Spirits of the Earth

Kyran was not the studious sort.

In fact, a library was about the last place he ever wanted to be.

He was literate enough. He could read, for his father had smacked his letters into his head growing up, but he never enjoyed it. He'd always found it difficult to pay attention, his mind wandering to everything and anything else, but he grasped enough to get by if he could only focus. Yet today he found himself standing awkwardly between one of the many aisles of Arca's library, staring vacantly at the many spines of so many different tomes.

Where did he even begin...?

How did anyone find anything here?

And how did he make it seem totally innocuous and not a bit suspicious?

Just a few days earlier, his father had dealt him a metaphorical punch to the gut: guess what, Kyran, your mother wasn't actually an elf--she was a demon! And to make it even more fun, you were definitely not planned or wanted. There was no romance. There was no love. There wasn't even consent. She was a succubus--which explained so, so much about his life, and yet...

His skin crawled and he shivered, rubbing at his sleeves. He wished he had never been told. Wished he could stay blissfully unaware. Then he wouldn't have to feel so suddenly sick about his own existence, so worried his only family maybe secretly resented him, so--no. Deep breaths. He had already gone down this path and it went nowhere good. He understood why his father told him; members of The Order of the Moon were in town and his father felt it was time he knew--for his own safety. Just in case.

They killed demons, after all.

With a low, tired sigh, Kyran gave up on the aisle he was in and moved to the next, but he was less actively searching so much as wasting time. His mind was racing and hadn't stopped since he'd received the news. Did he really want to know more?

Yes. Probably. Maybe he'd also stumble upon something there that could fix him.

He was having zero luck, though. Would the library even carry information about demons in the first place? There had to be some rhyme or reason to how this place was laid out! Stepping out of the aisle and frowning, beginning to grow frustrated at his lack of progress, he swept a look around the place for anyone who looked somewhat competent--ah! There! That guy looked pretty smart!

He was dressed head to toe in white, tucked away in a corner with a book and wearing such an intense expression that Kyran wondered if the book had personally kicked his pet dog. But that just had to mean he was knowledgeable or something, concentrating hard like that. Plus it looked like a pretty big book. Someone dumb wouldn't be reading a brick like that!

Hopeful, he headed over to the man, paused a moment, then lightly touched his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, uh, sorry! Don't mean to bother, but do you like...know where stuff is...?" Oh, he couldn't be more vague! But as he drew closer, he also couldn't help but notice that beneath the screwed up expression, the guy was...pretty cute...smooth brown skin, most of it hidden beneath pristine clothing, contrasting with blond hair that looked like it would feel so soft between his fingers...

No! No! Bad! Focus!

Despite the impressive frown and deeply furrowed brow, this was Padca at his most content - tucked into a corner of his library, hunched over a fascinating tome. To one side sat a haphazard pile of papers, the nearest one trapped under his wrist as his hand hovered above it with a pen clutched in gloved fingers - periodically he would scribble something down. Whatever he was scrawling was entirely illegible, not necessarily due to the fact he was writing without looking, but rather due to using a shorthand he created himself. The books he handled were far too precious to even think of writing into directly, so the notes helped him track his thoughts and notate where specific passages were that he wished to go back over in more depth later.

So engrossed was he that he did not notice the approach of one of the library's mundane visitors, until the brush of pressure against his shoulder sent a harsh chill down his spine. Padca snapped upright like he'd been shocked, and that furious frown was quickly aimed up at the stranger, sharp silver-blue eyes flashing.
This is what gave people such a poor first impression of him - he looked quite pissed, but the truth was he simply didn't know how to relax his face...and the emotion brightening his gaze was genuine surprise...
Sadly, his interpersonal skills didn't exactly help his situation.

He blinked once, hard, at Kyran as he tried to gather his thoughts after being so abruptly pulled out of his focus, the phantom of touch lingering - luckily it truly had been a light tap. He then stood in one quick motion that swept his chair back silently and saw his pen rested carefully, everything graceful and smooth, until he turned to fully face the other man and his posture locked, arms held stiffly behind his back (to keep his hands out of awkward 'handshake' range, a habit he picked up).

Despite being a few inches shorter, Padca practically stared down at Kyran with a sort of imperious air, frown still firmly in place and his brows just as deeply furrowed as before. Of course, unbeknownst to his poor caller, Padca was simply giving him all of his attention and that...well...his face was just Like This.
"Yes, as I am employed here. I am not, however, one of the librarians - which is who you should ordinarily bring these queries to. However, as you have already asked me, I will endeavor to help. What do you require assistance finding?"
His tone was curt and cold, no unnecessary inflection placed on his words. His intense gaze did not waver away from Kyran even once as he awaited a response, brain already trying to anticipate what this man might require help finding.

In a detached sort of fashion, he did a quick catalogue of the man in front of him - his clothes were clean but simple, so likely nothing so distasteful as nobility, and he seemed young...though if those were the pointed ears of an elf or similar, there was no telling the truth of his age by appearance alone. His assessing glance did trip slightly over the tattoos under his eyes - something about them itched the part of his brain crammed full of old, esoteric information - but he chose to move on from them; it was not his business where or how people chose to alter their bodies. Overall his assessment was thus - a commoner of some description, but with the sort of fine, flawless features that spoke of one with good geneology, and most likely with at least basic education if he was actively seeking books.

Padca fully anticipated having to find some perfectly mundane tome or section.

Oh snap.

Now the guy was looking at him like he'd kicked his dog. Maybe even poisoned it. The way he had snapped to attention caught Kyran off guard, making him jump a little, and when those stormy eyes focused on him, he thought that maaaybe he should leave this man be and seek out someone who didn't look like he wanted to poison him, too.

Until this man, he hadn't realized it was possible to look down on someone while looking up. Yet somehow he pulled it off flawlessly!

Big yikes.

"Oh, uh, well..." Crap. Why was he here again? Between the man's intimidating aura, intense gaze, regal posture, and frankly stupidly attractive face, everything important had flown straight out of Kyran's brain. For a moment he was helpless to do little more than stare, fumbling for words and thrown completely off guard. He felt like an intruder now, but the man was still offering to help. Coldly and curtly, but offering all the same.

He was a little scary, to be honest.

"I...er, I was just wondering--for no particular reason!" he quickly added, holding up his hands. "I was wondering if there were any, y'know, books here about like...demons or...?" He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing crazy, really! I don't want to summon them or anything bad like that!" Oof. Maybe he could have left that part out. "Just pure information, that's all!""

That wasn't suspicious or anything. Scrambling for more excuses, he quickly added, "I'm just curious, really! The Order's in town, right, and...and I always thought they were neat. Wanted to see what kinds of things they go up against, you know?" He paused. "That's not weird, right? Maybe it's a little weird. I'm sorry, your face is really distracting!"

He clamped his mouth shut with a slight click of teeth and wished for the ground to swallow him. It wasn't like him to get frazzled so easily, but his father's news had left him uncharacteristically paranoid. It felt like now that he knew, everyone else could see through him, too. Like he had lived an entire twenty-two years as some sort of fraud and any little mistake would out him. Plus, he wasn't lying--the guy did have a distracting face. Moody, but cute...

...And this was so not the time to be thinking that.

Well.

Mundane topic it was not.

Padca attempted to parse the relevant pieces of information from the veritable flood of words coming out of this man's mouth - sadly, Padca was not exactly unused to this sort of verbal hemorrhaging. It was a distressingly common phenomenon, but not without its uses - he was smart enough to realize people tended to say more than they meant to when they were nervously chattering away.

His frown was growing more pronounced as a suspicion began to solidify - that this man surely did want information about demons but was likely being less than honest as to why, which was a dangerous enough prospect on its own and-

I'm sorry, your face is really distracting!"

-it was a bit like getting suddenly struck over the head. So utterly caught off guard was he that he actually rocked back slightly, and his face broke into a look of pure surprise. The unfurling of that perpetual furrow let his eyebrows arch high, eyes wide, and the frown relaxed as his lips parted slightly - the sharp contrast left him looking more the young man that he was, open and unguarded for one long moment.

Pale lashes fluttered as he visibly attempted to wrap his brain around the sudden change in topic, before his face slowly pulled back into its usual expression - albeit a much more confused version. Bewildered, one gloved hand unconsciously came up from behind his back, fingers just barely brushing his own jaw as he frowned down to one side.
"My...face...??" His voice was quiet, clearly puzzling to himself aloud.
He had been told on many an occasion that he often had a 'sour expression' on, or that he was too 'stern in countenance', but he wasn't sure anyone had ever insinuated his face itself was the problem. Was it a problem?? Or perhaps he truly had simply meant his expression...yes, surely that was more likely.

