#servomundi

[vernades]

@servomundi​ -- ;

“So, you’re the king’s right-hand man. I’m Cipher Fernandez.”

[antimundi-blog]

Arrests had been sweeping across Insomnia and even into Lucis proper, the cities of Meldacio and Galdin Quay were ramping up their cracking down of Niflheim loyalists, but it seemed like it was never enough. Every other week there was some disruption in trade or other enterprises within the slowly liberating former territories, especially in Galahd that had been entrenched as a Niff colony much longer than the mainland. Noctis bent over his desk as he studied several trade manifests, gritting his teeth while wine-rose eyes flitted between papers.

“We’re going to have to do something about this sooner or later, Nyx,” the king said to his Shield, gaze flicking up to the man.

@servomundi

[carminearbalist-blog]

OutOfCharge://

* Has been low-key watching  @servomundi from a distance for a while in-between Retail Hell. *  Reve, being a nonbinary Galahdian himself, finding out Nyx stepped forward as transfemme: * Raises his bottle with a little grin. * “ ...I can drink to that. Cheers.~ “ 

[donotserve]

‘ i was told that if i lost my magic, it meant that i had lost everything. and they took it from me. ’ / @servomundi.

[antimundi-blog]

 With death came lights; at the end of tunnels, to some place beyond that was dead and final. Sometimes, they felt like the exact opposite of where one had died and what had been hammer nail was buttercup and meadow. Was this that? Wine-rose eyes with shrunk pupils fluttered open faster than a count, Noctis lurching in a bed too soft, like he’d been smothered and waiting for suffocation. Brightness–soft morning light. Too beautiful for eyes accustomed to harsh florescence and cold floors of concrete and steel doors with traps as the only front into a world outside. He sat up with boiling blood trilling with fear remembering, remembering… From bay windows and luxurious appointments did his heart lurch sickly. Skin trembled, too pale and too frail from months of torment–

 “Nyx.”

 The word shuddered from his throat and the prince blindly tossed back his sheets, staggering to his feet and colliding into the wall as he leaned into it heavily as panic gripped him. With the coordination of a newborn colt, sickly did his stomach as emptiness and terror clenched it. From across the hall did he hear Weskham likely preparing breakfast, eyes switching in blind fear. The room–across from her! Barreling through and tumbling to the ground, he saw a shape beneath sheets, breathing soft, an IV attached to her arm…

 It was too easy to break. Months of stagnancy and abuse and suddenly feeling human again overwhelmed him, but…not Nyx. Not her! At the bed’s flank he clung to it, knees to the floor as he stared at the glaive with worrying eyes that shone and shook. Composure shattered, he sunk to his knees and sobbed wretchedly into the comforter.

 “I… I’m sorry.”

@servomundi

[antimundi-blog]

He might be leaning in a little too close to his Shield’s space, but there’s an undeniable smirk blooming as he does so, egging a reaction from them being the primary goal. “Something the matter, Nyxie? You seem a little flushed.”

@servomundi

[antimundi-blog]

“Hey, Nyx--any idea where the sheet music is? Think Lib was asking about it.”

@servomundi

[regesc]

“Look, are you coming or not?”  Irritation  /  less that  , more a  touch  of  impatience . “Last chance to get in the car.”  //  @servomundi​