"You may."

It was in his best interests to be nice, and really, Clive didn't have any reason to look down on this journalist. Sure, she was probably just looking for a story to make a bit of gil for herself and renown in her profession, but was there really anything wrong with that? So long as what she printed was truthful, he had no reason to judge her. Even if he really didn't want to talk about this... He had nothing left to lose, and everything to gain. The people of Torensten already hated him. It was a position he had grown all too familiar with. If this went wrong, at least he could say that he tried.

Us, she said. Us, referring to people from... Other worlds, wasn't she? Interesting, so she wasn't a native to this world either. Perhaps there was truth to her words. Perhaps not. He wouldn't know until he tried, he supposed. And she did seem to have a clear goal in mind. His presence here had made things harder for her, and other offworlders, seemed to be the implication. And her goal was to find a means to amend that.

"I would be happy to oblige you for an interview, Miss Vayne" Clive responded in kind. While she had asked, and been granted, the permission to call him Clive. She had not asked that she be called by an informal name herself. It was better he stick to formalities until told otherwise. Politics 101, if his uncle was to be believed.

He certainly hoped his uncle was right.

She also wanted to cut straight to the point: The why. He could appreciate that, and he would have recommended that exact thing if she hadn't. People wouldn't care about an article on him if she started with his background, or what his favorite color was. If anyone read at all, it would be to find out the truth of why this crazy offworlder had attacked their Mothercrystal. Even if just to justify their hatred. That was the way his world had worked... And while there were differences here, he doubted that part had changed.

"Why don't we find a place to sit down and we can get started?" Clive offered then, motioning towards the common area. This venue choice wasn't without strategic reason, either. If they used the chambers he had been sleeping, he would suffocate. And Torgal would probably get mad, too. The fireplace in the commons would drown out the smell of her perfume, and give him some room to think.

Clive was getting tired of telling this story. Trying to tell people that this had been a misunderstanding. A grievous one on his part, but something he hadn't been able to control, exactly. Some people understood, but others? That mothercrystal was sacred to them. They couldn't overlook it so easily, regardless of the reason. And for someone who had lived in Valisthea? He understood that all too well, far more than he would ever have liked to. He didn't want to admit that, because it would acknowledge that this way of life in Valisthea was... Normal. That it should be considered anything more than the abomination that it was. But for its people... That's what it was. It was a norm that Clive had disrupted, and threatened by nature of his very being.

He sure as hell didn't want to have someone seek him out just to talk about it. But Clive's woes had only continued to grow, and he was almost starting to regret that he had survived. This was further shown in the form of some "journalist" getting to his room, or seemed to be one by the name "Torensten Times". How had she gotten past Tomoe without him first being told about it? Not that Tomoe likely cared much for his privacy considering he had earned her ire after that crystal stunt. But he could hear the clatter of heels and smell something ungodly foul long before she reached the door. Clive had been reading through a book on Zephon's history in his room when he had mistaken the sounds for some sort of monster that had gotten in. Then they had spoken up, and to be honest?

He would have taken the monster.

At the very least, Clive supposed. An interview could soften his image. Or make it worse. But she was already here, and had already hunted him down. And Clive, who was no stranger to being hunted down, knew the best thing to do was to confront his pursuer directly.

"Of course. I will be but a moment."

That gave him a minute to get Torgal to heave off him, since the oversized pooch had been napping on his chest while he was reading. How this bed had held the weight, he wasn't sure. But he had heard the group's other leader was a large man, it was likely they had commissioned beds for the place with size like his in mind. Not the couch, however. Perhaps he should charge for his time so he could afford a replacement for the couch that Torgal destroyed.

Nah. Just be polite and get this over with.

Clive took a moment to fix up his hair and look somewhat presentable before opening the door. His body language had changed the moment it opened, his rougher and more rushed movements replaced with something more smooth and elegant. The truth of the matter was, this woman was a stranger. And one whose products reached the city as a whole. He knew it was best he looked the part, even if he really didn't want to do so. Because a misstep could make his situation even worse. The way Clive Rosfield walked, the way he ran, the way he carried himself... Much of the Rest had looked at him like some kind of intimidating monster. He didn't need to have that happen here. Fortunately, one thing he still remembered from his childhood was all that time practicing theatre with Uncle Byron. So for a little bit at least, for diplomacy's sake... He could play the part of passing as the lord he once was.