Holding onto his tentative interpretation, Padca cleared his throat and quickly pulled his hand back to rest with the other behind him, gaze again firm and in place on Kyran's own. Moving on then...there were far more pressing matters than a handsome stranger's opinion about his own appearance.
"You need not apologize, for I am aware of my own expressions. Regardless, I must ask that you be honest with me about why you are searching for such information. If you wish to learn how to hunt demons, you would be better off availing the Order itself. If you want to know how dangerous demons can be, any common folk story will serve its purpose as a cautionary tale - simplified and exaggerated, but easy to remember. Anything beyond that speaks to a personal interest, of which there are only so many options, a few of which it would not be prudent for me to enable or encourage."

The man rocked back as though he'd been slapped, and Kyran kind of wanted a bookcase to fall over and crush him. Oh dear. He knew how that probably sounded and that was not what he meant! It did have an unintended side effect, though, in that the surprise and...little glimpse of vulnerability, perhaps...took years off his features, and even made him look slightly less terrifying.

Kyran felt a full-body cringe work its way down from his shoulders to his toes. He had made some terrible first impressions in his life, but this truly had to be one of the most awkward.

He started to open his mouth, ready to try to save this somehow as the man quietly puzzled over his face comment, but the man recovered rather well, all things considered. And, surprisingly, he didn't bite off his head for it.

He may as well have, though, because his words made Kyran's stomach drop.

Personal interest? Uhhhhhh...

"What? No. No, no, no!" Kyran said, firmly shaking his head and waving his hands. "It's not like that! I don't want to fight demons or anything, either! It's not...personal, it's..." Gods. This man was far too perceptive. Dangerously so! Kyran shifted his weight awkwardly, trying not to look as guilty as he felt, feeling quite like he was being interrogated without being interrogated. 

"So like, it's my...huh." He paused a moment and looked toward the ceiling, scrambling for an explanation that would make sense without giving away too much. "It's my...friend." Gods help him, he was a terrible liar. "He thinks he's being...visited, maybe? By a demon of some sort? But maybe it's something else! Anyway, he insisted it's nothing, but I don't think it's nothing, but he can't read so I came here for him, see. You know, to try to see if we could figure it out, see how worried I should be—I mean, he. How worried he should be."

He winced again, curling his hands into fists at his sides so he didn't bury his face in his hands like he wanted to. "And no, he'd prefer not to involve the Order just yet! It might be nothing, or at least something he can take care of on his own with, say, I don't know...salt or something, maybe? Ah, there has to be something like that here, right? A totally harmless book that deals with topics like that?"

Padca knew himself well enough, he'd like to think. There were many lurking shadows, that was true, but he was at least observant enough to know the way his presence often affected others. He was not lying when he said he was aware of his own expressions - even if he did not do so consciously, those around him had not been remiss in alerting him to it. This was not the first time he had someone pinned with the intensity of his stare, forced to watch them squirm with growing discomfort and nerves under the weight of his undivided attention.
While it often squeezed the lies right out of a person, Padca had to admit it was tiresome to witness - it wasn't as though he were trying to be intimidating!
Suddenly reminded of his old master's jokes about what a 'good teacher' Padca could make - that none of his students would dare slack off for fear of his disapproving glare! - Padca's face twisted a little with disgruntlement.

At the end of the truly abysmal attempt at a lie, Padca's breath escaped him in a gusty sigh, finger and thumb coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose right between his eyes. Do not get frustrated, Padca. You have offered your help and you need follow through on your words. Or, more likely, you need dissuade this man of whatever poorly conceived plan he has come up with that involves demons of all things.

On a deep and calming breath, Padca returned to his stiff 'parade rest' like pose, and this time consciously chose to frown at Kyran with his full disappointment - suddenly his neutral expression seemed almost friendly in comparison.
"I'll ask you to not insult my intelligence, sir. You are lying to me at the same time as you are asking for my assistance. Knowledge is power - knowledge is dangerous. Do you understand? If I furnish you with information on something as volatile as demons, and you or others are harmed as a result, then the responsibility for that is mine as well. Being tricked is not the same as failing to do my due diligence."

Finally, he eased up on the visible disdain, and sighed a little once again. Really, the man didn't exactly seem dangerous, just...in over his head, perhaps.
"Now then, if you are being visited by an entity of indeterminate nature that you think is a demon, that is quite alarming. That you did not immediately go to the Order for its eradication would lead me to believe you are not being harmed by this visitor, at least not that you know of."

His eyes narrowed with the sharpening of his gaze, taking stock of Kyran's appearance again, slowly from head to toe.
"Hmm, I cannot say I'm an expert, but you do seem healthy enough. Describe your problem to me with more detail. I will be able to narrow your search. This library contains vast amounts of knowledge - as your concerns are quite pressing, it would behoove you not to waste days trawling through the sections on the occult."

Craaaaaap.

Kyran felt pinned to the spot by the man's gaze, suddenly preferring his angry look over his ANGRY-angry look. This was the sort of expression that transported him straight back to childhood when he had Done Goofed Up in a Big Way and his father had been enraged enough to order him out of the house to pick a switch as punishment. Granted, his father had never actually used it on him, much less ever raised a hand against him at all. The punishment had been purely psychological and had given him ample time to think about just how badly he had messed up. And it had worked.

That was what this man's expression reminded him of, and it took all of his willpower not to shrink back in shame.

Worse, the man had seen right through him and called out his lie. Oof.

Even worse, he was then examining him! Normally, he would be quite pleased to get the "undressing with the eyes" look from a cute guy, but he had the distinct feeling that wasn't what was happening here. It made him feel naked, but not in a fun way. Did he suspect...?

Kyran was practically squirming from the dressing down, rubbing his arm anxiously and swallowing as his mouth went dry. "I, uh, I understand. Sorry! I...okay, that all came out really badly, huh?"

He took a deep breath and tried again.

"O-oh, okay, so. Uh. Right. So it's like this." He cleared his throat. "Wow, this is awkward. Alright, so, this thing I think is maybe a demon, it hasn't hurt me or anything, right. But I think it's a bit...randy, you know what I mean? Comes at night, maybe tries to do some sleepy shenanigans? Like hypnotism or something? Like it can do dream stuff. And maybe steal energy..." He gave another soft, awkward clearing of his throat, before adding without looking at the man, "...sexually."

His father hadn't given him any details of his encounter with his mother, for obvious reasons—it was private and painful, and Kyran sure as hell didn't want to know about it, either. So he made something up based off of his own capabilities and his own assumptions, and the more he spoke, the more he realized how crazy he sounded, and the more he realized how creepy his own abilities were. How easily they could be used for evil...

Suddenly realizing how what he said might sound, he snapped a wide-eyed look at the man and held up his hands.

"It hasn't done anything! I want to stress that! And I'd like to keep it that way. I just want to know what it is, and what should be done about it. Like maybe how to stop its powers or something, if there's a way?" He frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "I don't want to...hurt it. It doesn't seem mean. The Order would just kill it, and maybe...maybe it's just misunderstood, right? I just want to know what it is and how best to deal with it."

Well, never let it be said that the intimidation factor wasn't effective - at least now they seemed to actually be getting somewhere. The longer the young man spoke, however, the more Padca began to understand why he seemed so reluctant to share the truth - and likely why he was so discomfited atop it all.

Sex was simply a fact of life - a biological imperative, if nothing else. Padca preferred, staunchly, not to think about it outside of its more rigid scientific definitions. The concept of engaging in sexual intercourse himself was...uncomfortable was rather an understatement, honestly.
Thus he shut down any reactions to this man discussing such things outside of a purely utilitarian need-to-know basis, managing to hold off any hideously embarrassing blushing. Truly, if only embarrassment wasn't nearly contagious...

"I believe I understand. I suppose broaching such a...'sensitive' subject would naturally illicit some reluctance. If all you suspect is accurate, then I should think the nearest guess is a -cubi of some kind. A sex demon, so to speak. Most frequently referred to by their 'gendered' names - Incubus, and Succubus - they are largely the same creature. Such beings are rarely constrained by such mundane, mortal concepts as sex and gender, and for demons such as these it is much more convenient to mold themselves into the form which best helps them lure their prey. I...hesitate to say they are not a threat to you, regardless of their behavior thus far."

With his cool, steady voice, he sounded a bit like if someone were reading an encyclopedia entry out loud. Still, he pressed his lips together and allowed his gaze to drop away a moment as he collected his thoughts. To say the kingdom had a 'negative view' of demons truly lacked the fervency of their distaste - after all, the Order existed with their full blessing it seemed. That being said, Padca was a man of knowledge, of truth - he thrived on learning, and his career translating ancient, unknown texts obviously lent him a great deal of information that the majority of people would simply never encounter.
It helped his master had always preached the benefits of an open mind (and rapped Padca's knuckles more than once when he got too stubbornly short-sighted).
Knowledge truly was power, and it truly was dangerous. Saying the wrong things to the wrong people had gotten many a man of more consequence than himself into terrible trouble.

