Call Out Meme: Version 8.0

[shatteredlenses]

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Eighth verse same as the first... It's new 'Call Me Out" Time!




【the ❝CALL ME OUT❞ meme】 VIII
a roleplay meme to inspire muses.

♛ refer to the list above for active muses. ♛ post "calling" one of them out — you can do so by putting their name journal in the subject line! (I have too many Lancers to just go by name! X.x ) ♛ can be informal/formal/comment spam/crosscanon/explicit/whatever tickles your fancy! ♛ feel free to make up a scenario at the start, or wait to see where things go. meme code.

Comments

[parttimelover]

[call out; i want modern cudia shenanigans.]

[shatteredlenses]

(OOC: Any setting thoughts aside from 'modern' or do you want me just to pick something?)

All right, here goes! Let me know if you want to change anything!

[oathshackledbird]

[Honestly, Diarmuid can't bring himself to be surprised that things turned out like this. The job is one of the many that Cu Chulainn tends to around the campus, but instead of studying, here Diarmuid is shelving books while his boyfriend 'supervises' him from where he's leaning against the wood railing at the end of the shelf.

Diarmuid sighs silently, reaching to tip a book back into place. Supervising. Right. More likely, the other man is doing nothing else but watching him and the way he moves as he slides each book home. That sounds more like a Cu 'thing' than supervising ever will.]

You know, if you're going to act like you're supervising, you could at least give me a few tips now and then. You're not playing your part very well.

smallsacrifices

[want_to_belong]

Back in Insomnia, Ignis would find a mysterious note left on top of his things in the palace.

It read:
Iggy, important kingdomly business.
Ice-cream sandwiches. 4PM. At the Scoops'A'Lot Creamery.

Whoever could have left this mysterious note in the super cool to work in palace where only official dudes were allowed?

[smallsacrifices]

Who indeed? In another time, finding such a note, especially in amongst important documents, would upset Ignis. Here and now? He can't help but let a small smile raise the corner of his mouth. There is so much to do to get things back to normal, but with Noctis on the throne, those things seem so small. The hard part is done. Now they just put all those possibilities to work and make them reality.

At 4pm on the dot, he arrives at the requested location. Who knows what he's about to walk into, but he has a feeling it's probably going to be sweet.

For once, he won't even argue about that.

idea

[swordofzero]

((OOC

You'd already gone to bed so throws it here instead so you can yay or nay it when you wake up hopefully feeling better

Pretty much I want cute Dia and Suzaku thread. I wasn't sure you even had an Animus Dia muse anymore and throwing him against an adult Dia that did not know him would be too sad. But bitty Dia would be cute. Basic idea Suzu goes to portal hop to visit Diarmuid but crazy inter-world shenanigans happen and he ends up in ancient Ireland? Adventures happen? Adventures can definitely happen.

I can start but wanted to throw it past you first rather than just jumping on you with mushy nostalgia driven thread starter))

[shatteredlenses]

{OOC: Unfortunately, Animus Dia has been pretty quiet since the game ended and the post-game journal went quiet. Bitty Dia and Suzaku sounds SO ADORABLE, though. LETS DO IT!)

OOC

[zenoh]

( So, I have this girl as my most active character at the moment, and she is actuallu Sofia's lawfully wedded wife. The one that Sofia briefly mentioned once to be Sasaki Kojiro's descendant. So my idea so far could be Diarmuid being stuck in the modern world, so he could use a purpose. Ayame here could provide with that! )

[shatteredlenses]

(Oh yes! I remember her. :-) We can definitely do something with this. Did you want to start or should I?)

YOU KNWO WHAT THIS IS AND WHO IT'S FOR

[bloodyashes]

[The Royal Capital of Light, Baticul, finally at peace and prospering after the years of tension that followed the Hod War. On the top of the city rests a castle and a manor house, the two connected by an open, public courtyard and the two young royals who move constantly back and forth between the two.

Even with his mother's health steadily improving, and his eighteenth birthday past, Luke fon Fabre, the blood heir to the line and the heir presumptive, still insists on remaining a part of the manor household until he formally comes of age. Until then, it's back and forth, with paperwork shuffled between his study at home and the court proper -

His hair is shorter and cleaner-cut, and the court robes wrapped around his figure are only a bit longer than his knees, suitable for a young unmarried man. More telling, though, is 'Luke's' posture - relaxed, smiling, suspicion gone from his shoulders as he pauses to speak to someone in front of the statue that adorns the central courtyard.