"I am grateful for your patience, Miss Vayne. What can I do for you?" he spoke gently, doing his best to withhold an urge to projectile vomit at the overwhelming smell of her perfume. He would close the door behind him, not wanting to have it bother Torgal.

Clive wasn't good at hiding his feelings, something he was very much aware of. But it was what it was. He was protective of someone that had been at his side for many a year when not many were. And Dion had slighted him, in Clive's view. Dion's reasoning was unsatisfactory, but he would gain nothing from pressing further except to bring Dion further discomfort. All he could do was hope that one day, perhaps years down the line, Harpocrates would join them here and Dion could finally give him peace. What little optimism he had left wanted to think that Dion would happily do so if that day came.

In that, he had tried to bring Dion some level of comfort. He harbored no real resentment towards Dion, and did not wish him anguish. Regardless of their disagreements, he had fought and died for their crusade against Ultima. And he had suffered by Anabella's hand, much the same as he had. But there was no comfort to be had -- perhaps their viewpoints were just too different. And yet, as bullheadedly stubborn as the once-Lord Rosfield could be, it would not stop him from trying.

"Trust your people. You fought for their right to live, and to live free" Clive decided to try that idea again. "Now it's their turn. You and I both share a desire to be there and see our people, whether they were ones we once governed over, or those we loved... To a peaceful tomorrow with Ultima gone. I understand that. But we did what we could, to ensure that Valisthea's fate is in their hands, no matter the cost to us. And I trust my people completely. They will do right by the world... And hopefully one day those we love will be here to tell us all about it."

Clive glanced around the room a moment, just... Taking in for that moment where he was. Where, truly, he really was.

"In the meanwhile, the best thing for us is to focus on the future. We were brought to this world for a reason. I know not what my future holds, but this world has people who have done their best to aid me. If I can protect their world the same as Valisthea, I will do so. It is only right, that I do right by them. As for yourself, Your Highness... What you do now is yours to dictate."

Predictably, he supposed, Dion wasn't thrilled to hear that he had lost his power. Including that which he had taken from Dion. Clive had almost forgotten that he had siphoned Dion's power in particular -- it wasn't exactly voluntary, after all. So the questions came, and Clive took a long, deep breath. He really should have asked that woman for a drink.

“I apologize if this is difficult to hear.”

He understood Dion's worries. He would perhaps have been the same in his position. Ifrit had become a part of him -- he would likely feel the same distress if his connection to Ifrit had been taken, and then disappeared completely. Just as his connection to the others had disappeared...

This was how it felt, wasn't it? To have your eikon taken from you? What he had done to Benedikta, Kupka, Cid, Dion, Jill, Barnabas and Joshua? For what had become part of you to suddenly disappear? He did not feel kindred to the others the same way he did Ifrit, but if it had been Ifrit...

There was a pause as he tried to piece together where to even begin with this. He supposed... It was best that he finish his previous story.

"Back at Origin. With the power of the Eikons put together, I slew Ultima. As with the others, I unwittingly took his power. I tried to use it alongside the power of the Phoenix to heal Joshua... But I know not if I succeeded. The attempt quickly began to destroy my body. Ultima's power was too much for my body to handle. Knowing my time was short, I used all that I had left in me to destroy Origin. To end the Blight and wipe that last piece of Ultima from our world, setting it free at last. Soon after, the Curse rapidly took hold and thus, brought my life to an end."

He'd died, or at least he seemed to. He still wasn't entirely sure what had happened when he lost consciousness, and could only make guesses.

"I awoke here. I saw this city's crystal... And I thought we had failed. That one more clone of Ultima still remained. I stormed the castle, intent on finishing the job and avenging Joshua. But a Bearer, that woman who leads these Dragonblades, stood in my way. While I suspect she may be her world's Dominant of Ice... Despite being a Bearer, she fought with all she had to protect that Mothercrystal. It was such a strange and disturbing sight, to see her and other Bearers fighting with their very lives to protect the bastion of which our nations had turned them into slaves, tools... Things, instead of people. I was still wounded from the fight with Ultima, so I attempted to prime in hopes of destroying the Mothercrystal before it was too late. But I couldn't."