That said...he returned his attention to the hapless man, his mind made up. It was fortuitous that the corners he liked to work were far removed from foot-traffic, and well known to have a 'grumpy librarian' occupying them.
"The demon you are likely encountering is not, comparatively, that dangerous. It, like all beings, can be dangerous - however I do not believe it is in their nature to kill humans. We are their source of food, but unlike where man must slaughter the pig to partake of its flesh, the -cubi style of demon needs only our essence. At times that can be...literal, but often it is only the energy one produces - thus many such creatures will simply put you to sleep and manipulate your dreams. A dead human gives no energy, no essence, and thus it does not benefit them to cause permanent harm. That said, long-term exposure and feeding does have adverse affects, namely in the way of extreme fatigue and lethargy. You can die from this, though so far as I've read it ordinarily only occurs when dealing with particularly inexperienced or starved demons. Unfortunately I do not know of any guaranteed deterrents for this sort of encounter - I would expect beginning in our section on blessings and protection spells to be the most likely to produce results."

A sex demon.

Sex demon.

The words echoed in Kyran's head as the man went off on his very informative monologue, his eyes going wide and eyebrows climbing in budding horror. Of course he knew the demon had attacked his father. Of course he knew what that implied. But he had just assumed it was a generic demon doing generically evil demon things, not that there was an entire named breed of demon devoted to that. An entire named breed of demon that...that attacked and lured prey sexually? An entire breed of demon that viewed people as livestock to feed on? His head reeled, his knees weakened, and he quickly stiffened his legs so he didn't wobble too much.

Was that...was that really what his mother had been?

Was that what he was?

All this time, he had just figured he had a naturally high libido. All this time, he hadn't really given much thought about why he was so often tired and why he felt less tired after a one-night stand. He just figured he got too little sleep and, well, sex was kind of energizing?

...Oh no.

The dream stuff, that was weird, sure, but it was harmless enough. He had always known he could do it, as instinctively as he knew he could move his right hand. He'd never done anything bad with it, and didn't even see how it was particularly useful. He'd only ever used it a few times when he was younger to--oh. Gods. No wonder his father had been so furious. He had tried to use it to sneak out of the house to go play with a friend past bedtime, had tried to lure his father to sleep so he wouldn't catch him. Now the pieces slammed into place; he had assumed his father was angry he was trying to sneak and disobey, but that wasn't the full truth. He was angry he had tried to use the same vile magic that had...

Kyran clapped a hand over his mouth, feeling suddenly ill. Maybe the man would assume he was shocked and surprised that his visitor was a potential predator, but in truth he was trying very hard not to throw up.

"...Oh," he managed to squeak out at last. "Oh, that's...huh..."

After a few deep, slow breaths, he felt safe enough to lower his hand and rested it instead on his chin in an effort to look contemplative rather than horrified. He looked over at the man, hoping the panic he felt wasn't showing as vividly in his eyes as he felt in his very soul. "Is that...the only kind of demon that comes to mind? Can any others do...similar things?" There was a hidden plea in those words.

He didn't want to see the blessings section, but he nodded numbly--and then froze. Wait. Blessings. Protections. He was half. Would those still affect him or would the human counteract it? Or was the demon stronger? Oh gods, suddenly there were so many new things he had to worry about that he never had to worry about! He rubbed his temples, grimacing.

"Hey, so, hypothetically, let's say worst case scenario..." he began slowly, and tucked some hair behind a pointed ear. "Can, you know, an incubus or whatever knock up a human? What happens then? Like assuming that's even possible at all, I mean. Would they be more human or demon or what?" Then he laughed, a panicked edge to the sound. "That'd be weird, right? Like could they ward against themself? Crazy."

Watching the poor recipient of his explanation visibly pale as he spoke was certainly not encouraging, but Padca supposed he couldn't really blame the man. Finding out you were potentially being stalked by a literal sexual predator was an understandable shock. Padca was content to fall silent after his suggestion and give the stranger a moment to collect himself.

He might have been ready to launch into a in-depth lecture on the hypothesized behaviors of more obscure demon subtypes - had the man not frozen so abruptly it was impossible to miss. Padca's brows furrowed yet deeper in concern as he awaited some further hint as to the cause of the apparently spiraling horror. Clearly something had occurred to the man, perhaps several things come to mention it.

Puzzling over what might be affecting the man so, Padca began to answer the newly posed question automatically.
"That is quite possible, if not rare - ordinarily such a child would be called a 'Cambion' and-"
His jaw snapped shut as several small things slammed into the forefront of his awareness all at once. Sharp eyes darted to the hair slowly sliding from behind that pointed ear (elf, he'd thought), to the markings that he had (tattoos, he'd thought), then back up to meet his panicked gaze head-on (embarrassed, he'd thought).
In real time Kyran could watch the white-clad man piece it together in a matter of seconds, a terrible hunch - a terrible secret.

Padca opened his mouth again, paused, yet closed it. He let his eyes flicker coolly around them, nothing else in his ever-stiff bearing and stern face to give away he'd essentially stumbled into a veritable snake-pit of understanding. Finally he again spoke, sounding as unaffected as he ever had.
"-well, the specifics are largely irrelevant. It would necessitate some fine-tuning in whatever spells you might elect to use to boost their effectiveness - I think I have a good idea of where to start. If you might like to follow me."
He nodded his head to one side, but the severity in his gaze firmly conveyed this was a request best obliged.

He then turned on his heel, hands clasped ever at the small of his back, and made his way smoothly through the shelves toward the dimmer, even less-traveled section of the library. The one librarian that offered a small wave in passing received a sharp dip of his chin in response - this was apparently the norm, for the librarian didn't so much as blink at the two as they passed by, already forgotten as they went about their own work.
Tucked away was a nondescript wooden door, before which Padca paused in order to glance back and confirm whether or not his unexpected 'guest' was still following, before silently pulling it open to expose a short, quaint hallway lined with small square windows along one side to let in the light, another simple wooden door at the other end. He swept his free hand over his body in a polite 'after you' gesture.
"We shall find a much more conducive environment for our research in my private study."

Cambion...? There was even a name for it?

The man cut off short, and Kyran stared.  The man stared back. He could practically feel his eyes as they moved over him, only this time it was less of a quick assessment and more...recognition. It was with a fresh, creeping sort of dread that Kyran realized he may have said too much. He bit his lip and darted a look in the direction of the library's entrance, thinking that perhaps this was his cue to leave—he'd already learned what he wanted to learn, after all! But what if he was just imagining things, too? What if he was reading too much into this man's sudden silence? If nothing else, surely bolting would give it all away.

The man spoke again, and Kyran decided he must have been imagining things, for the man sounded the same as he ever did. He just needed to calm down, breathe, and work on saying less!

The man spoke of spells, so yes, good, surely it had been his own paranoia coloring the situation. With a sigh of relief, he followed the man, but cautiously—because he still had absolutely no clue how some anti-demon spell or whatever would affect him. But it was best to play along for now to complete the ruse, right? And so he stuck close behind the man, not thinking too much about it...until he realized how deep into the library they were going, and how much darker it was, and how few people were around...

Kyran slowed a little, falling back a few paces. No, no, it was fine. It made sense that occult things would be in the stereotypical dark and shadowy place, right? But then the man opened a door, and motioned him toward the hallway it opened into—at the end of which was another door.

Private study...

A cold shiver ran down his spine like a cold splash of water, making all the hairs along the back of his neck stand on end. Under any other context, being invited into a handsome man's private study would elicit a different kind of excitement, but as Kyran stared at the closed door at the end of the hall, he couldn't help but think it looked like the perfect murder room. Secluded. Buffered by several doors. Far, far away from people. He hadn't told anyone where he was going, so if he were to vanish...

He looked at the man, then at the door, then back. No. Surely not. Surely a bookish guy like this wouldn't be capable...right?

...He was being ridiculous.

There was no way the man knew. Besides, what kind of axe murderer wore all white?

"Oh. Sure. Yeah, sounds great! One on one study time, how cozy!" With a wink at the man, trying to replace his nerves with his usual confidence, he strode through the door and down the hall. "Wow. It sure is private, huh? And quiet. Is it sound proof, too?"

There was a moment where he worried his likely-demonic guest was going to try and back out - granted it wasn't as though Padca had any intention of forcing him, but this was a delicate situation he'd rather not have to bring attention to if he could help it. The less he had to outright explain the better, and so for a moment he feared this man was questioning his motives and he would be forced to do exactly that.

Luckily, it did not come to that.