It's... a blind man? How odd. He can't be much older than Guy (in his head, the Count who finally inherited what was left of the Hod properties is and always will be Guy, his older-brother-like childhood friend), which meant being only five or six during the war itself. And those clothes are so unfamiliar, too, the style and cut something he's only seen the like of on circus performers, and far too understated for that.

The voice that reaches Ignis is soft and gentle enough to almost be unrecognizable, as, indeed, would be the boy before him to someone with sight - ]

Excuse me, sir. Do you need any help?

I DOOOO?? :-D

[shatteredlenses]

[There is a perfect peace to this world that draws Ignis like an ice cold Ebony would at the end of a long day. It's a comparison he can't help but laugh to himself about. It seems so mundane in the face of what he feels. It's like comparing a puddle to the ocean, an unfinished poem placed against a gifted composer's magnum opus.

He's comfortable here, despite not knowing exactly where here is. The fact he thinks to compare this place to music makes him wonder...

...but could it really be?

Ignis' thoughts are scattered when a voice--it should be familiar, shouldn't it? But Ignis can think of no name to match it right away--addresses him. A welcoming smile crosses his face as he nods.]

I'm afraid I've found myself a bit out of my element. Help would be most appreciated if you aren't too busy. I'd hate to be a bother.

Iggy darling~

[piercetheheart]

((From this meme))

Most pets used for guardian work were canine. Of course Ignis had to be unique. To be fair no one could have guessed that the playful little bobcat he started out with would have grown to be quite so large. Or opinionated.

Gladio had plenty of opinions. For example, he was of the opinion that Ignis and his bed were both entirely his property to do with as he pleased. Which might be why, more often than not, Ignis awoke struggling to breathe while Gladio laid claim to the sunspot near the head of the bed. He stretched and rumbled and completely ignored the fact that he was laid almost entirely over Ignis' chest and head and was sleepily flexing his claws against his master's shoulder.

[shatteredlenses]

There was a time when Ignis' morning routine had been simple. Awake about ten minutes before his alarm went off, he set his coffee to brew, took a quick shower and then had breakfast. After that, he was off for another day of meetings, paperwork and making sure the soon-to-be new CEO of Lucis Caelum Enterprises was not late for his own meetings.

Of course, that all changed the day a man decided to use him as a way to send a message to the Lucis Caelums. Ignis had barely started to wrap his head around the fact that by some miracle he wasn't going to lose his vision, when his uncle began insisting on him getting a pet to be his guard.

Ignis was against the idea from the beginning. He was independent, busy, and already being pulling in more directions than any one person should be pulled in. He was the worst candidate to take in a pet no matter if said pet was going to be working just as hard as he was.

In the end, though, he couldn't deny not only his uncle, but the CEO, his son, and most of the Board when they insisted and even offered to cover the starting costs. What he could do was rebel in the only way still open to him.

He got a cat.

Out of all the millions of files full of canine choices, he went out on his own and got a cat.

The very same cat who changed his mornings from routine to chaos, from smooth wake ups, to struggled gasps for breath. Obviously, this day is no different despite the many talks they've had regarding this very topic.

Ignis struggles to pull his arm from under his stalwart-guard-turned-attempted-murderer. If he can only get to the cat's ears to scratch them, then he will be free. The problem is, he can't feel his arm right now and so all his struggling does nothing more than waste his breath.

With a sigh, he leans up as close to one of the cat's ears as he can before hissing, "If you smother me, there will be no breakfast for you!"

vaguely phanrift setting with a million retcons

[burninglight]

[A lot of things made sense now. Inconsistencies he never looked at long enough to reconcile, blank spaces in his memory, a debilitating and deep fear of confinement, the constant doubts that anyone could ever be trusted...]

[Ardyn hadn't slept a full night in weeks, and now he understood why. The best explanation he could come up with was that something had gone wrong in the transferral to this body and the rearranging of his memories. Nina had taken on more than she could handle, put more than any mortal could comprehend in a mortal form and it had splintered as a result. It was still splintered even now, with wide stretches of time Ardyn couldn't account for.]

[It fractures itself to protect itself.]

