”… What flavor did you say it was again?“ Memory was a flaky thing in his own case. To remember and forget were such simple, intertwined concepts that it was terribly easy to forget just about anything. He was certain she had told him before, when they were first there and he’d commented on the clock tower sharing the same up-ended arch as the symbol of his country, but what remained in its place was simply a void.
Could he even remember what the clock tower looked like?
So to follow after her was all he could do, to make small talk and to attempt to coerce some lighthearted tales of small adventures and new worlds out of her small, silent persona. It’d be hard, he knew, but that was the pain of having somebody so similar to him.
There would always be the desire to say everything and yet nothing at all.

”Sea salt,” was her response, given readily and easily. Responding to simple questions like that were as easy as breathing, as blinking and moving, they required no excess thought on her part because they were simple fact. They did not require the spinning of tale or edging around a lie, there was no defense that had to be given on her part.
So she liked those kinds of things.
Though at the same time that meant that her conversations were stagnant. One sided and difficult to navigate because it was hard for her to keep up a flow of dialogue, hard for her to respond accordingly and as to be expected. Ace seemed to understand that but, in the end, that meant that it could be difficult to talk to him.
Nonetheless she made her way downstairs and out of the mansion, nose wrinkling only slightly at the dust and musk as she glanced back at her companion. Sea salt ice cream probably sounded discomfiting compared to more regular flavors, so she smiled encouragingly, ”It’s good though, salty but then sweet.”
An almost redundant explanation, but it got her point across.