The Light Fades As The Sun Sets [Arcadia, Cyrus]

She didn't really want anything else more than that really, that's all it boiled down to. It was a matter of the dichotomy though, if she was charitable and fully accepting of just that then how did she challenge him? How did he overcome, if he wasn't given the opportunity to succumb. What made her smile the most was the way he asked her to give him the answer. That was far to easy a challenge for this kind of aid.

"The sweetest gifts are the one which has thought put into it, if I told you what I want for this then I would be feeding you the answer."

Arcadia leaned back, hands firmly on the head of the chair so her arms nebulously disappeared to the peripherals of his vision.

"When you can figure out what will satisfy me; a compromise, an agreement, an action, a display. It can be anything, I'll indulge you in some of my own miracles."

Making it clear it was meant to be a challenge, a labour to overcome really. Arcadia remained like that while giving the man that represented the good to her own evil a chance to make an attempt. If he wanted, she clearly intended for him to take some time to think about it if he needed it. Patience was a virtue after all, unless he had that same decisiveness as she did.

"It is a rather grave sin, you know, to toy with a god in such a manner. But very well. I will consider what I may offer you."

There was clear reluctance in Cyrus' voice as he spoke to Arcadia, but he was not one to lie about something such as this. He had no particular thought of what he might offer her, only that he would find something.

"Then again, I suppose I ought to ask if even this physical closeness that I afford you is not already a suitable gift. It is so very consistent when we meet, and certainly you know that I do not allow this sort of thing to others. You, and you alone, have such freedom to drape yourself upon me as you do."

He did not particularly mind it, of course. Oh, he found no joy in her presence by any means, and he would have been more than a touch displeased were he to be seen with her in this way. But Cyrus was willing to let her do as she wished, simply because of who she was.

"It's only a sin when mortals do it, do I detect you dislike challenge in your life? The very essence of growth?"

She said it as more of a tease than anything really serious to consider though his attempt to play onto the way in which she made herself at home around him, it did not backfire yet it did not succeed. The way that she pushed away and shift her spot to sit on the desk rather than remain told him as much.

"Oh? I thought I was the one being considerate by only draping myself over you like that as Merek. Though I suppose I do prefer being in this state around you, I think my feminine aspect plays off your masculinity quite well."

Arcadia was content on the desk now and let him think about their meetings only being conducted as male and female, though Ninsianna could confirm the nature of her Faustin aspect existed given she preferred to be a male in almost all other circumstances than one's with Cyrus.

"If anything, I think my current form is a gift to you. You're the only one that's seen me like this since you brought me here from America. Everyone else only sees me in another light."

"If I disliked a challenge, I would never have traveled down the path I now walk. And, for that matter, I would never have brought you here from America."

Cyrus watched her take her original position on his desk once more, and the memory of what he had done prior upon it nearly gave him the briefest moment of pause. Thankfully he was more composed than that, and his gaze and his voice were both unwavering.

"Ah, I am the one being given a blessing, then? Very well, then I suppose I ought think of another offering for your sake."

He spoke of it so casually, so calmly, that it seemed as if he were wholly unperturbed at the thought. In truth, he knew that nothing he could give her would please her without also compromising his morals in some manner. That was simply what she was, everything he was not. A necessity, whether or not he liked it.

"Then shall I simply take on my own feminine aspect? Entreat you with the pure heart of a maiden, or drape myself upon you in turn? That does seem a rather favorable offering for one such as yourself."

Of course, his female self was no different from the male, but it was rather uncommon that he would allow it to be seen in an interpersonal context such as this. After all, Cyrus of the Blissful Flame was that which bared her heart to all, which loved to the utmost. it would be rather easy to misconstrue her nature, and indeed, it had already been seen in such a manner once before. Ah...now there was a thought.

She didn't miss the dent, in fact she had to take care not to sit in it and for another drawn out moment she reached down and ran her finger over it curiously. This empty, symmetrical office and only with desk and yet, imperfect. She was sure he'd tell her if he wanted though, no need to make their little game easier for him.

"To take a feminine aspect, I cannot say I've seen you in such a state. The idea is quite endearing, there is something charming about your masculine aspect that draws me to it but my curiousity is piqued."

The draping was the last thing she considered, the facet of Cyrus she had yet to encounter and engage with was infinitely more interesting to her. Though she made no indication as to whether the offer was satisfactory, Arcadia said she'd tell him when he had convinced her. She wanted action and decision, not negotiation over sitting here with her idly fingering the strange dent next to her thigh.

"Oh, piqued, hm? Then I ought to show you, I suppose."

