metal digits passed through soft imaginary resistance where the gun should press. . another illusion, another voice, moved, distant but no less the breeze that blows on the loathing embers. ploy to shock and disarm ruined, he has no choice but to let his arm drop back down. he turned to face the man, ignoring the lasting illusion that still pointed at him. eyebrows furrowed, eyes defiant as always.

“ nay,  but t’is remiss of me to assume you would not celebrate your own presence here. with that foolish prince still wandering about you haven’t gotten what you’re after, i assume his adviser dealt with you? sloppy work sending us here. “ hands rolled into his fists at his side. puffy as ever, that silly tenebrean prince.

The disgraced royalty’s flood of vile emotion felt like a drizzle on his skin. He welcomed it. Amber eyes focused on the gauntlet that would spell disaster, hinting quietly at what may be going on in the chancellor’s head. “I am not so easily dealt with.” His wrist flicked to the other to underline his argument. “It appears, the gods are in a mood for vile jests. Since you already met with your dear sister’s betrothed, I assume she too was taken from her eternal slumber?  Is it so surprising I was called back for a reprise as well?” 

only so i can kick ur ass

          NO WORDS RANG TRUER THAN those which he spoke, having never once noticed the peculiar figure of the man that remained. even now she only regards him as nothing more than a lingering presence, the tip of her sword planting itself into the cement with little effort. ❝ Geh. Hero? What a joke… you’ve got the wrong person calling me a that. As if I’d want some disgusting title as that, ❞ she retorts easily enough, partially tempted to make a gagging notion at the thought itself.

          ❝ They got in my way, that’s all that it was. If you wish to play hobo in distress, there are plenty of others around who will play that stupid little game. ❞

Shrugging and sighing, he knelt down to one of the outlaws that lost consciousness and picked up the dagger near their hand. Whirling it playfully some, then he put it away to disappear beneath his elaborate coat. Though she struck with words, precise and sharp as the edge he concealed now, he let the words stab him and smiled back. “Of course I can call you something else, you’ll just have to tell me what.” He dusted the wing-shaped accesory on his arm off and got back on his feet, tapping his lips in appearing thought. 

✧  ARDYN IZUNIA (FFXV SPOILERS AHEAD)

- AR-DYN (NAME)

When someone is so fake you feel the constant need to hit them in the face with a chair. Ex. “Dude offered me to tour me around and then murdered my friends and family and hung them from the ceiling! What an Ardyn!”

- The not-so-human incarnation of an unskippable youtube ad. Lives to pester. Guess that comes with being the daemon pest incarnate.

- Acts nice. Acts always nice. Is always an eccentric weirdo about it. Whether he’s having tea with you or is twisting a knife in your abdomen, expect him to :^) 

- it’s always the chancellor 

     ☼ █ ❝ ‘Chosen heroes’, huh, ❞ the former l’Cie mumbles the words, them rolling off her tongue as if with some nostalgia. Truly in some forms, her own story is one like the aforementioned ones… Though of course, Vanille would argue that her friends are more worthy of such tales being fashioned after them than she.

     ❝ I like stories like that; stories with someone beating the supposedly unbeatable odds and getting a happy ending, ❞ she starts with a knowing look, soon humming in thought upon hearing the stranger’s question.

     ❝ And I know of a few… Some sad, some happy. Are you one of those people that likes sadder stories? ❞

The subtle changes in expression in reply to the trope didn’t go unnoticed and he put a mental bookmark there. Since a new one opened just before him, he put the book in his hold away. “Defying destiny and making your own happy end? Oh, I love those too.” His eyes joined his lips in smile and his voice took flight with his empty heart in his confession.  What good were odds, an idea of something too likely to happen, an inkling of a result already set in stone? What good were they, if not to be defied.

foolishly he had run to her side once more and foolishly again he’d fall into the same weakness. a lowered guard,a slack in his attention and the fight of tears as it was robbed from him again. only this time he was not allowed to take his sister in his arms. the click followed after the collapse to his knees. the prince of tenebrae’s outstretched hands balled into fists. static danced over the metal. eyes forced on his sister’s form, grief simmered into a resolute anger. “a fake…” he slowly inclined his head and reached for the barrel with his gauntlet. “ neither yours as daemon bile to take pride in these egregious decorations sapped in choler,  a r d y n.  what do you want?”

she paused to read the ticket, recognizing it as a ticket to twinkle park from her old home. she hadn’t even realized she had it on her. as silly as it sounded, it was kind of the only thing connecting her to mobius at the moment (if you didn’t count metal being here), so she quietly pocketed the ticket. “thanks-” she paused, staring tiredly at him. when were people going to stop saying that?  “you’re definitely not the first one to say that.” she said after a few seconds of silence.