Noctis's mysterious headaches, along with the stunningly mercurial weather, has all of them in a tizzy. That, and the fact that a decent chunk of night driving in an effort to avoid the nigh-constant MT patrols has drained the gas tank and their collective wallets.
...that, and the Regalia took an unfortunate swipe from a Yojimbo's blade and Cindy hadn't been pleased. At all. And Ignis wasn't pleased at the repair bill (which even Noct had winced at). So here they were, running around Duscae, taking on hunts and slaying monsters and selling everything they didn't desperately need for just a few more gil.
Even Prompto's wise-cracking had taken a nose-dive after their third night munching on cheese pizza in the pouring rain.
The infant squalls in his arms, and Ardyn runs a hand over their downy head, trying desperately to calm them. Their mother had been bleeding black when she'd approached their camp - and upon seeing them she'd placed the baby down and tried to run. She hadn't even made it out of the clearing before her spine had cracked and her skin split open.
Ardyn sprinted over to the baby, grabbing it just as a tail whip-cracked at him - only to deflect off Gilgamesh's shield as he throws himself between the healer and the new, horrific serpent daemon.
The former mother wails as they flee - an awful noise that they know is going to draw more daemons to the area. It's just on dusk, and they'd been trying to make it to Morskangr, but that plan's gone out the window.
A goblin leaps out in front of them, cackling, and Ardyn curses as he slips, losing his footing in the leaf litter as he tries to stop from running directly into it. It reaches out a bony, grasping hand towards the baby and he gasps out a "No--"
Its fingers graze the bared skin of his arm and it shrieks as it seems to wither, body contracting in on itself until it simply disintegrates. The forest echoes with the sobbing screams of the snake daemon, and the panting of the two men as they try to process what happened.
Abruptly, Ardyn realises that the baby's stopped crying, and he looks to down to see tiny hands clenching on a miasm-smeared blanket. The baby is crying black tears, and there's a hideous dark tracery visible beneath it's delicate skin. An advanced infection, and he has to fight down the urge to be sick.
He's still staring at the child when Gilgamesh's gauntleted hands grab him under the armpits and haul him upright.
"We need to move, Ardyn." He's right. The forests that surround Morskangr are no place to stay at night. Besides the obvious problems of literal daemons, there are rumours of couerls moving through the area, and he really doesn't want to find a dualhorn when it's pitch dark. But if he doesn't heal this baby soon they'll die, and another daemon will rise.
Gods damn that zu that decided their airship was flying too near to its nest.
Nyyrikki knows only the howling snow - to burrow beneath for warmth and slumber, where to look for small game. The snowy wastelands of Uelthham are not for the faint of heart, but they are all Nyyrikki cares to know. At night, daemons ooze up from the snow - bussemand that leap and snatch, and snaga, nimble and hungering.
Once, Nyyrikki even saw a Wraith stalk and ensnare a patrol - it choked them to death and devoured their souls, leaving lifeless corpses behind. Nyyrikki has scavenged from the bodies - a handgun, and bullets. Some rations. Cold-proof inners, which they wrapped around their hands and feet.
Over the past cycles of moon rise and set, however, Nyyrikki has seen something new. Patrols in airships, carrying massive crates. The patrols did not see Nyyrikki, hidden under the insulating snow, watching them. They even heard one of the patrollers say that they hoped the 'daemon traps' would catch something interesting.
Idiot patrols. Catching daemons is bad luck. But the daemon traps had an interesting effect - they drew in game, of many sizes. Ptarmigan waddle right up to the cold metal boxes, inspecting and pecking at their reflections. Foxes stalk the ptarmigans, and eagles swoop at the foxes. And if there's game, Nyyrikki is interested.
They stalk the ptarmigan, crouching low over the snow, before pouncing all at once. Nyyrikki breaks the neck of the bird and scurries back away from the cage. It is precious warmth and energy, and Nyyrikki carefully plucks it clean beneath the shelter of a pine thicket.
A lone fox watches carefully from a distance and to it Nyyrikki throws the intestines and entrails. The meat is cooling fast and chewy, but it is delicious. Nyyrikki scrubs their hands and face with snow, and then eats the pink-stained snow, determined not to waste a drop.