Focusing inward upon his aspects, Cyrus touched at the divine flame within his soul, pulling out the Blissful Flame. In the blink of an eye, Kouroush Atar Vazishta was no more. In his place now sat Kouroush Atar Urvazishta, her eyes kind as she looked upon even her greatest opposite.

"Does this form sufficiently please you, Arcadia dear? Or does the maw of Angra Mainyu require further offering for its pleasure? I would be quite disappointed were this not to your liking."

She was a thoroughly different being in this aspect. It was not some simple transformation of her physical form like others might have been capable of. The whole of Cyrus' existence had been changed.

Her expression remained the same confident smile it always was, like she could never doubt herself or be unsure. Sure enough he did actually appease her and not waste time trying to pander or negotiate a certanity and that was the most attractive part of this whole arrangement. It was perhaps a good reason she sat in her original Merek form, for she feared a little that if she was in the aspect of the Father's avatar right now then she would not be able to help herself. That would be incredibly tragic were she to lose to him like that.

"Mmm. You do look like quite the sweet apple."

Arcadia's hand reached out and touched Cyrus' forehead, the finger tracing down the side of her face to become a caress and finally a hold on her chin. The red gems called the demon's eyes took it all in with an unsatisfiable look. She did find something more she wanted but this would suffice for now, she'd see every little nook and cranny of Cyrus' being and aspects until all the shadows of them were erased.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

She might be Cyrus but Arcadia knew how it worked, the differences between Mother, Father and even Child were all different in their own little way and she expected the flames to be no different. The Ahriman incarnate made sure that she destroyed that person space between them again and return onto the well known yet unfamiliar lap.

"Lay yourself bare. A masterpiece can't be made by an artist that doesn't know the components."

That was the closest indication she gave to her antithesis that suggested she had succeeded but it was a certainty and Cyrus of the Blissful Flame couldn't disappoint her.

"Do I now? My, Arcadia, such kind words."

Looking back into Arcadia's eyes without so much as a hint of judgement, Cyrus simply allowed the demon to move in closer, seemingly unconcerned with anything that she might actually do. After all, while Cyrus of the Swift Flame may have seen Arcadia as nothing more than a necessary evil, Cyrus of the Blissful Flame looked upon her as another of her beloved members of the Vandenreich.

"Oh, I do not think there is terribly much about me that you do not already know, Arcadia dear. I am that which loves all things, and you are certainly no exception. But my ideals are unchanged, my dreams for a future free of oppression. Does not everyone deserve such a thing? Even yourself."

Cyrus moved her own hand up to Arcadia's face now, a gentle caress as she continued to look fondly upon the Danava in her lap. Unlike the domineering hand Arcadia had laid upon her, there was nothing authoritative about Cyrus' gesture. She simply wished to reach out to her.

"I find your fascination with me quite interesting. Flattering, even."

She was tentative about this, unlike Cyrus of the Swift Flame where she had a good and well idea of his general character. It was a new and untamed land with this Cyrus, so she was making absolute certain to assess her and become accustomed to her.

"Of course, and I mean that beyond your pretty exterior."

The purity of this Cyrus definitely shown through to her. If she were to create a twisted analogy for the situation she might've called Cyrus of the Swift Flame the roots of the tree that bore this apple and she was ready to commit and original sin.

"Hmm, I acknowledge your point but I am inclined to disagree my Ahura Mazda, though you deliver your ideal so much better than your counterpart, you truly do represent the pure nature of it."

She reached up and wrapped her fingers between Cyrus' own and held onto it with a smile.

"Your words have no authority behind them, and without that who will choose the greater good of freedom over enslaving their peers, the pleasure of hurting them? Children are so disobedient when their mother won't discipline them. Do you love the killer that kills? The rapist that rapes? There's no room for these people in your beautiful dream, Cyrus."

Arcadia whispered softly into her ear, the hand that wasn't locked in holding her hand was instead running through her hair, massaging her skull. Nice little actions that were comfortable but distracting at the same time.

"I love them all, Arcadia. But those who seek to create oppression, to rob others of their happiness, have chosen of their own volition to walk such a path. THough it brings me no joy, I must see them removed for the good of all others."

Leaning into Arcadia with no concern for what it might entail, Cyrus moved her own arm to simply hold her polar opposite warmly. It was not the embrace of a lover, certainly, but rather that of a reassuring mother, one who wished only the best for her children.

"It is my place as a divine to make these judgements, even when it makes me fundamentally displeased. But I of course ask all I love not to harm me so, for to discipline any of my beloved children is a tragedy unlike any other."