[His hand shook as he tried to focus on the design notes in front of him--where had he learned magitek? No, he knew the answer to that. It was always Aera, lover of ancient Solheim ruins and history as she was. Aera, who died for him. Aera, who he'd forgotten utterly. His own life as a human was torn shreds stitching itself together, a puzzle with too many missing pieces. Like putting together a story from rumors, anecdotes, half-recalled memories-]

[Adagium.]

...fuck. [He dropped the pen and murmured that into his hands before producing a bottle from the Armiger and taking a drink. Leaning on fucking Xander's coping mechanisms wasn't wise, but today he wasn't dealing with any of this sober.]

[Least of all knowing what he needed to do right now.]

i need to talk to you

i'm in the tech lab trying to get some work done today so there's no reason to rush

but it's important. and i don't have any other blood relative i can talk to.

[This was, at its core, something only a Lucian would truly grasp the full scope of. Church and the others understood, but they didn't have context in any way Ardyn could give. Didn't know the underlying horror that came with the word 'Starscourge', didn't know how the Founder King was so revered based on lies. Desperate and unsure, there was only one Lucis Caelum he could talk to right now.]

[Gods, how he missed Noctis more than ever...even knowing who he resembled. Noctis would have understood, would have made things seem less fucking horrific even knowing all that Ardyn had done to him out of a projected grudge. Noctis was everything Somnus wasn't, and...more a brother to Ardyn than anyone had ever been.]

And you KNOW there are like a million more to come...

[kingkingcxiii]

[When the message arrives, it is no surprise to Regis. Almost since the moment he arrived, he knew something was wrong with Ardyn's memories. He spoke of some things with a depth of knowledge he couldn't have. Other things, he seemed to forget completely. Apologies came for a great many wrongs--for Noctis' fate, for the Fall--but never once had there been a mention of the day they first met, of the ruin and lives lost so long before that false peace treaty. As much as Regis wanted to believe it was all a matter of the memory tampering that had occurred during that accursed TV series Ardyn was dragged to, he had no idea if that was true.

Apparently, it was finally time to find out.

His response to the text is brief, a mere confirmation he's on his way. It will take some time for him to make it to the lab. Moving from one place to another is still a slow process no matter the improvements that have come both to his brace and his knee since arriving. Only so much can be fixed when the joint itself is so battered. For once, though, Regis is not too annoyed with this. It gives him time to set himself and to consider what he may be walking into. Ardyn's been almost completely absent this whole week. Whatever he has remembered is no small thing. Were it, he would be talking to one of his adopted family about it. He would not be requesting the presence of one who is blood, of one who so intimately knows the twisted paths that fate and the Astrals have drug their family down.

Regis knocks on the lab's door once he arrives, though he doesn't wait for a response. Instead, he slips inside, limping footsteps and the click of his cane creating a rhythm heralding of his arrival should the knock not have been enough to draw Ardyn from his thoughts. When he finally sets eyes on the redhead, his concerned expression becomes worried instead. Ardyn always looks drawn and worn, much like Regis himself does, though for different reasons. Now, it's as if all of that has been magnified a thousandfold.]

Ardyn, when did you last sleep?

[Surely, it hasn't been a week has it?]

[ortum_aurorae]

She hadn't been allowed to return home even for summer holidays for years but surely the prince could be trusted to restrain himself even under her horrible influence now that he was a proper adult. Besides, her father was out of excuses to force her to stay in Altissia, now that her education was complete. She was free and Regis was 21, no longer the impressionable youth he'd been at 16.

Oh if only their fathers knew the conversations they'd had over the years. By mail and online during the slips in their precious "security" that ensured she wasn't allowed access to him that wasn't strictly monitored. Even now they weren't alone or anything outlandish but she was, by virtue of her lineage, expected to attend certain events. Now that she was back home in Insomnia she had to.

A wicked smile tugged at her lips across the broad rooftop deck of the Via when she first saw him. Striped and accented and refusing to wear naught but the somber black of his house. But she smoothed the expression quickly, merely arching a delicate brow in acknowledgement before she returned to her brothers' side. Surely they'd be in trouble if they made a bee line toward one another.

For now, at least, she'd content herself with eyeing him from afar, impressed with how he'd grown. The man he'd become only had hints of the boy she'd known and vibrant blue eyes track his movements appreciatively for a good hour or two before she finds her opportunity to discreetly visit the bar at the same time as him.