That night, as Nyyrikki dozes fitfully beneath the snow, a daemon wanders into the trap. The bussemand howls louder than the wind and they startle awake. There's an awful metallic tearing noise, and the bussemand pack shrieks in return. Nyyrikki cowers under the snow as the daemons above holler and scream, metallic crunching and dull thuds echoing across the night.
Ignis follows quietly behind Uncle Caelius, careful not to step on the ceremonial cape that brushed along the floor. Yesterday he had met Prince Noctis, and promised to be his friend and guidance. Their footsteps echoed on the polished stone floors of the Citadel, away from the public corridors.
Every so often, they'd pass a stern looking Crownsguard - and then, as they got closer to where they were going, Kingsglaive resplendent in black and silver.
Eventually, they got to a pair of double doors, flanked by two Kingsglaive. Both had partially shaved heads, and braids in their hair. Galahdians! Thought Ignis, astonished to see the legendary fighters up close.
--
Marshal Leonis was abrupt, but polite enough as he leaned against the bench, watching as a tech scanned both of Ignis's handprints, and then took an identification photo. Uncle Caelius swapped information about upcoming budgetary changes for Crownsguard deployment locations with Marshal Leonis - and all the while, Ignis had the strange feeling that he was being assessed and measured.
Then, with a brand new chipped ID card burning a hole in his pocket, Caelius led him upwards, before stopping in a quiet, cream-carpeted antechamber. His uncle kneels, and rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"You'll be fine, Ignis. I'll be back later this afternoon, and we can go and get pasta for dinner."
Behind him, a door opens and a Very Tall Woman walks in, full skirt sweeping across the floor. Caelius squeezes his shoulder once, and stands, brushing non-existant dust from his clothes.
"Ah, Lord Scientia. I should have expected you to be early."
The first time Noctis dons the Ring is when they enter Fociaugh Hollow. Luna joins them, despite the boys' misgivings - and it comes in handy when the Naga snatches Prompto.
What is less impressive is the fact that burns creep up Noct's arm and neck, and he's weaker than he should be.
kingoffishing has created 'roadtrip me758'. kingoffishing has invited sharpwit, lockandload, eagleswings kingoffishing [0213 4/18]: so mom wants to hold a 'family dinner' before we go lockandload: ?? what's the problem kingoffishing: ugh kingoffishing: it's just going to be one of those 'remember your manners, you're representing all of lucis!' snoozefests again lockandload: queen aulea's cool tho kingoffishing: you would lockandload: she is!!! she's almost as good as warping as you are, and she's scarier than the king!!
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gladio, gentled (chapter 3; the open world)
...that, and the Regalia took an unfortunate swipe from a Yojimbo's blade and Cindy hadn't been pleased. At all. And Ignis wasn't pleased at the repair bill (which even Noct had winced at). So here they were, running around Duscae, taking on hunts and slaying monsters and selling everything they didn't desperately need for just a few more gil.
Even Prompto's wise-cracking had taken a nose-dive after their third night munching on cheese pizza in the pouring rain.
(no subject)
to you, two thousand years ago
Ardyn sprinted over to the baby, grabbing it just as a tail whip-cracked at him - only to deflect off Gilgamesh's shield as he throws himself between the healer and the new, horrific serpent daemon.
The former mother wails as they flee - an awful noise that they know is going to draw more daemons to the area. It's just on dusk, and they'd been trying to make it to Morskangr, but that plan's gone out the window.
A goblin leaps out in front of them, cackling, and Ardyn curses as he slips, losing his footing in the leaf litter as he tries to stop from running directly into it. It reaches out a bony, grasping hand towards the baby and he gasps out a "No--"
Its fingers graze the bared skin of his arm and it shrieks as it seems to wither, body contracting in on itself until it simply disintegrates. The forest echoes with the sobbing screams of the snake daemon, and the panting of the two men as they try to process what happened.
Abruptly, Ardyn realises that the baby's stopped crying, and he looks to down to see tiny hands clenching on a miasm-smeared blanket. The baby is crying black tears, and there's a hideous dark tracery visible beneath it's delicate skin. An advanced infection, and he has to fight down the urge to be sick.
