented idly as she fussed with a piece of tape she found. Amazing, it stole the dirt. She brought it close to her eye to observe, her finger pressed against the filthy, adhesive side that was no longer tacky. 'Hmmm' she observed. "I might not have what you have, but--" she stopped herself. Why bother? He will simply deny, debate or relent but not mean it. "--Nevermind," she dismissed the sentiment. Perhaps it was just another way she was alone.

"Flash Holmwood would either be in the Slytherin Common Room, my dorm, the library, or perhaps the courtyard. If you don't know what he looks like, he's a boy, around 5'2-5'4. He has brown hair and blue eyes, acts like a goody-two-shoes with an excessive amount of politeness for a twelve-year-old."

They had met once before but she did not recall his name. He did not make a lasting impression on her. Still, Selim went on to describe the quarry. About what Flash looked like, where Flash could be found. Even the assurance that Selim would find him and help. he was eager to help, she believed it was more than to divert Erin's attention to another victim, she had a terrible potential but at the moment she was nothing more than a blonde nuisance. Someone that could have been diverted a dozen other ways had Selim the ambition or the care, which in this matter he did not, to try. A grudge? A passing fancy? An impulsive act.

There was only one missing fact, the one fact that Erin sought. She cast the wad of tape aside, it was no longer sticky and therefore it must have died. Muggle things were incredibly finite it would appear. She cocked her head to the side and asked Faust the one truth she wanted to know. "Why is it that Jack treasures him?" In truth, it was doubt. Not a 'why Flash?' Rather, a 'why not Selim' and of course in that dry, dark heart why not me? She would never ask, leaving it at the vaguest of --whys--. She believed that Selim was the one that Jack treasured the most. Of course she knew nothing of Ruka and their unusual closeness. She also knew nothing of the late Victor Moore whom Selim's own rotting darkness slain.

What she wanted was to hurt Jack, his friends merely proxies because more pain was felt when there were losses among those one holds dear first. She had every intention of finding Jack as well, it had been nearly a year since he broke her heart and indeed she was still nursing a grudge. She approached Selim, unarmed of course but there was something concerning about her expression. Eyes too wide, lips too thin, head a bit askew. She was lovely, not that Selim likely noticed or cared, but she was also wrong.

This was the time that Selim should run. But if curiosity, indifference or lack of attention got the better of him and he stayed, a strange event would transpire. Erin would attempt to embrace Selim. Long spidermonkey-like arms with tense, coiled muscles that were well beyond what one would expect from a teenage girl, would wrap around him and he would feel her uncanny strength as she took a tight grip. This is of course if he stood his ground; if he did not flee. Perhaps he did not notice her shamble towards him. Perhaps he as playing the role of a calm co-conspirator and suppressed his survival instincts for the greater good, or in the case of this ill-gotten union, the greater evil. If he ran, she would not pursue. For the moment they were not enemies, not that they ever were. He was simply a tool, a means to an end with Jack, Erin's obsession.

But if Selim found himself trapped in Erin's arms, he would feel her breath as she took in deeply of his scent. She felt warm, too warm to be in this chilly basement. Thoughts of romance aside, this was not an embrace filled with love, passion or even ill-intentions, rather it was a mechanical movement. Something that was perhaps apparent if the youth was paying attention, how eyes can appear so hollow yet full of such intention. How her frame remained stiff, it did not meld into his. How it was also not cruel, merely a product of her incredible strength. Moreover, her scent would be strange. Stale. Inhuman. Like clay or stone. "Full of rot," she would simply announce and relinquish her grip if she had one before she would turn away. [Obviously if you evaded or fled, this never happened.]

If he was running, evading her grip or now escaping it; perhaps even standing there dumbfounded, she would say the same thing. "You were likely more valued," she would announced loud enough for him to here. Her hand made a dismissive wave.

No need to fight when a deal can be made instead. She was many things, but she was true to her word.

"Dark souls often wear white." - Pratik Khandagale

Why did Jack treasure Flash? "I haven't the faintest clue. That boy tends to gather up people to claim as his own like one gathers chocolate frogs, and when he gets a new card, he often disposes or ignores his old ones, much like he's done with you, and to a degree, me. All I know is that it's gotten to the point that he makes an effort to protect Flash from me." He observed Erin with calculating eyes.

He watched as she steadily grew more... intense, and wrong. It didn't affect him too much seeing as how he lived in a world that was always unnerving, but it tickled the back of his brain, triggering an instinct of danger. She was no hallucination, she was blighted physically, and likely spiritually. His mind flashed back to the fall ball, how she looked so wrong under that green light, how he had filed those facts away into the degrading labyrinth of his mind. Unlike Selim, it seemed she had physically become less human along with mentally.

Frame tense, he took a step back, though, he said he'd stay there, he really wanted to run in that moment... but of course, that dark little voice in his head knew that a new puzzle piece could be revealed if he lingered.

Curiosity is dangerous.

He probably would've ignored it and ran had a loud noise only he could hear distracted him, conjured by his heightened fear. He snapped his head over in the direction, hardly thinking clearly enough to realize it was likely a fake noise his crumbling mental state had conjured up.

Of course at that moment the girl 'hugged' him, Selim felt that it was more like a python trapping prey though. He tried to jerk against her grip, but realized quite quickly that she was stronger than him, hardly a surprise.

He felt her inhale deeply, and tensed, eyes going unfocused in light of the more unsavoury memories that rose in his mind. He let out a sharp hiss, snapping himself out of it as he felt his pulse race with mild terror.

He noted her earthy smell, subconscious desperately trying to file the information away. Then, she spoke something. It was a fact, one that he knew well enough, he hardly needed it confirmed by this 'girl'.

"Full of rot."

He jerked out of her grip, only because she let him. His frame was shaking, though it may have not been from the recent terror Erin bestowed so kindly upon him, but rather an echo of it from times long past. He took in a deep breath, and released it slowly, turning around and looking at her coldly, in an unfeeling sort of way. His voice rang with dry humor.

"Oh? Tell me something I don't know." His fingers twitched "Likely the only blessing I get from that fact is that it keeps away unsavoury creatures that love the taste of innocent souls." He drawled, eyeing her. The only positive of being tainted for the rest of your life? Demons, and being like hags perhaps, don't want to, you know, devour your soul.

Her next words made him pause, casting her an impassive expression, "Perhaps I once was. I quickly made sure that was no longer a fact though. Leave him to his habit of trying to fix people he knows nothing about."

He had shifted so he was closer to the exit of the door, none of the caution of that action showing on his face. "Would you prefer I stay here while you search for Holmwood? Or are we leaving this for another day?" He cocked his head, hands by his sides with his chopsticks being hidden by his long white sleeves along with his hands.

Obviously, Erin Ryan was rather close to snapping, much like he himself was... but from the information he's gathered about her, the outcomes of her breaking were going to be much... much different.

(Though I suppose Selim making a creepy rabbit puppet and giving it the voice of the Cruel One, then proceeding to converse with it like it was an actual human was almost equally unsettling to most.)