"It seems I must apologize. Here I've still been calling you Reggie all these years and you've certainly outgrown the nickname." Be still her beating heart. He's so much taller.

[kingkingcxiii]

Regis had never been the kind who angered easily--it's one of the few traits of his that his father actually approved of--but when he had heard that Aulea was being sent abroad for so long, he had been furious. At both of their fathers. As much they insisted that the future queen needed to have as broad an education as possible, it was obvious they were merely extending control over children who they would very soon not be able to control any longer. They were, after all, hitting that rather rebellious period of any child's life, though Aulea had hit it a few years before he had. Obviously, they would get into less trouble on separate continents.

Their parents always did underestimate them, whether they were together or apart.

Even now, Regis is enjoying one of his successful rebellions. He adjusts the cuff on his suit jacket knowing that the smile on his face as he remembers how he 'won' the right to wear it--dubbed his 'pimp suit' by many a disgruntled noble, including his father--will be taken by Lady Van De Igglewhateverworth as interest in her words. Considering the way her voice changes when his smile widens, she is watching his expression very closely. Just not close enough to realize that that widening was caused by nothing she said, and instead caused by the fact he's just caught sight of Aulea and her brother entering the hall.

If it wouldn't be considered the height of rudeness for him to walk away from someone mid-conversation, Regis wouldn't bother to check the steps his body wants to take in Aulea's direction. As it would be, he instead settles for keeping one eye on her as she moves through the crowd. It's not hard to do considering she all but glows like the most beautiful of stars. As soon as Lady Van De Igglebottom--it's 'bottom,' he's almost sure of it now--pauses to take a breath, he politely excuses himself from the conversation and makes his way toward the bar, hoping Aulea will do the same. When she does, his eyes are lit by his smile for the first time in a very long time.

Regis ignores the glass the bartender leaves for him, instead opting to take Aulea's hand in his own so he can press a kiss to the back of it.

"When one is addressed by a lady whose beauty rivals that of Shiva, one does not quibble about the name they are called."

Iggy and Gladio

[royalvessel]

[Noctis finally had a day off from his usually duties, which would have been great and all if all of his friends weren't busy themselves. Prompto was out of town, Gladio was in the training room, and Ignis was doing some extra paperwork.

It wasn't right. He was the prince and everyone else was doing all the work. And of course, in their typical fashion, they were far too busy to take a break to just relax for awhile.

Maybe Noctis had been watching too much porn, or maybe he just had questionable ideas when he was bored (it was definitely a mixture of the two), but he came up with an idea while staring at the contacts on his phone. He would send both Ignis and Gladio separate messages urging them to come to his apartment, and when they arrived, they would find him wearing only a pair of sweats looking oh-so enticing.

Then would come the seduction.

That part he wasn't totally sure about, but he figured he'd work it out on the fly. It couldn't be too hard, could it? Yeah, it might take some time for them to warm up to the idea, but he was sure he'd seen Gladio checking out his ass during training at least a few times, and Iggy, um, well. He'd figure it out.

The messages were innocuous enough. He didn't want to worry them, but he did want them to come over. Hey, I could use your help with something. Please come over now? Next came a quick shower and the removal of his shirt.

And time to wait for his plan to take effect.]

[piercetheheart]

*Now* now?

[Gladio had been training, definitely, and getting some decent practice in with some of the Kingsglaive, even.

And... making a fool of himself too, it seemed. A bit of playful flirting with one of the badass ladies that hung around the "Hero". He wasn't even sure of her name, Altus or something?

She had responded to his attempts to flirt by handing him his ass and lighting his practice sword on fire. So he was singed, flustered, and contemplating ducking out with his tail between his legs when he got the text from Noct anyway. He just had to give him shit about being so demanding first.

If Noct was going to be so insistent he'd just steal his shower later.

The only reason Gladio makes it there before Noct is the simple fact that Gladio has the good sense to own a motorcycle instead of needing to take one of the citadel's vehicles. It's as big and impressive as Gladio himself and Noct can probably hear the familiar rumble on the street well before Gladio's at his door, letting himself in and immediately shedding his jacket and gloves before the leather ends up any sweatier than it already is.]

This better be good, dude.

vaguely phanrift again

[burninglight]

[It was perhaps a month or so later that Ardyn sought Regis out--the prosthetic long since finished, leg brace long since improved, and things peacefully civil between them.]