He's still staring at the child when Gilgamesh's gauntleted hands grab him under the armpits and haul him upright.
"We need to move, Ardyn." He's right. The forests that surround Morskangr are no place to stay at night. Besides the obvious problems of literal daemons, there are rumours of couerls moving through the area, and he really doesn't want to find a dualhorn when it's pitch dark. But if he doesn't heal this baby soon they'll die, and another daemon will rise.
Gods damn that zu that decided their airship was flying too near to its nest.
pt2
pt3 cw emeto
pt4
tear your skin to taste your beating heart
Once, Nyyrikki even saw a Wraith stalk and ensnare a patrol - it choked them to death and devoured their souls, leaving lifeless corpses behind. Nyyrikki has scavenged from the bodies - a handgun, and bullets. Some rations. Cold-proof inners, which they wrapped around their hands and feet.
Over the past cycles of moon rise and set, however, Nyyrikki has seen something new. Patrols in airships, carrying massive crates. The patrols did not see Nyyrikki, hidden under the insulating snow, watching them. They even heard one of the patrollers say that they hoped the 'daemon traps' would catch something interesting.
Idiot patrols. Catching daemons is bad luck. But the daemon traps had an interesting effect - they drew in game, of many sizes. Ptarmigan waddle right up to the cold metal boxes, inspecting and pecking at their reflections. Foxes stalk the ptarmigans, and eagles swoop at the foxes. And if there's game, Nyyrikki is interested.
They stalk the ptarmigan, crouching low over the snow, before pouncing all at once. Nyyrikki breaks the neck of the bird and scurries back away from the cage. It is precious warmth and energy, and Nyyrikki carefully plucks it clean beneath the shelter of a pine thicket.
A lone fox watches carefully from a distance and to it Nyyrikki throws the intestines and entrails. The meat is cooling fast and chewy, but it is delicious. Nyyrikki scrubs their hands and face with snow, and then eats the pink-stained snow, determined not to waste a drop.
That night, as Nyyrikki dozes fitfully beneath the snow, a daemon wanders into the trap. The bussemand howls louder than the wind and they startle awake. There's an awful metallic tearing noise, and the bussemand pack shrieks in return. Nyyrikki cowers under the snow as the daemons above holler and scream, metallic crunching and dull thuds echoing across the night.
pt 2
pt 2.5
pt 3
pt 4
pt 5 (timeskip whee)
oh, you've always been my north star (baby ignis)
Every so often, they'd pass a stern looking Crownsguard - and then, as they got closer to where they were going, Kingsglaive resplendent in black and silver.
Eventually, they got to a pair of double doors, flanked by two Kingsglaive. Both had partially shaved heads, and braids in their hair. Galahdians! Thought Ignis, astonished to see the legendary fighters up close.
--
Marshal Leonis was abrupt, but polite enough as he leaned against the bench, watching as a tech scanned both of Ignis's handprints, and then took an identification photo. Uncle Caelius swapped information about upcoming budgetary changes for Crownsguard deployment locations with Marshal Leonis - and all the while, Ignis had the strange feeling that he was being assessed and measured.
Then, with a brand new chipped ID card burning a hole in his pocket, Caelius led him upwards, before stopping in a quiet, cream-carpeted antechamber. His uncle kneels, and rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"You'll be fine, Ignis. I'll be back later this afternoon, and we can go and get pasta for dinner."
Behind him, a door opens and a Very Tall Woman walks in, full skirt sweeping across the floor. Caelius squeezes his shoulder once, and stands, brushing non-existant dust from his clothes.
"Ah, Lord Scientia. I should have expected you to be early."
(no subject)
ring of the lucii burns
What is less impressive is the fact that burns creep up Noct's arm and neck, and he's weaker than he should be.
that terrible chatfic
kingoffishing has invited sharpwit, lockandload, eagleswings
kingoffishing [0213 4/18]: so mom wants to hold a 'family dinner' before we go
lockandload: ?? what's the problem
kingoffishing: ugh
kingoffishing: it's just going to be one of those 'remember your manners, you're representing all of lucis!' snoozefests again
lockandload: queen aulea's cool tho
kingoffishing: you would
lockandload: she is!!! she's almost as good as warping as you are, and she's scarier than the king!!