He looked down at his hand. A hand which should have called Ifrit forth, and yet... "My connection to Ifrit is there... Yet it has weakened substantially. My connection to the Phoenix is... About the same as it was before Joshua died. I still retain its blessing, but as an Eikon, it is no longer mine to command. Rauru, my last memento of Cid... Titan, Odin, Garuda, Shiva..."

He gave Dion an apologetic look. He didn't want to break it to him, but...

"... And Bahamut. My connection to them is gone. I'm sorry."

He couldn't undo what had been done. He could not give Dion back his power, nor would he even know how if he could. He wished he didn't have to bring Dion that pain, but that was the reality of their situation.

"I was able to semi-prime against that Bearer. So Ifrit is still there, as is the Phoenix's blessing, but thus far, no more. It allowed me to survive long enough to enter negotiation. Because of her, I searched the crystal for signs of Ultima... And found nothing."

A long sigh ensued from that. "Even now, I've caused the people here pain and suffering, as always seems to fall in my wake. No matter what my intentions are."

Something he didn't like to show, and had refused to show much of the time around the Cursebreakers. The fact that he'd had to push forward because it was the right thing to do... But deep down, the impact of all he did in the short-term would cause people pain. In the long-term, it was the right thing for them... And the only way for them to survive. To prosper. It bothered him, that sacrifice he'd needed to make. He didn't mind being labelled an outlaw, or a criminal, a menace, a beast, a freak, any of it. But the suffering he had caused others would forever be etched in his soul. And now, without knowing all the details, without considering he could be in another world entirely, he had caused these people grief.

"I'm at least grateful that Lady Chere was able to stop me before it was too late. Allowed me to remain here, and try to pick up the pieces. I will admit that I feel like parts of myself are gone. Both from the loss of the Eikons... And losing Joshua. But the power I took was never taken willingly. If I could return it to you, I would."

A thought occurred to him, then. The same one that had spurred his concern before...

"Lady Chere informed me that horrible, powerful people from these people's respective worlds have come to this one. I have no proof to support this, but it is possible that if other Dominants, such as Benedikta, Kupka and Barnabas are here as well... Their power may have returned to them."

That was a horrifying thought. But if Clive had kept a very specific part of his power, while losing the ones that weren't directly tied to him...

He stared at Dion, studying his face to try and discern an answer as he spoke.

"How much of your power have you attempted to use, Your Highness?"

"Well, you see Mid has been using me, amongst others, to gather materials for her. As I am sure you and the rest of this merry band knows. But I am not allowed to leave this place without an escort, and-" Clive had begun to try and explain before, once the woman turned around, he didn't have much room to speak further.

Lord Marquess. How long had it been since anyone had called him that name? He hadn't expected to hear it again, especially in a world where Rosaria didn't exist. "You are... One of the Cursebreakers, right? I feel like I've seen you around the Hideaway" Clive responded softly as he studied her face. He knew he had seen it before, but he interacted with so many day by day. Or, well... He had. Before he had died. Then it was just he, Torgal, and Mid. A second chance at life he had never expected to have, but in conditions that made him question whether he should have had this chance at all.

Torgal meanwhile, would lunge forward, hoping to jump on Nerissa and lick at her hands. He recognized the scent, and she had most likely given him treat bones like most of the Hideaway had at this point, so it was little wonder that the oversized dog would want to give her some measure of affection. Clive let out a long sigh as he tried to keep Torgal from going overboard, listening as this Nerissa would point out the blunder that the entire city knew about by now.

"Yes, yes, I know. I've only been reminded of it about twenty seven... Thousand times" Clive remarked at that. "Long story short -- I thought Ultima was in the crystal. Like how he was in all the other crystals. And I literally died killing Ultima the first time. If I hadn't actually destroyed Origin and the remaining Mothercrystals, I needed to act fast. And I did not have one of these handy "Welcome to Zephon" manuals under -after- I tried to destroy it."

He'd told this story too many times now, and he wasn't getting into the depths of his grief again. It was getting unhealthy.

"It is, however, good to see another familiar face. And an actually friendly one at that. Don't see many of those anymore."