#ignis ic.

[ofhope]

Night has descended. Evening a bygone memory, morning a dream -- Noctis fell into his slumber months back, and destruction ate at the world. Ignis needn't sight to bear witness to the changes, and oft pitied those not given that luxury — 'luxury,' he murmurs, irritability in his veins — but perceived it all the same. Cries met his ears, Daemon song became ambiance, and too often were the slash of his blades not enough to turn the tide. Foolish men battled alone, and Ignis never considered himself dull.

It took research by the hands of another, most documents not translated into braille, as if his scant knowledge would reward him anything valuable; but loyalty had its pitfalls. He'd suffer again at the hands of divine judgement should it afford him the same result. In time, Cindy provided enough detail from old Lucis texts about trusted Arms, some names Ignis recognized, others from outside Kingdoms. Assassin? Cindy had baulked, astounded and vaguely concerned about who, precisely, these forces were, but such was what he sought. Travel, now, was longer. A day's worth of travel took a week, if you survived the Daemon onslaught.

Thus did Ignis stand, flame licking at his heels, readied at the border dividing Leide & everywhere else, the region unassuming... but the spawn, and the end, of so much. His long-awaited backup should pass by any moment now, if the distant thrum of an engine said anything.

(He, after all, liked to think his hearing was relatively well.)

"Ah. I should hope you were briefed on our ... situation," in his time serving the Line of Lucis, he was always given information aplentiful; it took less than a month for that belief to be shattered, but perhaps other factions, less intwined with the complications arising from royalty, fared better. "In which case: we'll start here. Provisions are running short, and as you're well aware, the path to and 'fro is treacherous. I need naught but another pair of eyes, should the way forward be difficult to swallow... however, if your profile is up-to-date... I believe this is nothing in comparison to your prior history."

@spungolden, starter call!

[ofhope]

"Excuse me sir, you dropped these." She said before holding out his glasses.

(Myst @ Ignis)

"Ah."

Explains the burn that itches his eyelids. Pondering how they went askew in the first place, Ignis waits a long moment, perturbed at this development. Even in the throes of battle, they're scant to fall to the wayside... yet now, they've seemingly departed of their own accord, for no reason other than...

Ignis feels around the eyewear, a disapproving grumble leaving him. On one of the legs bears a splintering, one he had been aware of for some time, but hadn't had repaired: he has aplenty, and his funds are, typically, spent elsewhere. Although he hasn't picked up a spatula in some time, that doesn't mean he and the rest of Noctis' ensemble go without adequate replenishment. ... even if he hardly believes cup noodles to be adequate in any sort. He and Gladiolus rarely clash heads, but that's one argument that, he believes, will rage on 'till the end of days.

"I thank you for returning them to me. I..."

His tongue burns. Resulting to assistance was one of his many everyday pitfalls now, and though it bears necessity, Ignis can't quite get the words out. Grabbing both the detached leg and the shades themself, he tucks them into his front pocket, squinting at the unrelenting daylight. Perhaps this was a sort of divine intervention; forcing his hand. Perhaps it was salt rubbed further into his wound.

Ignis breathes a sigh, weary and reluctant.

"I've a round of plasters in my back pocket. If you'd be so kind, I'd ask... you... to assist in repairing them for me. It's rudimentary, but a temporary fix. I'll retrieve another pair come evening."

[ofhope]

"Precisely. Were I to start now, it would surely deal a great blow to my character."

Fire had frills, contrary to popular belief. Every calling of magic possessed technique, refinement, one could not harbor the elements without soliciting one's deepest self. Ignis, naturally, served as one of its many catalysts, paling -- always -- in comparison to the Phoenix before him. It's an honor to be instilled with as much means as Ignis is; it's a privilege to learn from the greatest to offer. Hands cradle a still-warmed tea, the brisk of the morning yet to settle into their bones.

"Should I prove too dishonorable a student, you can, always, retract my assistance. I arrive and I depart only by your strict say."

His lips quirk, though the humor is short-lived. It's sincere in its portrayal, however fitting to their current public visage. There is no audience, and the stagelight doesn't dry his hair, there is only respite and a conversation only halfway had with more promised to follow. It's a wondrous change of scenery given their recent run-ins.

"It's only theorized that two can meld their abilities. It will take action and subsequent inaction to prove or disprove its existence. I merely sought your opinion on the matter."

Ignis breathes a steamy sigh.

"To cut out the fat: I'm inquiring as to whether you'd wish for me to remain by your side. You know full well my opinion, however I've yet to receive one from you. Given prior circumstances, I didn't find it fitting to bring it up. Now that you've been afforded a fresh set of clothing, a belly full of food and a night's rest, I thought I might venture forth."

@feinic!