Padca wrinkled his nose (a surprisingly cute expression when matched with the pouty frown) at the wink, a reaction he wasn't entirely able to stop himself from making. Honestly...
Following the other in, he closed the door gently behind them, though the frown deepened at the question.
"Soundproof? Why on earth would it be soundproof? I do not engage in anything particularly disruptive to warrant such precautions, and my study is removed enough from the library proper to avoid most stray noise."

Catching up in just a few steps, Padca practically slithered around Kyran before he reached the other end of the hall, taking care not to brush up against him. This time when he opened the door he did not bother to wait and simply stepped through first, striding toward the impressively large desk that dominated the otherwise cozy space. It was absolutely covered in books and paper, a loosely-organized chaos if there ever was one.
"The point is that it is private from unwanted eyes and ears - speaking of your demonic heritage in front of just anyone is not recommended."

Hands on his hips, he looked around the familiar space a moment as he pondered how best to make someone comfortable when he did not often 'entertain'. Well, a place to sit for starters - he strode to the corner and carefully moved a few books from their resting place atop a very cushy armchair, placing them on the tower already on the side table, before hefting it up in a surprising show of strength to carry it back to its new home in front of the desk.
"There, now sit."

Satisfied with his attempts at playing host, Padca swung around his desk and took a seat in his usual chair, shuffling a few things around on his desk until he had a few blank sheets and a new pen and inkwell set up.
"I'm quite curious about the true details of your heritage - it is not exactly often one has the chance to directly converse with a Cambion, or any other demonic hybrid for that matter. I believe I have a few tomes at my home that I recall having pertinent information on Cambion, if I've understood your need to be information about yourself."
He was already scribbling notes to himself as he spoke, somehow managing to keep his white gloves ink-free despite the speed with which he was writing. As an afterthought, he finally flicked those silver-blue eyes back up to Kyran's face.
"Ah, I realize I was remiss in introducing myself earlier - I am Padca Heis, a translator of rare and ancient texts."

HE FREAKIN' KNEW.

Kyran had just closed the door behind him when the man dropped that bomb. He froze, going completely stock still, and if there had been any lingering doubt at all about his true heritage, it was likely dispelled then as his horrified expression confirmed the man's hunch.

"I--wha--no, I--!" he sputtered, taking a backwards step toward the door and feeling for the handle without taking his eyes off the man--but the guy wasn't even paying attention to him. He was too busy bustling around the room. Kyran watched, barely breathing, as he moved books off a large armchair and then hefted that chair over to the desk like it was nothing. If he were in a better headspace he would have appreciated the demonstration a lot more. (Ah, he could probably pick him up and--STOP.) All the same, as he watched the guy clear up a little space in all the chaos, it had the unexpected effect of helping him relax a little.

If he'd meant any harm or other such shady business, he certainly wouldn't be inviting (or, well, it sounded a bit more like a demand) him to sit like a guest.

Right?

He stared at the chair, then at the man, and slowly edged his way inside. Alright. Deep breaths. As the man's pen scribbled away and he spoke about Cambion and demonic hybrids, Kyran sank into the chair but didn't quite look comfortable, despite its cushyness. He sat as far back in the chair as he could with his hands gripping the armrests, still quite prepared to launch himself up and out at the first sign of sketchiness.

"Padca...hi, yeah. Um. I'm Kyran. Kyran Ardiff," he said, and reflexively held his hand out over the table, then thought better of it a second later and withdrew. Would the guy even want to touch a demon? Would anyone? When he'd passed by him in that narrow hallway, Padca had somehow become liquid like a cat and managed not to brush against him at all, so he was guessing the answer was probably no. If he was a...Cambion...

"Nice to meet you! Thanks for not murdering me! Uh, I don't...whoo, this is weird. Okay, can I just say--for what it's worth--that I don't actually feel like a demonic hybrid or whatever?" He ran a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly like a research project himself. The way Padca worded that, that one didn't often get to talk to his kind, was kind of...huh?? It was so strange trying to wrestle with the updated knowledge of his identity versus the way he had always felt and still felt. Despite what he knew, he couldn't view himself any differently than he always had: as a human and an elf, heavy on the human because human society was all he knew. To say this was jarring was an understatement.

"I mean, I don't know what that's supposed to feel like in the first place, but...anyway. I don't actually know anything. That's why I came here. All I know is what my father finally told me--surprise, mom's not an elf after all, watch out for the Order, and...and..."

He trailed off, seemingly distracted as he studied Padca's face. "What was I...? I'm sorry. You just have really pretty eyes."

His gaze flickered down to the offered hand, but before he could begin the process of politely-yet-firmly turning down the gesture, the man - Kyran - withdrew it. Either he was perceptive, or so nervous he was being fidgety - there was really no way of knowing which.

While he listened, eyes still politely locked in laser-focus on Kyran's face, Padca's hand never really stopped scribbling notes in that inscrutable short hand of his. He had long since mastered this particular skill - he needed to be able to keep track of his thoughts and notes while working, and he strove for efficiency in all things but most particularly in his work.

Just as Padca was taking a breath in anticipation of being able to respond, his guest lost the plot rather abruptly - instead of finding it again, he picked up a whole new one.
Entirely unprepared for the earnest compliment, a red flush bloomed rapidly across his nose as he jolted into, somehow, an even stiffer posture.
"W-Well, that's...I mean to say..." He cleared his throat, covering his mouth with a fist as he gathered his wits again. No need to get so flustered! Ah, and after all, if this is a Cambion, then perhaps such a comment is to be expected...?
Back on the solid footing that was academia, the burgeoning blush quickly faded as those 'pretty' eyes squinted slightly in consideration.

"Yes, well, thank you. And it is a pleasure to meet you as well, I suppose, though it certainly wasn't in my plans for the day. You needn't worry so much about your safety - were I truly an intolerant bigot, I would have caused a ruckus or simply turned you over to the Order. Instead I am making myself complicit at the very least, though I fully expect to be breaking whatever ridiculous laws there are around Demons and their kin soon enough."
He snorted harshly and waved a hand in the air with irritation, clearly not much impressed with the largely-inherent intolerance to be found.

"But enough about that - back to your problem, so to speak. I think it ridiculous to expect to feel different - you have always been a Cambion, how you are is how it is to be one. I believe it's more accurate to say you may yet learn what it is to not be a Cambion and compare it to your own experiences, that you may see what behaviors you thought 'normal' are in fact normal for you rather than the non-demonic population as a whole."
Resting his chin in his free hand, he continued to observe Kyran like he was a particularly intriguing puzzle.
"Hmm...well, I'll have to find the books I mean to show you, but that will be for later. You did mention quite a few things during your ruse, so I must know if those descriptions were based on yourself - increased sex drive, hypnotism, dream manipulation, and absorption of energy, if I remember it correctly. How many of these have you experienced? How often? What's the severity? Do you have conscious control over your abilities, such as they are?"

Padca went even more rigid, a bright blush spreading over his cheeks that made him look even cuter, and Kyran sank down a little into the chair in mortification. He wasn't ashamed of his honesty, but he was also acutely aware that maybe he shouldn't flirt while being scrutinized as a bloody sex demon?

But rather than be offended or angry, Padca seemed to take it in stride. He recovered and moved right along, and Kyran stared at him with fresh appreciation.

He really wasn't scared of him or anything?

He fell quiet as Padca spoke, confirming exactly that: he wasn't a bigot.

He was making himself complicit.

Risking himself for him.

It was about the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him, not that he was experienced much when it came to romance. Still, if he wasn't so wound up he could have swooned--mostly from sheer relief. It was a twofold relief stemming from the obvious--he didn't have to worry about being outed--and perhaps the less obvious--that he had been holding all this in to the point of bursting but had no one he could safely talk to about it. With a sigh like he had been holding his breath, Kyran leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. "Thank you."

Visibly relaxed, he leaned forward a little as Padca continued, resting his elbows on the desk with his cheek pillowed on one hand. What he said made sense, and he sort of had always felt like a fish out of water who often struggled with People-ing. He hadn't thought he was that weird, but...right, maybe so. He didn't have many friends, after all, and not for lack of trying. As it just so happened, many of them got a little weirded out when he suggested sex as a bonding activity.

Slowly, as Padca asked about his symptoms, so to speak, Kyran slid his cheek off of his hand and sank lower, until his chin was resting on his arms folded atop the desk.

"All of them." He winced. "That sounds bad, but I haven't done anything bad with them. I mean, not really? When I was a kid I tried—and failed—to put my dad to sleep so I could sneak out, but it's not like I do anything creepy with them! I'd never use it to...to..." He could not say it. "I'm not my mother," he finished firmly.

"I knew the dream stuff was weird, but elves have magic so I didn't really think about it. My partners kind of always passed out after sex, but that's such a man thing, y'know? I didn't really think about it. I was always rarin' to go again and again and...ahem, again, but I figured being young and fit..." He scratched the back of his neck, flushing a little. Not from embarrassment, but from a little...shame.