[So perhaps it was a surprise for Regis to answer a knock on his door one evening and be met by Ardyn a safe distance back, head lowered in either shame or deference.]

...We...we need to talk.

[kingkingcxiii]

[The surprise is perhaps less than Ardyn imagines, focused mainly on the fact that is it this night that more memories finally have surfaced from the mess that is the redhead's mind. Regis has been expecting it ever since Ardyn remembered Aera, but tonight is the first night he's been alone in his room for several weeks, Nyx having gone off with Jake on another camping trip. He might have gone along with them had the recent damp weather not made even his much improved knee stiff. There is a joke to be had about things happening for a reason, but even making the joke internally seems wrong. Not with how much fate has controlled all of their lives.

There are any number of memories that may have brought Ardyn to his door, but as soon as Regis sees his posture and hears those subdued words, he knows exactly which memories they will be speaking of this night.]

Not like this we won't.

[He hums softly, holding back the urge to tip Ardyn's head up knowing right now, any motion toward the redhead will probably be taken as something much harsher than intended.]

Head up and lets sit. There is a perfectly wonderful fireplace that Nyx recently got for the room and I have been dying to try it out.

oops

[scourgingstars]

['Adagium' was the legend's name, the near-unspeakable evil that legend said served as the only prisoner of the Umbral Isle for generations and generations. Average subjects of the kingdom surely didn't even know the story at all, while those of the royal line knew only that there had been guard positions at Angelgard for as long as memory would stretch back. Most soldiers even treated it as a formality at best and outright punishment at worst, so miserably empty was the island.]

[Empty, until one of that very royal bloodline became too curious not to see for himself what was truly being guarded. Beyond seals that had faded, lingering magic just strong enough to keep something contained, and a heavily sealed stone door...was the prisoner himself. Hardly a daemon, barely anything more than a slender and half-conscious human with bright violet hair, strung up by chains as if on display as a warning to all others that might entertain committing whatever horrendous crime deserved exile for eternity.]

[At length did a voice break the silence, a near-whisper hoarse from not being used in gods only knew how long.]

...finally come to put an end to this...Somnus...?

[kingkingcxiii]

[Curiosity may have killed the cat, but a scholar makes a wise king. Whenever people commented on Regis asking too many questions or looking too deeply something they didn't approve of, that is what he would tell them. No one would want to be the one responsible for their future king not knowing something vital to future success, would they? Of course not.

Naturally, he was stringing them along, putting those diplomatic skills he'd been taught since childhood to work. If all it took was pretty words to sway them, he could hardly make himself feel bad for doing it. After all, they were trained from their childhoods as well.

This particular journey had taken more sweet talking than usual and not just because he was treading upon forbidden shores. This very act is questioning the traditions of ages; it could even be seen as an insult, a child demanding proof of stories that have been passed down through generations untold, unchanged and unchallenged.

Almost from the moment Regis' feet touch ground, he knows at least part of the stories must be true. He can feel the faded, but familiar, strains of magic all but littering the area, converging on the cell--or perhaps it is more fitting to call it a tomb--hidden behind a heavy stone door. The magic seems to recognize him, but it still takes effort to work it, so old it is. Even fading, it fights to do its job until dismissed by the will of one it dimly recognizes.

If the protections are expected, what the young prince finds within them is the most unexpected. There is no monster shrieking for blood and death like so many he and his friends have dispatched, but a man. Wore, wearied, strung up and left to hang like a puppet that some sadistic puppeteer had grown tired of playing with.

Regis almost misses the words the poor man speaks, so caught up as he is in just trying to accept what he is seeing. Once he realizes the man has spoken, he takes one careful step closer, shaking his head as he does.]

The Founder King has not walked Eos in a very long time. It seems his lies have walked longer than he did.

[And, oh is there a tone of disgust in Regis' voice. This? This is their monster? How?]

gently tries to shake dia awake for shiggles

[fionnuisce]

[On this afternoon in Generic Jamjar Town #2,374, things were peaceful. The sun was shining, birds were singing...]

[And a man in green was smoking like a chimney, one hand pressed to his head and the other leaning on an elegant black walking stick with a silver handle. Though it halfway looked like he was about to start pointing it at the sky accusingly, for how Proper Nettled he was.]

--can't do this at four in the afternoon on a Friday, save this shit for Monday morning, I have two goddamn days off a week and I don't want to deal with this absolute fucking nonsense!

