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Mm.

[His answer is somewhat absent, focused on the stirring, but after a moment he starts and glances over at her, looking as if she'd just woken him up. He blinks at her a few times, like he's trying to figure out a puzzle.]

Oh- hey. ...What?

[He missed that, hang on.]

[ She giggles at his reaction, amused. Even if he's gotten up early, maybe he's taken his dreams with him to the day!

She leans forward on the counter, extending a hand towards the bowl in which he's stirring berries. ] I said... it smells good. [ Using her pinky finger, she samples a bit of the paste, licking her lips afterward. ] And it also tastes good, Head Chef Lucis Caelum.

[He glances down at the bowl, brows furrowing a moment. The original recipe did call for orange sauce, but maybe he'd been a little too autopilot this morning. Ah well, they don't have real oranges anyway, and strawberries are better. He gives her a sidelong smirk, playfully tilting the bowl away.]

Meanwhile, there's a food bandit in my kitchen. This is for paying customers only, you know.

[ She pouts for a moment, playfully and not actually offended, before one corner of her lips curves upward. Pyra slinks around the counter into the kitchen. ]

Ooh, can't you just say I'm your official taste-tester instead?

I guess I could, so long as it doesn't ruin your appetite. This is just the filling.

[Thankfully the main course is almost done, judging by the smell and his phone's timer. Just enough time to get settled.]

[ Don't mind if she goes for another small taste! Yum~! ]

Even more delicious the second time.

[ She hms thoughtfully, looking at him. ] This is filling for... a pastry?

Close, not quite. It's called a galette. Ignis made them at camp sometimes, it's like a fruit cream pie.

[Because of course, if given the option, he would make dessert for breakfast. (It's fruit, though, so it's totally healthy! So it's fine.)]

[ As if she would tell him not to have dessert for breakfast. ]

Oh, is it his recipe? They must be extra-delicious, then.

[ While she has heard of it, she's unfamiliar with making the dish herself. ]

I don't know if this is one of his or one we found- he's got way too many. You can ask him, though, he'd know. Though I'm kind of just winging it here.

[His timer buzzes, so he sets aside his bowl and crouches in front of the oven, mitts on to fetch the galette from the heat. At the sight of it, though, he pauses. That's... not a galette. It's kind of similar, a fluffy pie shape with curling edges and a bubble in the center, sort of a hollow egg pancake, but- hang on, galettes should be baked with the filling in right? Like a pie?

He stares blankly at the pancake-thing in front of him, making no move to pull it out. He doesn't... recognize this recipe at all. What the hell did he make?]

[ She too is equally surprised, and after looking at the pastry, she glances at Noctis, noting his confusion. After a moment's pause, she moves forward.

Since she's immune to being burned, she'll go right ahead and pull out the dish with her bare hands, setting atop a towel on the counter. ]

Oh... It's like a popover. [ Perhaps. Perhaps a galette is different in his world? ] Only much, much larger.

[If he were in a less shellshocked mental state he'd have lunged in to stop her from grabbing it; instead he gapes for a moment, wide-eyed, before it clicks that ah, right. Fire. Okay, that tracks. He stands up and shuts the oven, squinting down at the finished product. Or- wait, not finished. It doesn't look right. He takes the bowl and pours the fruity mixture into the center, filling the "pie" and watching the steam rise.

Now it looks right, but he still doesn't...]

No, um. [Don't panic, don't panic. He takes an unsteady step backward.] It's not- that isn't galette. I don't know what this is.

[It happened again, didn't it? So much for his good morning calm.]

[ She watches as he finishes making whatever dish it is that's in his mind, her own smile beginning to fade as she soon realizes how his own expression changes. His entire posture is tense as a frozen pond in early spring. One extra weight would shatter the ice completely. ] Noct...?

[ He takes a step back, and she, towards him. Her hand finds his, warmed from her touching the dish, but not scalding. She stands between him and the dessert, looking up at him. ] Noct.

I'm here. [ She's not sure what's going on, but it's clear that it's disturbing him. ]

...Sorry, [he says it immediately and automatically, closing his eyes to block the food from his sight for a few seconds, letting himself breathe again. It's fine. It's fine, it's not the first time. He just has to get used to this, or get a better grasp of when it might happen, or... something. Right.

He gives her hand a tense squeeze, exhales, and tries again.]

Sorry. I'm okay, just- caught me by surprise. Can we start over?

No, no, don’t apologize. [ She shakes, giving his hand one more squeeze. ]

And, erm, we can... [ Concern appears upon her expression with a renewed crease of her brow. ] But are you all right?

[ What happened? ]

[What's a good way to answer "yes I'm physically fine" and "no I'm terrified of losing my mind" at the same time? ...He could just say that, but.]

I'll be fine. Usually goes away after a few minutes. [He exhales faintly, trying to push back against the sudden stress he's feeling. This isn't new, he's just not a fan of worrying her. But he can't just say not to, either.] ...Remember how I thought maybe the Crystal gave me memories, or visions, or something like that? Messing with my head? [He offers up a vague gesture, looking uncomfortable at just admitting it.] Well.

