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The petite subordinate sighed lightly and crossed her arms, but her expression changed into one of serenity. Even Narien didn't know about her secret, and it felt like a great deal of weigh was shifted off of her after telling the truth to her "counterpart." She wrinkled her nose at the thought, but she knew sooner or later that they would have to get along.

"Emyrus," she said quietly, "be absolutely sure that you're not bleeding when you teleport back to the mansion." It was most likely safer to stay in the White Building for a day, just in case Lord Evanescere was craving more so than usual. She frowned in disgust.

Fidel turned to look at the man sitting next to her again, her face intent. There was an odd, interesting feeling stirring about in her soul, something more or less like the one she felt coming from the liar a few moments ago. She'd have to pinpoint it sooner or later, because foreign emotions were rare in her perspective.

"And try not to wander around too much, either." she added calmly. Lord Vash's hostility towards Emyrus was well-known.

Fidel's lips curved down into a petite frown, her eyebrows creasing at his comment.

"I think you're overlooking the fact that you trapped Halycon in a nightmarish reality and quite literally sent him into the clutches of his own father, Emyrus," she pointed out, an edge on her tone. "If it weren't for you, he would still be alive, which means Lord Vash wouldn't lock himself up in his room all the time." Which, of course, was really the only reason she cared about whether Halycon died or not. Although, his death did give her a certain advantage...

The girl shook her head and looked up at the liar. Her soul tingled in that oddly serene, alien feeling, and she sighed. "Stay away from the basement, too," she added. "If Halycon doesn't detect your soul, Lord Vash will."

It didn't quite occur to her that she was worried.

With Emyrus's understanding of the situation, Fidel felt oddly content.

"It's not that I mind what you did," she grinned devilishly. "I thought it was a wonderful idea, although it did put the both of us in a precarious position." Being Lord Evanescere's guinea pig wasn't exactly an ideal occupation, but his offer from many years ago still lingered in her mind stubbornly.

She shifted her blue eyes to the man next to her again and frowned in disapproval of the persistent bleeding. "It should have stopped by now," she said. "I didn't punch that hard...right?" The girl glanced at her tiny fists. Hm.

At first, she frowned at Emyrus's unfortunate condition, but her sapphire eyes soon turned to glare at him in a more disapproving fashion. The smile he flashed at her made her soul almost snarl.

"Stop that," she snapped heatedly. "Just because you're used to anything doesn't mean it's right." She may not agree with the soul connection Lord Evanescere forced upon the two of them, but she would see to it that the both of them would survive each other's company, even if she had to grab the man by the shoulders and shake him senseless. A resolved expression came to her face, and she continued to glare up at the liar.

"You're ridiculous, you know that," she said lightly, finally closing her eyes. "If you plan on surviving this, you're going to have to change." Fidel opened her eyes again. A person can only change when they want to change. If they don't, then there was no use trying to help them. She glanced up at him.

"Okay?"

Everything seemed to be crashing down around him.

Something to keep my mind busy... he thought absently, back still facing Halycon. A sudden, familiar presence of a certain somebody made him clench his fists. Just the person he wanted to see. What business did he have in the White Building aside from pissing him off?

The noble opened his eyes and left his counterpart without another word. He wouldn't speak with him for a while, he knew, and his soul winced in regret. Now was a wonderful time to plot, and a thought passed through his mind quickly. A wicked grin curled onto his lips.

That was a pleasant place to begin.

((Hur, I'd type out what he was plotting, but that would give it away. Just know that he's being more of a b*****d than usual. ;D))

He was never exactly one to underestimate things; he was a firm believer in the idea that overestimating will save you trouble. You go into a war, prepared to fight the Devil himself and all of his little beasties, only to find that the enemy is nothing but a half-baked army with some shiny equipment. That was generally how he liked to go into things: prepared to face his death and ready to fight the good fight. And then there were little incidents like this where he completely slipped in fell, cursing on the way down at whoever spilled goddamn water on the floor.

But really, why was he supposed to know she could see through him?

Quite the unnerving thought, that. If things had started to go the wrong way, and he thought that his plans would collapse on him, then he always relied on a rather large number of little white lies to get him out of said tight spot. But even more than getting out of trouble, it was never letting someone know who he really was or how he truly felt that gave him the edge. It was his knight in shining armor, and saved his sanity on many occasions.

How lovely that that ability wasn't going to work against Fidel anymore.

"Yeah, whatever," Emyrus grumbled, tossing his tissue out before swiping another.

While he was just fine with the silence, especially considering that he felt naked, in a sense. Relying on skill instead of abilities would take quite a while to get used to, and until then, he was an open book - and to Fidel of all people. However, when the slight girl cleared her throat, he glanced over at her. She seemed almost rigid, as if a mallet labeled awkward hit her square in the face. Just as he was about to ask what was wrong, he could hear a faint but heated arguement through what he could only describe as his soul. It took som effort, but he could hear every word spoken.

And then it was over, and she was refusing to look at him. He thought he could feel guilt and frustration, but he might have been hallucinating. Then Fidel was on her feet. His nose had contented to heal at last, and he tossed the tissue out as he heard her feet, presumably headed towards the door.

"What are you doing, Emyrus! Get off the floor and go after her! Be a man and a least make it up to her! You're the one causing problems!"

Don't you think I know that? Shut up and back off. If I'm causing so many problems, then she should just say so. I can't base an arguement off of tainted evidence.

"Yes, you can! And you should! Get off your a** this instant!"

Make me, Emyrus growled, ending the brief arguement with his soul he was so sure Fidel could hear. The only response was a sputtering noise and silence.

It was true. If Fidel wanted his help, she should just say what was wrong.