Another harrowing eve had passed, and the fleshy shell that was Zynisch's former body had not been restored to its former, human glory. Instead, he remained bound to this humbling entity that he ultimately knew very little about. Yakumo, the Armor of Kusanagi....Honestly, he wondered just what purpose being linked to another on a fundamental level of existence could even have in battle. It hardly mattered what Zynisch wished, as his function in their overtly symbiotic relationship was relatively limited once his 'other' had taken to the battlefield. He wasn't entirely certain he could fully interpret Yakumo's thoughts. Could they even converse in that jumbled mess they called a consciousness"
"You've quite the active mind, my troubled host..." Well, that answered that question. Quietly leering at the entrance to the coven from atop a thick branch amidst the surrounding forest, the spiritual mail would rouse from its solemn reverie in order to properly greet its hosts mind. Thankful regarding the respect with which Yakumo apparently treated him, he responded, albeit somewhat apprehensive when it came to talking to himself....in the presence of another. Oi, this was complicated.
'Forgive me....It's not often I'm greeted by my own mind....So to speak. So, you are Yakumo, then" It's been a while since I last awoke. Being rendered vestigial in my own mind is a rather tiring thing to process.'
"Agreed. It is oft that those who would attempt to wield my form fail to properly synchronize with me. Ultimately, most are overcome; however, you remain. I should think this a frightful, if not novel twist on the idea of fate." Yakumo's sleek frame would fold one of its knees against its metallic chest to provide a bit of comfort to his host, a lengthy arm perching leisurely upon said knee. Odd....Utilizing Izanami and Izanagi against Zynisch's foes had left his body feeling rather cold and bereft of emotion. By contrast, the mere act of conversing with his requisite mental partner was a becalming endeavor. The vaunted knight in ancient clothing was, to put it bluntly, quite the stalwart sweetheart.
'That said....I heard you were poised to have me reclaim full control of my body. I find it interesting that with all your power you don't desire to override the whims of your 'captive', figuratively speaking. Why not simply do away with me as you had with the others"' The question, though wholly inquisitive in nature was met with a somewhat riled response from his martial ally.
"You would liken me unto that puppeteer of yours" We may have separate minds, but the corridors by which we travel are similar. Do not place me in the same caste as that fiendish malefactor..." All right, so Scionius was a touchy subject for both parties. Perhaps the antiquated armor's glimpse into Zynisch's mind had unearthed some dangerous memories unique to its consciousness? The stoic academic would let that proverbial train of thought derail itself before it brought too much of a schism between them. Already, theirs had been a union of mutual convenience as opposed to an outright friendship. The fact that they were able to share words with one another at all was a blessing under the guise of happenstance.
"In that case, I have one thing to request of you before I return to my slumber...' Yakumo would lift his headpiece in waiting, curious to ascertain just what his host could desire. So long as he'd appropriated his form, he might as well be of use to the poor Hume. 'I need you to find my brother, Arthour for me. He might not know who you are, but he would likely be able to sense me. I'd rather you be able to walk around the grounds freely without the threat of assault on you. Either way, I'm certain you'd be welcomed once they learned of you proper.' It did not take long for the imposingly tall suit of alloy and spiritual energy to lunge from its perch and assume a crouching-to-standing posture after he impacted with the ground. Truly a mass-laden fellow, that one.
"You have my word....I will see to it you are able to reconvene with your kin. Chances are that once you reveal my existence to your company-in-waiting that we might be swarmed with encounters. If you're prepared to brave the fallout from that certain outcome, let us be off." His heavy footfalls leaving a less-than-inconspicuous trail in his wake, the knight and his disembodied charge would set about in their short trek toward Bristle Crios, the latter drifting back to sleep with the anticipation that he might be permitted an audience with the others again...
"You've quite the active mind, my troubled host..." Well, that answered that question. Quietly leering at the entrance to the coven from atop a thick branch amidst the surrounding forest, the spiritual mail would rouse from its solemn reverie in order to properly greet its hosts mind. Thankful regarding the respect with which Yakumo apparently treated him, he responded, albeit somewhat apprehensive when it came to talking to himself....in the presence of another. Oi, this was complicated.
'Forgive me....It's not often I'm greeted by my own mind....So to speak. So, you are Yakumo, then" It's been a while since I last awoke. Being rendered vestigial in my own mind is a rather tiring thing to process.'
"Agreed. It is oft that those who would attempt to wield my form fail to properly synchronize with me. Ultimately, most are overcome; however, you remain. I should think this a frightful, if not novel twist on the idea of fate." Yakumo's sleek frame would fold one of its knees against its metallic chest to provide a bit of comfort to his host, a lengthy arm perching leisurely upon said knee. Odd....Utilizing Izanami and Izanagi against Zynisch's foes had left his body feeling rather cold and bereft of emotion. By contrast, the mere act of conversing with his requisite mental partner was a becalming endeavor. The vaunted knight in ancient clothing was, to put it bluntly, quite the stalwart sweetheart.
'That said....I heard you were poised to have me reclaim full control of my body. I find it interesting that with all your power you don't desire to override the whims of your 'captive', figuratively speaking. Why not simply do away with me as you had with the others"' The question, though wholly inquisitive in nature was met with a somewhat riled response from his martial ally.
"You would liken me unto that puppeteer of yours" We may have separate minds, but the corridors by which we travel are similar. Do not place me in the same caste as that fiendish malefactor..." All right, so Scionius was a touchy subject for both parties. Perhaps the antiquated armor's glimpse into Zynisch's mind had unearthed some dangerous memories unique to its consciousness? The stoic academic would let that proverbial train of thought derail itself before it brought too much of a schism between them. Already, theirs had been a union of mutual convenience as opposed to an outright friendship. The fact that they were able to share words with one another at all was a blessing under the guise of happenstance.
"In that case, I have one thing to request of you before I return to my slumber...' Yakumo would lift his headpiece in waiting, curious to ascertain just what his host could desire. So long as he'd appropriated his form, he might as well be of use to the poor Hume. 'I need you to find my brother, Arthour for me. He might not know who you are, but he would likely be able to sense me. I'd rather you be able to walk around the grounds freely without the threat of assault on you. Either way, I'm certain you'd be welcomed once they learned of you proper.' It did not take long for the imposingly tall suit of alloy and spiritual energy to lunge from its perch and assume a crouching-to-standing posture after he impacted with the ground. Truly a mass-laden fellow, that one.
"You have my word....I will see to it you are able to reconvene with your kin. Chances are that once you reveal my existence to your company-in-waiting that we might be swarmed with encounters. If you're prepared to brave the fallout from that certain outcome, let us be off." His heavy footfalls leaving a less-than-inconspicuous trail in his wake, the knight and his disembodied charge would set about in their short trek toward Bristle Crios, the latter drifting back to sleep with the anticipation that he might be permitted an audience with the others again...