You... [ For a moment there, he had seemed absolutely terrified— and why wouldn’t he be? Especially if the memory had been intrusive.

She peers at him carefully, her voice lowering.. ]

...had a memory of someone’s baking...

[ ”Messing with my head.” ]

And you didn’t even realize it. [ She had walked in, he had said he was making a different pastry. He had been oblivious to his actions.

That’s how bad it is. ]

[Gods. Hearing it spoken out loud makes it that much more worrisome, but it's not as if she's wrong.]

Y... yeah. Looks like.

[His gaze drifts back to the pan on the stovetop, brows furrowing a moment before focusing back on her.]

At least I didn't burn down the kitchen.

[That's good, right? That he's not so out of it that he causes damage?]

[ A silver lining at best, and both breakfast and the dish are far from her mind in light of this. ]

You--... didn't feel compelled to make that pastry, did you?

[ Another good question, because what if there is a memory of someone, at some point in time, who burned down the kitchen? She hadn't suspected he had been in a trance when he was making the filling, but... ]

[Oh god, that's horrifying to imagine. He doesn't think it's that bad, at least.]

No, not compelled. At least, it didn't feel that way. It was more like...

[He frowns, trying to remember exactly how it had started. He'd thought about what to make, he'd decided on something unusual, he'd started to go through the motions of cooking it, based on what he remembered from the recipe... ah.]

Muscle memory, maybe? Like my brain just went on autopilot, I wasn't really thinking about how the recipe I wanted wasn't matching the one I made.

[ That he hadn't been compelled offers her some relief, and her shoulders loosen down from her initial worry. However, she can't help but feel stunned at this new explanation. ]

...As if you have the experience and knowledge of all who have come before.

[ Troubling, yes, but also... quite awesome. All of that information, just at the periphery of his waking memory. She wonders, is it even limited to the knowledge of people? What of animals? Or what of the planet itself? There are eons of information within the earth. He could, quite literally, know everything.

......

But her expression of awe suddenly fades. ]

[ Abruptly: ]

Do you feel like you are... yourself?

[He pauses before he responds to that, not because her fears are correct but because now he's concerned about it. He was already worried about being overwhelmed by random whatever-this-is, especially if it comes at a really inopportune moment- a fight perhaps, or when he's around someone who doesn't know and he's forced to explain himself- but... what if he ends up really overwhelmed? What if he ends up drowning in the memories of other people and forgets himself?

It makes him wonder what the point of these memories are. It was from the Crystal... what purpose was it meant to serve? Does he need them to bring back the dawn, or something?

He grimaces and shakes his head, lifting a hand to rub at his temple. As if his head didn't hurt already.]

No... no, I'm me. It's not like that.

[He really hopes it isn't like that.]

[ He still appears uncertain, though... And that's fine. If uncertainty is all they have, then they merely need to tackle it day by day.

At present, she can see that her inquiries are distressing him, so she eases her tone and reins in her expression-- she's still obviously worried, but not... injured because of it.

Pyra steps forward, closer to him, and reaches up to place her hands on either sides of his cheeks. She's done this before. She'll do this again, if necessary, as many times as it takes. ] That's right. [ She repeats, ] You're you.

[ Still him. Forever him, she hopes.

A pause. ] I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you with that question.

[He blinks and shifts his focus to her, tension lingering, but eased somewhat by her quiet reassurance. His hands lift to touch lightly at her wrists- not to hold her there or pull her back, just seeking one more point of contact.]

It's okay... valid question, right? [If their roles were reversed he'd kind of want to know if he was still talking to her, too.] I'm more confused than scared, I... think. Bahamut, or the Crystal, whatever- it'd want me intact, so...

[Intact doesn't mean unaltered, and it's getting increasingly hard to hope for the best here, but there is some comfort to be found in how easy it is to pull him back from that state. Just her voice, and it'd been like normal. He hadn't even noticed until one memory had bumped up against another and the two didn't match. That's. Good? Yeah.]

[ "It'd want me intact"-- he has so little autonomy even within the frame of his beliefs that it's painful.

Is there something else she can do to reassure him? This new found anxiety she's somehow brought about with but a thoughtless, albeit valid, question. Pyra's mind searches for a memory, a sign, or a hint that she may use, and--

"When I- you saw it. You saw me. Did it look like I hated him, when he died?"

A memory of her own comes to mind, one that calls back to a vision of his future. ] If it's any consolation... I just remembered-- [ In a decade's worth of time, he'll return to a world of night. Had he changed in that time, after stepping out of the Crystal? Perhaps. He was more somber in that vision, of course, which while can be attributed to a flex by the Crystal's influence, it's just as likely due to the circumstances of being so close to the Prophecy's end... For he had been a little more reserved. Calm. It's not as if he hadn't been inhuman, and he looked upon his ancestor-uncle's death with sorrow and calm, not hate. That could only be Noctis. ] In your future, you're still you, too.

So, ah...

[ She pats his cheeks again. ] Whatever this crystal's effects are on you with these memories... it's not overwriting who you are. At least, I do not think so.

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