"I've never tried to do energy stuff on purpose, because why would you? But...I guess...I kinda was anyway?" He snapped a look up at Padca, sudden worry creasing his brow.

"It doesn't hurt them, does it? Like I'm not like shortening their LIFE, right? Because I'm not okay with that. The only thing I wanna suck outta a guy is cu—"

He stopped himself short, mouth still open, and closed it with a soft click of sharp teeth.

"Anyway. High libido. Yes. That too." He cleared his throat. "I dunno about severity. I don't feel like I'm suffering or anything. Like I'd be happy to roll in the hay daily, multiple times, and wouldn't get bored, but--" Wait. Actually...

He sat up straight again (gods, he had always been fidgety even when he wasn't nervous) as something clicked abruptly into place, his words a little muffled as he pressed a hand to his mouth. "I get migraines," he said slowly. "I never really thought about the timing before, but...now that I think of it...it's usually if I'd had a dry spell. Like a week is pushing it. A friend told me sex helps, something about relaxing you or whatever, and it always made me feel better anyway, so I tried it and it did!"

As Kyran slumped further into comfort, Padca unconsciously shifted some of his books and papers out of elbowing-range while listening to him speak, the pen in his other hand never stopping its note taking.
Chin again coming to rest on his knuckles, he nodded here and there to show he was absorbing the information even as his lids slipped a bit lower and his gaze unfocused into the middle-distance with thought. Padca had never particularly thought his own mind to be a strange one, despite most people's (often spiteful) commentary about it - processing information was simply what he did. Taking in what he was being told, analyzing and organizing it, cross-referencing with what knowledge he had at-hand in his own memory, making notes to find the information he knew to be found in various books and scrolls - for him this was his 'normal'.

"The only thing I wanna suck outta a guy is cu—"

Sadly he was brought out of his scholarly flow-state with a lurch, and no amount of trying to keep a scientific distance from the conversation could stop the immediate and aggressive return of his blush. Such crude language! His ever-eager mind quickly flung other tidbits from the conversation back to the forefront - about again and again and again - which was too lurid a concept with the man literally sitting right in front of him. It didn't help that Kyran continued (multiple times a day?? And a dry spell of only a week??) while Padca's flush raced across his cheeks and all the way to the tips of his ears. With a groan he finally just covered his glowing face with a gloved hand, mortified and praying for a cool breeze in the impossibility of a windowless study.

"I-I see, thank you. I did want you to be thorough, in the interest of research, but now I see that perhaps I should be careful what I wish for." Padca took a deep breath, held it a moment, and then released it slowly from his nose as he let his hand drop. He was still blushing madly, and looked properly annoyed about it (read: the frown-pout was back).
"Anyway, to address what you've told me - this all falls well in line with what I might have expected for a Cambion. On the topic of consent-" He had to stop, blinking rapidly as his jaw clenched and he was forced to swallow before being able to continue (how strange, these things - never did he point his considerable mind in their direction).
"As for consent, I am glad to know you are aware of it. As you were raised among mortals you understand and respect this concept. Your mother likely did not even consider it, as to her the interaction was a meal. This does not absolve her, but I believe it is important for you to understand it is not malicious intent - that you do not inherently have some kind of malicious intent coded into your blood. For your other concern, no I do not believe you are harming your partners inherently. It  is not...hmm, well, this is perhaps getting more into unproven theories and concepts, but essentially someone's lifespan is not a candle onto which you have applied more heat, thus burning it away quicker. Living things simply produce energy by their very nature, and it is some combination of this and other factors, such as sexual release and pleasure, that -cubus type demons feed upon. As I mentioned before, your kin's powers can only really cause death through extreme fatigue - eventually the body reaches its limit and shuts down if it is not given opportunities to recover. Similarly to people dying if you attempt to keep them awake indefinitely, or working them so hard for so long they simply collapse where they stand. For the average, healthy mortal, it would take more than a few rounds with a Cambion to be cause for concern. Hmm, on that note though it seems that you have conscious control over hypnosis and dream powers, which is good. That you suffer physical ailments when you have not fed means you do in fact need that energy, so it is not something you can abstain from."

Too much? That was too much? And here Kyran was doing his best to keep things clean and vague! Yet Padca was blushing like he'd given play by play details of his last few romps! The reaction wasn't a surprise to him, but he had never understood it, either. It was just another bodily function, the same as breathing, and was in fact a requirement for life! Most people partook! And yet most people also seemed to want to pretend like it wasn't a thing that happened, even though those same people very much wanted it to happen.

And yet KYRAN was the weird and inappropriate one for just saying and doing what everyone else was coyly thinking!

MAKE IT MAKE SENSE.

Fortunately, Padca didn't seem to get upset about it, nor offended, like so many did. His blush had grown quite spectacularly, though, and Kyran observed its spread with secret glee. Blushy people were adorable, especially when they seemed all prim and proper and uptight like this guy did, and for a moment he couldn't help but imagine if that might be what he looked like in bed in significantly fewer clothes--

Stop.

Focus.

Padca was speaking, after all. Something about consent? Kyran pressed his lips together and nodded along as he spoke, pretending very hard that he had definitely been paying attention and definitely had not just been imagining the man naked. Still, he was genuinely curious as to where he was going with this--and was not disappointed. Padca said the magic words, and he couldn't help but suck in a breath.

You do not inherently have some kind of malicious intent coded into your blood.

Padca had, indeed, read him like a book.

Whatever anxiety had still been lingering within him slowly melted away. He wasn't hurting anyone. He wasn't sucking away anyone's lifespan. He couldn't just accidentally kill someone. He let out a deep breath that rustled some of the papers on the desk.

"Oh thank gods," he said, and met Padca's lovely eyes. "So there's nothing really...wrong with me, is what you're saying? Like I'm not...y'know, bad unless I try to be bad, right? I mean, not gonna lie, it can be inconvenient and stuff. The migraines suck, and by the time those start I'm already feeling antsy in my own skin, you know what I mean? But I'd never hurt anyone, ever. Not on purpose. Sure, a little hair pulling and biting if they're into that, and vice versa, but like you said--consent! Always."

Leaning his elbows on the desk, he flashed Padca his first genuine smile, showing just a little fang. "Thank you, by the way. Truly. For not turning me in or flipping out, and for...I guess, assuming decency? I'm not gonna lie, you had me spooked as heck, but come to think of it maybe you were taking the bigger risk here. Secluded, far away room with a sex demon and all--"

He stopped, eyes going wide. "That sounded way creepier than I meant it to."

Padca was beginning to note that Kyran had a spectacular talent for misspeaking. It was both mortifying and amusing, given the topics at hand, but Padca managed to hide both a small upturn of his lips and further blushing by turning his head and coughing into his fist.

"Yes, well, you're quite welcome I suppose. It is true I took risks, but I am not as defenseless as I might seem. In any case yes, you're correct in your understanding - there is nothing wrong with you. You are simply a Cambion, and whatever anyone else may feel about that, it is simple truth. Much as I am loath to admit it, the world in which we live is not black and white - that we long for things to line up simple and neat is a failing of our own logical minds I suppose. Would that I could buy into the concept that 'all demons are evil' with the accepted reasoning being 'because they are demons' - but frankly it's too easy to disprove."
His face was again in an impressively unimpressed frown, gaze flat. He appreciated knowledge and learning above just about all else, after all. It was exhausting being forced to play part in the farce that so many of his fellows liked to partake, especially in 'social events' where it seemed that was all they wished to talk about - most times it was all he could do to literally bite his tongue and perhaps grunt in response where necessary.

Gathering his notes and carefully aligning them in front of him for want of something to do with his hands, he glanced over the scrawling to double check his work.
"Well, I suppose I do not need to tell you that this is not something you should speak of freely here in the kingdom. I have a number of books I'd like to go through, most not housed here in a public library, to compile more detailed information about your bloodline. In return, I would like for you to allow me to study you - nothing strenuous, but I would hate to pass up the opportunity to learn more of Cambions from a direct source. If this is acceptable to you, then I would offer that we perhaps reconvene in a few days time - we can use this study again then, I should think."

"Oh! Yeah! That sounds great!" There was zero hesitation, not even time for thought, but Kyran had perked up considerably at the offer. 

It was a more than fair trade--and he would be lying if he said this man didn't intrigue him. On the superficial side, he was attractive--there was just something about the pouty faces he made, the trying and failing not to blush furiously, the efforts to hide his expressions and maintain an air of 'all business'. It was...kind of cute, and he kind of wanted to kiss him the same way he really, really wanted to pet that one standoffish alley cat that looked so cute but would definitely claw his face off. Of course, he kind of wanted to kiss a lot of people, so that wasn't saying too much.