[...So all in all, the day was less peaceful than it should have been. Particularly where it wasn't even Friday in this dimension.]

king dad the daddest king

[totalclarity]

[Ignis has always felt a fondness for King Regis that in some ways is inappropriate. Growing up, privileged, in the Citadel alongside Prince Noctis himself, even as his technical subordinate...allowed him to view Regis in a much more paternal way than anyone really got the chance to.

Not thoughts he'd ever truly want to speak aloud. His Majesty is not his father, nor even his guardian. And he would never presume that the fondness Regis has shown in return to be anything more than a mix of thankfulness for doing his job so well and that feeling older people get when they knew you as a child and could at any moment hold that over you, embarrassing stories included.

Despite all appearances to the contrary, Ignis does manage to get free time, once in a while. After a rousing (and by 'rousing', one means 'utterly mind-numbingly boring') meeting wherein he asked sparing questions and mostly took notes for Noct to review later, he finds himself with such a rarity as free time. What to do with himself...?

Get busy with something else, of course. There are other small deliveries to be made, notes, documents, reports, the like. The kind of thing he'd normally leave to the more subservient staff. But with very nearly free run of the Citadel, Ignis figures he might as well do it himself.

Which is how he comes across a book. A thick book with shiny pages, and it's clearly a photo album. His first thought is 'Prompto should see this', without even knowing what's inside. He shouldn't, not without asking, but it's just sitting there on a table so tempting, and it isn't as thought it's locked away or somewhere out of reach. It's how he ends up engrossed in photos from a decade ago, fifteen years, some even longer than that. Baby pictures, some figurative and some very literal. Noctis with his eternally messy flop of dark hair and angled eyes. And himself, all done up in the finest preppy outfits and sharpest little glasses, right alongside many of them. One with Clarus looking amused if exhausted as a small Noct held aloft for him to see something dirty and slimy, no doubt some frog he chased across the mud from the state of his clothes, and Ignis looking apologetic and equally dirty. One with himself and Noct in Regis' lap, one on each leg, the three of them in a comfortable nap.

He really ought to be keeping track of the time, or at least of his surroundings, but instead--here he is, engrossed in captured moments of the past.]

I am sorry this is so late! *headdesk*

[kingkingcxiii]

[If it is rare for Ignis to have free time, it is even rarer for Regis to have it, and yet, that is what has happened this afternoon. A meeting cancelled due to an ambassador's illness, and the insistence of Clarus and Cor that he not schedule anything to fill the now empty time has left him with the chance to do something rather mundane for once, something he's been wanting to do for months and just hasn't had the time to--rotate the pictures he has displayed in his study and put up new ones.

That is why the photo album is out to begin with, left on the table so that he may look through it when he manages to make his way there. Of course, he's not expecting to find someone else looking through it when he arrives, though seeing Ignis there does bring a smile to his face. He lets his cane connect just a little harder with the floor than usual to give himself away to the young man and then chuckles.]

The really embarrassing ones are kept elsewhere, so I'm afraid if your goal is to steal them away, you are doomed to failure.

[blindedbyloyalty]

[ It was almost a year after Noctis had gotten taken from them. The crystal had kidnapped Noctis and Ignis felt like he'd failed Noct in that regard. Knowing what he knows about Noctis' fate, he's determined to find a way to save him during his absence.

Ignis finds himself in Lestallum, the only safe haven for people during this time. It's gotten to the point to where he's shoulder to shoulder with people when he walks about.

It's rather frustrating to say the least when he can't see. Six, he doesn't regret his decision on using the ring to save Noct in Atlissia, but it robbed him of his eyesight. He'd always preferred his world to be crystal clear and it's a terrible price to pay.

Gladio's words hurt yes, but he'd understood where the shield was coming from, which made it hurt even worse. He doesn't want to feel like a burden and Gladio's causal comment of tossing him aside made him feel like that he can't help the ones that he loves. He couldn't fight in battles properly anymore then. Ignis is still relearning the ropes to it, using his sense of hearing to guide him, but he still has a long ways to go in that. Cooking, if given a familiar place, is quite easy if the recipes are simple enough, but the more complicated ones will take some time.

He frowns a little as he walks around the city, mumbling soft apologies. The light keeps the daemons at bay here, but it doesn't make a difference to Ignis, to him, everything is dark. His vision will never improve and that's something that he has to live with. However, he has no interest in leaving the city for now.

