☣ TRUTHFULLY, the girl only knows as much modern knowledge as any other would; such is the way of the grail. Yet even so, upon seeing the brunet’s face light up ever so slightly at her words, the Hassan of Serenity couldn’t bring herself to further explain and debunk her seemingly wide array of knowledge.
So in efforts to hide this, the assassin now looks away for a brief moment as she walks alongside the other, her mauve hues only looking back over to him as he speaks once more. ‘Keyblade’? While she knows not of what he means, she presumes his mention of ‘light’ to mean that he is someone of some sort of faith… Though, looking at his attire once more, Serenity can’t help but wonder if that’s really true.
❝ KEYBLADE? I’m… Afraid I have never heard of such a term before, ❞ she admits, bringing her thoughts to light. Hopefully it’s not something so readily known by any and all, otherwise she would be exposed for the fool she thinks she is.
❝ But… I am as well. Perhaps you wouldn’t think so, looking at how I am now, but… Looks can be deceiving, can’t they? ❞ and with that she offers a small, somewhat melancholy smile at the other before the assassin’s attention looks forward once more. If he is not a man of faith, then surely he must be a warrior of some kind; that much is true from his muscular body and the way he had spoken moments before.
Perhaps a bit taken aback by her voided knowledge in regards to the mighty and mystic keyblade. On his time here he had been able to conclude that many hailed from many different places, worlds, and universes as a whole, so of course his shock was but a minimal one that could have perhaps been missed. Not just as so but even from where he rooted from not many were familiar with the might of a keyblade. Only a chosen few happened to be, or those who were burdened enough to seek of said knowledge in regards to it. “It doesn’t surprise me,” was his light hearted response, a smile veiled by the most sensitive nature of serenity gracing the fine complexion of the feckless youth. His paces a tempo and synced with her own, rush lacked and absent upon their wander. “Even where I’m from not many know of the keyblade. Only a few out there really know about it.” Terra bobbed his head at her with fleeting laughter. Ironic that as connected as things could perhaps be --- at a core to core basis it never truly seemed to be the case. How deceptive things could be upon a mere glance scan or exterior surface.
Terra’s paces only differed from Assassin’s when he chose to pace the tiniest of bits ahead to only commence walking backwards, mindful of the route that was now faced with his back whilst his attention was upon the words that were spared to him. “I don’t judge by appearance, so I didn’t do that with you,” as often proven countless of times in the before, his trust being placed in the wrong crowd, his judgment clouded --- Terra was not made to pass judgment upon others even if perhaps he should cast caution to the winds and try to work on that fault which was still ever present. “Skilled at combat huh?” His nodding as if caught in some sorts of contemplation. Not fond of general violence though he was a young man to be appreciative of a good well hearted spar or training session when present. Being a man who always attempted to perfect his combat skills if only to keep the champions’ of his heart out of harm’s way.
“Haha, maybe one day you can teach me a thing or two.” He could not detain himself but to beam in the slightest. Finding that company in general soothes his woes, having been completely consumed and isolated into pieces within the darkness. Her company brought him solace if all in gratitude to those long years he was deprived from any sorts of a kind. However, attention strayed for a moment, paces halting at the sights of, what he assumed to be, some sorts of mall. Thumb rose to point in mentioned direction of interest, smiling at her. “I have to stock up on a few things,” such as actually growing accustomed to having his heart, mind, and body listening to him for once. “Want to tag along with me a bit more?” He double checked in case she were preoccupied with her own businesses in this city. “I would like to get you something as well.” Without shame and with bluntness he fessed. As a small thank you gift.
Perhaps it would be unorthodox to many for not much had been done. But, for a young man who’s been isolated, trapped, taken over, and lost for bits over ten years --- the warmth of casual conversation and company meant and means everything.