On a less superficial level, Padca was a breath of fresh air after sniffing sewage for days. He was so smart! He hadn't judged him! He wasn't afraid! He didn't think there was anything wrong with him! Even as Kyran stressed and poured all his anxiety out onto the table, Padca took it all matter-of-factually and assured him that he was not broken or evil. Of course, he was coming from a place of viewing him as a study subject, but it was still so incredibly sweet, even if it maybe wasn't meant to be.

Kyran had already decided he was his friend, whether he liked it or not.

"You teach me, I teach you, we both learn stuff together—probably especially me, since I know jack all about these things. Sounds fun, actually! I've never been studied before, but I promise to be a good subject!"

Grinning at Padca, he leaned in a little and gave him a wink. "It's a date, then! So, what, two days? Same time, same place? What's your favorite food and flower?"

He was joking. Well. Half joking.

Blissfully unaware of Kyran's inner thoughts, Padca was instead rather amused at his apparent eagerness. Most people were not entirely pleased to be scrutinized, even in the name of learning, but it seemed the proverbial 'carrot on the stick' of learning more about himself was a great enough incentive.
It was actually a little charming how eager he was, a bit like an excited child or somesuch, and Padca's expression smoothed without his knowing into a small smile.

Naturally that didn't last long as Kyran immediately gave him a wink, earning him an unimpressed look that quickly fluttered into confusion.
"What? I...yes, I mean, two days is quite adequate. Just ask for me at the front desk and I will be notified. I...do enjoy stopping for the house noodle dish at the small shop down the road just south of here, if you required a recommendation. And I've not much thought of it, but I suppose the moon lily is nice enough, though I don't see the relevance."

"Moon lilies. House noodle dish. Gotcha!" Kyran said, rising to his feet. "Thank you! I'll see you again soon, then! Two days, don't forget!"

Because Kyran sure wouldn't.

The next two days passed without incident. Kyran wisely kept his discoveries to himself and worked his father's shop as he usually did, handling the front end duties, cleaning up, taking peoples' money and details, while his father took care of the important things. His father was a tailor, quite skilled at his craft, but Kyran had no talent for it. Of course, his father also had the advantage of magic helping him out and Kyran had inherited none of that gift.

It seemed his mother's genes were dominant.

He had let his father know he had an appointment for the day of their meeting and would be busy come noon, and though his father wasn't exactly thrilled to be running the shop alone, he let him take off. Kyran had carefully planned things out so that he could give himself enough time to hit up two very important destinations beforehand: the florist down the road from his shop, and the noodle house near the library.

Moon lilies, as it turned out, were more common than their exotic-sounding name let on. Apparently they were just a kind of wild flower! He secured a small bouquet of them and, on second thought, bought a small vase as well. Padca's study was seriously lacking in greenery and the man didn't really look like he got outdoors much (no one who wore all white was going outside much), so there was nothing better than bringing the outdoors in to freshen and brighten things up!

Next was the noodle place. He had brought his own wooden bowls from home so he could take the food with him, and as he watched the worker scoop noodles into one of them, he was seriously concerned and impressed by the amount of red that went into the dish. Were those...peppers? Hopefully he was getting the right thing and not about to kill Padca, he but asked the worker there several times to confirm THAT was the 'house noodle dish' and they insisted it was.

Alright, then...

He ordered something far more tame for himself. Unfamiliar with the cuisine (Thanati may not be popular in Serendipity, but the place was doing surprisingly well--seemed people were willing to put aside bigotry for good food), he got a simpler dish for himself, some sort of noodle dish with a savory brown sauce, but only after confirming it was not at all spicy. Mission accomplished, the only challenge then was balancing two bowls loaded with food plus a small vase filled with flowers--but he managed. Vase tucked under his arm, bowls balanced in his hands, he headed for the library.

Unsurprisingly, he got a strange look from the lady working the front desk, who also eyed the food warily. After all, that was kind of a big no-no for a place filled with things that food-smeared fingers should not be touching. When he clarified he was there for Padca, her eyebrows only rose higher as her eyes flicked to the flowers tucked under his arm. After a long pause, however, she rose and bade him to wait, adding a sharp, "And don't touch anything!" before she wandered off to fetch Padca.

And so Kyran waited, balancing his gifts awkwardly and shifting his weight from one leg to with a little impatience (he hadn't thought this through very well, and the bowls were actually kind of uncomfortably warm) and a little anxiousness. Hm. Was he coming on too strong? Was this weird? He figured he should bring a gift since he was doing something so nice for him! But he also knew (perhaps belatedly) that sometimes people could take his actions as him being...well...weird. But he was just trying to be nice!

...Okay, and maybe a little flirty.

Two days passed by as though in the blink of an eye, eaten up by his new fixation. He addressed just about everything he'd written in his notes during his impromptu 'interview', and the various books and scrolls he'd wanted to reference had been located, read, and then organized by relevance and usefulness.
Of course, he still had his actual duties to attend to, but as much of his work was done without any real supervision (just intermittent updates on his findings) he was free to prioritize other ventures within reason.

And so the day of their 'appointment' arrived, and Padca's desk had a new stack of paper and tomes just waiting for Kyran's arrival. Not one to waste time with inane things like pacing uselessly, Padca had instead gone to organize one of the occult sections to pass the time - and to see if any other books might grab his attention.
This is where the front desk worker found him, though her frown could possibly rival his own as she looked deeply unimpressed while relaying the message that Padca's 'guest' had arrived. He took a moment to squint at her, wondering if it was worth asking if her demeanor was due to said guest or something else, but he quickly discarded the idea and instead gave her a curt nod before making brisk strides toward the library's foyer. He supposed he would find out soon enough for himself if Kyran was the cause.

He stopped short of his goal upon actually catching sight of Kyran - or rather, his full arms. What on earth - was that FOOD?? With the intensity of his frown growing exponentially, Padca jerked back into motion and closed the gap between them on stiff legs.
"Kyran."
He stalled out, completely at a loss for what to address first as his eyes flicked from one bowl (house special by the shade of red alone), to the other (some other dish), to the vase and its flowers (were those moon lilies??), and then finally back up to Kyran's face where he could only stare incredulously at him. For once his eloquence fled him in the face of his bewilderment.
"Why?"

Ah, there he was!

Kyran at first beamed at Padca's approach, certain he would be pleased by his gift. But then his smile slipped when he caught his expression--frowning and growing frownier still, his movements stiff.

Not quite the reaction he had expected!

The curt use of his name like that made him twitch, reminiscent of all the times he had gotten in trouble for breaking some rule he didn't even realize was a rule. Erk! While his mind raced to figure out what hidden faux pas he'd committed, he followed Padca's gaze as the man eyed his offerings, and then met his incredulous stare head on.

That sinking feeling only grew, and he resisted the urge to wilt.

"Why not?" Kyran asked, blinking in genuine confusion. He glanced down at the flowers and then at the too-red dish--and his face fell with crushing realization.

"Oh...oh no. I got the wrong one, didn't I? I asked the guy several times if this was the right one! The house special, right? Was that it? Aw, maaaan. I thought it was off! There's no way any human's eating that many peppers! I'm so sorry! I'll take it back! What was the one you liked called again?"

Padca blinked rapidly like he'd just received a blow to the head, all his impressive brainpower grinding to a halt in the face of...whatever this was.
Frankly he'd expected this to be some sort of prank (of which he'd been on the receiving end of too many in his youth), or perhaps if he were feeling more generous it would be a complete lack of understanding of the proper library etiquette (food, really!).

What he did NOT expect was for Kyran's face to fall quite like that - it immediately twisted something inside Padca, making him wince. He was fairly confident that he was right to be irritated, and yet now he just felt rather terrible about it??

Helplessly, Padca opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a fish gasping for water - he may as well be a fish out of water for all he understood what to do in this situation. For some reason Kyran was crushed about the noodles and it was as if they were speaking two different languages - although frankly Padca would at least be able to handle that better than whatever bizarre mishap was happening here.

Finally Padca simply held up one hand to cut off any further fretting over the damn noodles, the other coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose tightly. Okay. Just...forget about understanding whatever disconnect this was, and focus on not making a further scene at the forefront of your place of employment.
"Let's...just head to my office first. Then we can address...all of that."
He didn't really know where to even begin and so gave a flappy motion at Kyran's everything, then turned on his heel to lead the way back to hallway that would lead to some privacy if not peace.

He considered as he walked: Last they'd spoken Kyran had asked, inexplicably, after his favored food and flower. He now had both in his possession - Padca was entirely unsure as to WHY he chose to do this, but he could...err...well, perhaps view it as a kind gesture?? It was a bit off the mark but it was not uncommon to bring gifts for your host or as thanks, so perhaps Kyran was attempting similar in gratitude for his help?
He cast around for other probable answers, but frankly could not come up with any. By the time they were both finally hidden behind closed doors, Padca had resigned himself to being confused but grateful for the gesture.

