The Wings of Freedom [Demonica]

Thoughts. . they could be quite the cumbersome thing couldn’t they? Being stuck in this endless cycle of doubt and self loathing. It was a vicious thing, and it seemed to only propagate itself further, rising with the paranoia, growing stronger with the negativity that dwelt and fed off uncertainty and unrest. Demonica was there, and yet she wasn’t as her friend grasped the ice-cream from the vendor and began to make her way across the crowded square. Demonica moved, she walked with her, but her mind seemed to be for all intents and purposes a million miles away, somewhere distant, trapped within the machinations of her own mind. It could be seen because the demoness didn’t study her surroundings inquissically, instead she stared ahead, a befuddled expression crinkling across her normally beautiful features. It was an expression of worry that adorned her face, and it was one that lingered there.

Demonica truly didn’t pay attention to their surroundings initially, she merely let the wild roaming thoughts within her head move out of control. Let them bash against one another, piggy backing off one another to work her mind into this state of frenzy. Truly the longer they walked, the worse off that demonica’s mind seemed to be working itself out to be--until they stopped, demonica hadn’t even the faintest inkling that they had just been walking. It was only once that monotonous motion of putting one foot infront of the other ceased, that demonica seemed to break free from her revere. Ruby eyes swept the surroundings, taking in the faint sights, and the lovely fountain that glistened from the faint skylight that was above. Demonica took in the icecream, took in the secluded table and her partners mannerisms.

Demonica. . . didn’t really share what she had been through, nor did she give an explanation for her lapse in conversation, and lapse in well paying attention. She walked past the prodigy and sat silently in the chair. Her lips pursue as she accepted the offering of ice cream with both hands. Looking down at it, as if it was the most interesting and contrary thing in the world. Her nose crinkled slightly as she sniffed and took in the different scents and aromas of this delectable treat. It was like a wild animal cautiously approaching some strange scrap of meat on the ground, she was obviously intrigued by it, but it was her pride and wariness that had her testing out what it was before she actually partook in it. It would be kind of funny really to watch a being that could for all intents and purposes erase continents snif this lonely bit of frozen milk with fruit as it if was some super dangerous substance that needed to be identified. . . .

--Or, it could be that she just didn’t want to meet the eyes of the prodigy, out of embarrassment for her previous actions. Was it wrong of her, acting as if everything was strange and unknown here? Maybe, maybe it was brash and not quite as tactful as the demoness should be, but she wasn’t really worried with that thought. Rather she took her time, studying the ice cream before she hesitantly allowed her soft pink tongue to slip from beneath her lips, to run across the side of the chilled treat. She didn’t take much of it back into her mouth, but you could still see if you paid attention, a faint gleam in her eyes as she shivered in delight from the refreshing taste, and texture of the ice cream.

She was obviously not used to treats such as this, and it could be seen as she took another faint bite of it, her lips encircling a portion of the cone before she ate the icecream, her face one of bliss as she processed the different textures, almost forgetting herself for a moment before she blinked faintly and said in a soft voice.

”Sorry. . I was lost in thought it seems.”

Demonica wasn’t one to apologies for anything, and yet here she was in a setting where what she did, didn’t kill anyone--and she still was apologising to sofia. The concept of pride that demonica had, was such that the fact that she was willing to apologies was a feat on it’s own right. In their own little bubble, demonica continued to study sofia, taking in her mannerisms and her speech, her posture. Even as she continued to snack upon the frozen treat, she was still trying to figure out the why--why she was being treated so nicely. Infact when sofia said they were going to move on to the more unsavory conversations, you could almost see the faint change in demonica’s demeanor.

It was as if to her this all made sense now, as if she had been buttered up for some reason. It was most likely a misconception, which was why the demon didn’t rashly lash out, but it was obvious that demonica was weary because of that statement, momentarily stopping her munching on the cone that she had at this point almost completely devoured--ice cream and all--and stared at the prodigy, waiting for the girl to say her peace, and hoping that the girl had only invited her here to do what they where, and not to make use of her for some means.

There it was. The proverbial why, the explanation as to why sofia had even bothered to take her here in the first place. However, contrary to her original expectation it was not a thing that sofia wanted her to do, but rather it was a change in lifestyle that the girl seemed to be hinting that the Demoness undergo. It was an interesting notion, that maybe she was on the wrong side of the tracks so to speak, that the things she had done had been for the wrong reasons. . . and demonica pondered that as she finished the last morsel of ice cream, that very little tiny bit that usually clung to the bottom of the cone, melted but delicious nonetheless. She took her time, chewing that last bit--savoring the flavor as she contemplated just how she was wanting to answer the question that was being afforded to her.

As sofia seemed to wait, rather keen on the answer that demonica might bring up. She sighed faintly and let out a faint chuckle before she arched a brow to the girl before her. It wasn’t that she was against deliberating and answering the question that had been posed to her. It wasn’t that she was against taking the door that had been wedged slightly ajar for her, to see where it would lead. No there was more to it than simply the inclination that the demoness had, the whim that was telling her that maybe this was the right decision to make. That maybe, just maybe there was something for her, a place that she could belong, a place of being that would be her own home. Which was why instead of answering outright the demoness paused and said faintly.

”Why do you assume so much?”

The demoness was certianly not rude when it came to the way she privied this question. It was more like a curiousity than a mocking gest. It boded well for the quincy though, because demonica didn’t once seem to scorn the idea of change. . . she was merely mulling it over, letting it toss and turn through her head until she came to the conclusion that she wished. Eventually after another few seconds that would probably feel like an eternity the demoness let her elbows come to rest against the table, chin cradled in her hands as she spoke in a very blunt, very to the point manner.

”Because while i am not adverse to change. . and admittedly in pondry due to the wondrous things that have been shown. The. . acceptance which i doubted could be possible for one of my kind, i still don’t understand what you get out of this. What you have is a hunch, a feeling that i could be so much more than a rampant beast that simply will destroy. While you are correct, you are the first to come to this conclusion. . so i can’t help but ask. “

The way she phrased it was not rude, it was not hurtful, it was merely searching as she gazed into Sofia’s eyes she would ask very faintly, as if curious, and yet afraid to know the answer

”why? Why go to such great lengths”