Taking a fortifying breath, Padca turned around to face Kyran and his bizarre collection of gifts (??) again.
"I...apologize. I did not intend to be rude regarding your...gifts. I simply...well to be honest, I was blindsided by the audacity of bringing food into a library. I should not need to tell you that food is forbidden in a place full of delicate books and paper like this."
He realized with some horror that he'd grown sharp again at the end, despite trying to be genuine. With a sigh his shoulders relaxed and he had the good grace to look properly sheepish about his behavior.

"I apologize, again. I believe you are trying to do something kind for me, and I am not being very grateful. Whatever misunderstandings aside, I...I do appreciate the effort you went to, at the very least. You did, in fact, get the correct dish and...and even the correct flowers."
He gave a sort of confused little smile as he looked down at the vase tucked under Kyran's arm.
"I would not have expected to see them in a proper vase of all things, they're practically weeds they grow so wild."

It was, indeed, like they were speaking two different languages, and it wouldn't be the first time Kyran had faced something like this--nor the last! He stared at Padca as Padca gaped wordlessly at him, but finally Padca broke the awkward silence.

...All of that?

All of what?

All of him? Because that looked like he'd motioned to all of him.

Thoroughly baffled and now even more concerned that he'd committed another social sin in an ever-growing mountain of social sins, he followed after the man while running through a list of possible mistakes. Was it the noodles? He hadn't confirmed they were incorrect, but then again he hadn't said much at all! Maybe he'd already eaten? Or something else?

It was the ever-nebulous something else that worried him. He searched for answers as they walked but came up blank, which left him only with a sense of growing anxiety tightening slowly in his belly. Padca had barely batted an eye learning that he was dealing with a literal sex demon, and yet some noodles and flowers rendered him speechless. What was there to address?

Stupidly, he wondered if he was in trouble--until he reminded himself that he was a bloody adult!

Finally back in the study, Kyran braced himself as Padca faced him, holding his breath and preparing for the worst, though he was clueless to what that could be.

...eh?

Audacity...of...bringing food? Wha--oh. Oh. Kyran glanced past Padca to his desk and all the papers and books scattered across it in an incomprehensible mess (he had been so nervous last time that the mess hadn't even registered!) and his eyebrows rose in dawning comprehension. Library. Books. Lots of paper everywhere. Messy noodles. Right. Yes. He supposed he could see how that could be...problematic, and of course now that it was pointed out to him, it seemed so obvious. Wincing, face heating in embarrassment for having to, indeed, be told that was forbidden, when he looked back at Padca he was surprised to find that the man looked as sheepish as he felt.

Padca was apologizing again. Wait a second. Kyran's eyes narrowed a little as though trying to solve a puzzle. Oh goodness, he was so confused, but it seemed Padca got the gist of it now? Maybe? And he'd gotten the food and flowers correct after all? That was a relief, though he wasn't sure how to feel about the flowers getting compared to weeds! They were pretty! Was it weird to get a vase for them?

Completely thrown off balance, he searched for the correct words. "Er, it's okay! Really! I, uh, I didn't know about the food thing, sorry! This is my second time here, I don't really....read. Anyway, I just thought, you know, you've been so nice and you might be hungry and if this takes a while--wait." He paused, raking his eyes over Padca slowly. "If food's not allowed, how do you...? Do...librarians not...eat...?" The man was slender, yes, but a far cry from emaciated. He didn't look like he skipped too many meals.

"Well. You should eat. Here!" he said, and pushed the bowl into Padca's hands without giving him time to protest. With a hand freed up, he started shuffling some of the papers on the desk to free up enough space to set the vase onto it. "They'll need water, but hey, look, they look good in here! Do you like them? OH CRAP."

Kyran smacked his forehead, one thought jumping to the next with a fresh, stupid realization. "I didn't bring utensils!"

Padca's face did...something at Kyran's admission that he didn't read, but he smothered it as quickly as he could. While that genuinely pained him to hear, he knew better than to let his tongue run away with commentary. While he was of firm belief that everyone ought to read, he was also aware enough to know not everyone COULD - and for a variety of reasons, at that. Even if his master (repeatedly) expounded that 'simply not wanting to' was as valid a reason as any other, to Padca's endless bafflement.

Well, he was back to being just as baffled in the here and now as Padca continued to say entirely incomprehensible things. The sentence, the words, made sense but what on EARTH was he talking about??
"Wh...what-"
Then there was a bowl being pushed toward him, which he jerkily grabbed with gloved hands to keep it from ending up on his clothing or the floor should he fail to do so.
"Of-of course I eat, I do not live here-"

Turning around to track Kyran's whirlwind movement, he was unable to do anything to halt the partial destruction of his desk's contents, still befuddled into ineloquence and holding a bowl of noodles awkwardly in front of him. Kyran's shout made him jerk, wide eyes swinging up to watch Kyran smack his own forehead...only to hear him lament the lack of utensils.
What...
How...
....????

Confused to the point of helplessness, Padca suddenly snorted. He immediately pressed his lips as tightly together as he could, but his shoulders began shaking immediately after as he desperately attempted to hold back the somewhat hysterical laughter building up in him. Another snort escaped him, shivering with it until he bent over and a peel of giggles burst out of him. Still holding that damn bowl of noodles, he laughed so hard he cried, tears running down his flushed cheeks as he tried to suck in air enough to speak.
"What...what kind of -heehee!-absurd creature is -pffft- is in my office r-r-right now??"
Another burst of laughter and then he was wheezing and giggling and trying to wipe his cheek against his shoulder somewhat uselessly.
"I don't...I have never been so...what on earth, do I not eat he says?? I-I'm not a plant! Hahaha...wildflowers in-in a vase with no water...and...not a single utensil! I cannot...Ohhh...hehehe...I haven't laughed that hard in ages...ah gods..."

Finally he seemed to regain his senses, breathing slowly as he clutched his stomach with one gloved hand, the other finally depositing the poor noodles on a clear surface before he really did drop the damn thing. Bracing himself against the desk, he could only stare up at Kyran with still-watery eyes and a bewildered sort of smile.
"Can...we please start this interaction over again? Just...start from the beginning and explain to me in detail why you are here with two bowls of noodles, wildflowers in an empty vase, and no utensils? Please I...I promise I am not poking fun I am just desperately confused."

He had broken the man.

At first, Kyran thought his silent shaking might be anger, and his mind raced with a fresh wave of panic. Oh, he had done it now, hadn't he? Food in a forbidden place, weeds for flowers, no utensils! The man must think him some sort of idiotic barbarian! Go him, shaming humans and demons in one fell swoop! He stared at Padca in horror, watching his attempt at impressing and wooing the man go from bad to scorched earth. And the worst part of it all? It didn't seem like it would be improving anytime soon.

Kyran opened his mouth, searching desperately for a solution, or an apology, or something—

And then Padca broke the silence--with a fit of giggling.

Giggling?!

The man actually giggled!

"I...wha...huh...??" It was Kyran's turn to be utterly baffled as the man curled over and laughed helplessly. He watched Padca, blinking rapidly as he tried to make sense of what was happening, mind and body braced for an anger response that never came. The genuine laughter was such a stark, unexpected contrast from the stiff and frowny countenance he'd come to expect, shaving years off his features and turning him into a brand new person--a person with HUMOR buried beneath the furrowed brows. And between the breathless wheezes and giggles came some clarity:

Kyran had managed to fail so spectacularly it was...kind of almost a win? In a way? Maybe??

Confusion bled into giddiness, and Kyran's lips twitched. Absurd creature? HE WASN'T A PLANT? Oh dear gods, is that...is that how he sounded...? He clapped a hand over his mouth as a startled laugh escaped him in a sharp burst, and though he tried hard to fight it, especially since his own stupidity was the punchline, it was hard. Padca''s laughter was contagious (was he CRYING?) and not even he could deny how ridiculous it all sounded when Padca said it like that! Caught somewhere between flustered as all hell, relieved, and greatly amused, he burst into laughter muffled by his hand--though his carried a slightly panicked edge to it because oh dear gods, he didn't embarrass easily, but this was so embarrassing!

He was breathless by the time Padca regained control and asked for a do-over, flushed pink clear to the tips of his pointed ears. Nodding helplessly, he sucked in a shivery breath as he tried to control himself but kept his hand pressed to his mouth as though he didn't trust himself not to lose it again.

"Yes, please, can we just...scratch this whole thing from the record?" he said with a sheepish grin, and quickly pushed away some papers to clear space for his own bowl. He paused for a moment, groping for words, mentally scrambling backwards to the beginning to retrace his steps to where it had gone all wrong. In detail, he said...?

He cleared his throat and took another deep breath, rubbing his hand over his too-warm face. "Okay! So! You've been super nice and didn't turn me in and you're helping me for free basically so I wanted to do something nice! Like, you know when you go to someone's house and you bring over food to share because it's nice and they're feeding you, too? Yeah, that! Except for the flowers, the flowers were supposed to be flirty because you're cute except they're apparently weeds but they're still pretty and this place needs some freshening and—" He was running out of air. He paused to fill his lungs again.

"Yeah. So I wanted to bring you gifts! As thanks! So I got the flowers and figured you'd need something to put them in because I didn't see anything here, so I got a vase, but I didn't wanna carry it with water because it'd spill. Then I got the noodles and I remembered the bowls but for some godsforsaken reason I forgot utensils!" With a pained grimace, he scratched the back of his neck. "I, uh, guess I was excited...?"

Sighing in exasperation, because this was hardly the first time he had utterly botched something, he flopped down into the armchair and slouched in defeat. "So anyway, I kind of ruined everything, buuut..."

He looked up at Padca and offered up a small smile. "...Maybe it was kind of worth it? You've got a nice laugh, you know. It's cute."

It would seem Kyran had a habit of speaking increasingly quickly, as though trying to squeeze everything in his brain out in one breath - at least this time Padca could follow along, sorting through the information even if it was essentially being crunched together and shot at him at high speeds.
By the time his guest was done, Padca was elucidated but unsure how to feel about it - it was both more and less baffling than he expected. He hadn't been incorrect in his assumption that it was meant as a gesture of gratitude, but it was also not entirely correct either (flirty?? He supposed giving flowers was a traditional step in courtship, but was that something you should do for another man you hardly know??)

Looking down at Kyran's slumped form with gentle puzzlement still tugging on his expression, it was once again quickly pulled into a frown at that last comment. It was a knee-jerk reaction, eyes quickly flicking away from Kyran's flushed face and small smile to stare hard at his desk instead. This did not help his uncertainty on how to feel - frankly he wasn't sure that even someone better versed in inter-personal interactions would know what to do with all this. Part of him immediately prickled, unsure if he was being made fun of, if this was something he was meant to just 'brush off' and laugh about (not that he had ever understood such a thing). Who was cute?? What was so nice about snorting and nearly choking on air, turning red and crying?? At the reminder, he dabbed at the damp, red edges of his eyes with a gloved hand - for once they were serving a purpose aside from shielding him from contact with others.

He wanted to be annoyed, to lash out, because it felt safest - he knew that song and dance well, knew how to keep people at a distance. Unfortunately he couldn't quite shake the feeling that Kyran had been, at all points, wholly genuine in his intentions. It also didn't help that when he became dejected he looked troublingly similar to a kicked puppy or the like - Padca found he really did not like being the one to cause such a reaction.
It was difficult being soft rather than sharp, trying to meet Kyran half way, the words awkward as he tried to pick the right ones.

"You...did not ruin anything. Your reasoning was...sound, I suppose, despite the...hiccups in execution. Utensils can be found, water can be added to the vase - the gesture was kind, so thank you. And...I..."
He let out a heavy sigh through his nose, as his mouth was currently pressed tightly together. He honestly looked a bit like he'd sucked on a lemon, but he was also blushing slowly over his nose. Despite his chilly demeanor he had manners drilled into him and he was trying to be kind despite feeling terribly wrong-footed.
"...thank you for...the compliment."

It wasn't ruined? This could be fixed? 

The relief was crushing after all that silence. Kyran let out a soft sigh and visibly relaxed into the chair. Okay, good, this was salvageable and...and he supposed he had also learned a few lessons, chief among them that food in libraries was apparently not a thing. No wonder the lady at the desk had been giving him the stink-eye!

Meanwhile, Padca had shifted through a very subtle kaleidoscope of expression—from puzzlement, to frowny surprise, to now looking like he's tasted something very bitter even though he was blushing? He was a little difficult to read, which was not helped by the redness in his eyes even though that had been from mirth.

Kyran waved a hand. "You don't have to thank me—it's genuine! Uhh, sooo..."

With a sheepish smile, he jerked his chin toward the gifts on the table. "Awkward mishaps aside...do you like them? Are they okay? It's okay to say no—oh, wait. We were supposed to be starting over, right?"

Straightening up in the chair, he cleared his throat and held his hand out to a Padca. "Hi! I'm Kyran. And I come bearing gifts! A token of my gratitude for, uh...teaching me demon stuff and whatnot?"

Padca blinked down at Kyran, a little bemused at being taken so literally - well, perhaps that was best anyway given their first interaction not being much better honestly. It was even a little charming, perhaps?
...it really did not benefit him to find this half-demon charming.

Besides, he now had to (quickly) decide what to do about the extended hand. Ordinarily he staunchly avoided this - and was not afraid to tell others no. Despite this, he worried that refusing Kyran's handshake after such a rocky start would once again cause him to deflate and resemble that pitiful puppy.
Ah, but they were meant to be 'starting over', right? And perhaps, in the interest of trying to avoid MORE misunderstandings, he ought to just be upfront...
Ahh, books were so much easier...

Clearing his throat, Padca carefully folded his hands back behind him and gave Kyran a small bow.
"Well met Kyran, I am Padca. Thank you very much for the gifts - they are my favorites. I apologize for any offense given, but I prefer to avoid handshakes."
Speaking of the gifts, he eyed them critically for a moment before turning on his heel and striding right out of the study. He was not gone long before returning, leaving the door carefully ajar.

"I have called for someone to bring water and utensils - it is a bit of an odd request so it may take a moment to arrive."
Worries about the temperature and texture of their food would have to be settled at that time, though Padca was never one to waste food if he could help it. In the meantime, he took the chance to begin carefully clearing his desk of books and papers, slowly unearthing the wooden surface. He would not abide any chance of the precious tomes becoming dirtied.

He was just finishing up when one of the young library helpers nervously poked their head in, gaze immediately flicking to Kyran before they spoke.
"U-Um, sir...? I have the items you requested...?"
Padca straightened and turned to address them, back to his normal self - that is to say, stiff-backed and rather frowny.
"Yes, thank you. Please bring them and place them on the desk here."
The young helper jerkily nodded before scurrying in, depositing their task, and then all but fleeing the room again with the quiet click of the door. Padca either didn't notice their behavior, or was used to it, for he immediately set to organizing their impromptu lunch. The forks (as he wasn't about to attempt sending someone out to hunt down chopsticks specifically) went onto cloth napkins next to the bowls, then the two small glasses he'd asked for, into which he poured some of the water from the little metal pitcher of water - the rest was carefully put into the vase for the flowers. Looking over his work, he nodded with satisfaction.
"That will serve. I suppose it's lunch time?"

Ohhhhh. Kyran blinked and tilted his head as Padca folded his hands behind his back and gave a greeting of his own--and explained he avoided handshakes. But he had bowed, too, and that made something click in Kyran's brain. Perking up a smile, he returned the bow as best as he could while seated.

"No apologies needed!" he said brightly. "I was—" Oop, and he was off, striding out the door. Kyran blinked rapidly, wondering what the heck had just happened, but Padca returned just as quickly as he had left with an explanation that made sense. Utensils! Crisis averted, thank the gods! 

He watched as Padca worked on tidying the desk, his own hands twitching as he wanted to help but also not wanting to get in the way. Organization was one of his many little passions, and he could already see a dozen different, aesthetically pleasing ways that all those books and papers could be more efficiently arranged. Once or twice he opened his mouth and lifted a finger, wanting to make a suggestion, but he closed his mouth and bit his lip instead, because even in clearing the desk it somehow still looked absolutely chaotic. But at least at the end of it all he could actually see the wood beneath! Gods, how could he live like that?

Thankfully, his thoughts were interrupted by the helper came in with their delivery, looking rather skittish and eager to get away again. Really? Kyran looked over at Padca, eyebrow arched. Was that kid scared of him? Well, granted, he was a little intimidating at first, he'd admit, but that was when he'd been worried about being outed. As he watched the man put water into the flower vase and set up their lunch with such care, he couldn't imagine anyone being afraid of him after five minutes in his presence.

Unless...no one really talked to him much in the first place?

Padca announced their lunch was ready, and Kyran motioned Padca to sit and join him. "I hope you're hungry. I didn't even think about whether you'd eaten or not," he said, picking up his fork. "Oh, hey! Question!"

He was peering curiously at Padca, then at the noddles, and back, as though working something out. "Are you Thanati? Is that why you like noodles and bow and stuff?" He hadn't seen many Thanati, but all the folk he had seen were blond and had darker skin, so...