His ears pick up on a familiar voice just ahead. Gladio's. He lets out a sigh, after his outburst at Gladio in Cartanica, they had to put their differences aside and work together, but Ignis was never sure if the shield would just toss him aside regardless. Ever since the crystal took Noctis, the trio hadn't been meeting up as much, Noctis was the glue that held himself, Gladio and Prompto together as a team. Now that's gone, there was no point in hanging out as much.

Ignis sighs and makes his way towards the shield's voice. ]

Gladio. [ He stops when he thinks he's a safe distance away, arm folding across his chest, hand resting on his walking cane. ] It has been a while.

If you could spare a moment.

[cup_noodle]

[Ignis had not been the only person who had become abruptly familiar with the feeling of failure in Altissia. The very reason Gladio had been born was to protect Noctis. He should have been there. He should have kept them all from being hurt. Noctis. Ignis. Even Lady Lunafreya. Had he been able to do so? No. What was all this for if he couldn't do what he was born to do. The king had trusted him. Gilgamesh had recognized his skill and fallen to it. What had it been all for if he couldn't protect anyone?

By the time they had left Altissia, it was all Gladio could do to keep quiet. Noctis refused to move forward. Ignis was barely a shell of himself. Prompto was scrambling between the two like a lost puppy. How were they going to reclaim the crystal and Noctis' kingdom--their home--like this? Something had to change. Either that or this journey should have ended for them all at Altissia.

Something, of course, had changed and now here they were. Huddling under the lights and praying their fragile ray of hope could somehow out last the dark. How long would Noctis be gone for? Already a year has passed and most of Eos has died. What little that was left scrambled from second to second praying for deliverance that may never come.

What is it all fucking for? What if everything is dead and gone by the time Noctis returns? What if the darkness overruns them while he is away? What hope can a broken shield hold onto when he has already failed in so much? The duty is still there, and sometimes it is easiest just to lose himself in it. Gladio has no answers for the questions that plague him, but he can kill demons better than most and he can protect better than most.

For now, it will have to do.

When Ignis calls out to him, Gladio is just finishing giving some instructions to a Glaive who is carrying repair parts out the west sector of the city where a floodlight has been damaged. It is imperative they get that light up and running as soon as possible. Already people have been hurt driving back the increasing number of daemons. It's only a matter of time before someone is killed.]

Give me a second.

[The wave that accompanies that statement is automatic. Gladio only remembers partway through his next sentence to the Glaive that Ignis wouldn't be able to see it. He curses himself for being so stupid, but in the end, shows no outward sign of it. Once the Glaive has repeated his instructions once more and headed out, Gladio finally focuses his attention back at the blonde.]

Sorry. You know how important those lights are. Gotta get back out there as soon as I can, but the Marshal's gonna kick my ass if I don't eat first. You don't mind, do you?

Regis! Over here! Quick!

[runs_on_batteries]

Tony couldn't have described accurately what happened if he'd watched the scene like that replayed memory a few weeks ago over and over again. There had been a battle and some kind of magical being. There were gods involved and a magical stone. He flown and caught the stone for his goddess (never thought he'd say *that*) and the he'd immediately been sucked in to a vortex of spinning and electricity and he was screaming and... ow.

For a long moment he was dazed, not knowing when his suit receded. The floor beneath him was cracked and he groaned in pain. All he could see from this angle was a vaulted ceiling that he didn't recognize in the slightest.

[kingkingcxiii]

This is as close to quiet as Regis usually gets while in the throne room. Last issues addressed, last people met with, it is just him and a couple of the Kingsglaive watching from the shadows for threats as is their duty. Clarus, wonderful Shield that he is, has offered to take the paperwork back to his office for him. He just needs to wait for his friend's return, and then they will make the walk back to his quarters as they do every night. It is not necessary, but he knows Clarus rests easier when he knows Regis has gotten back to his room safely. Considering how much he has put his Shield through over the years, this is the least Regis can do for him.

Clarus has only been gone a few moments, though, when the silence is suddenly shattered by someone--something?--appearing from nowhere and cashing into the floor like a cannonball. Regis pulls himself to his feet quickly, startled when his high vantage point reveals that there is a man in the crater that has been left behind.

Already, he can see the Kingsglaive closing in and he raises a hand motioning for them to hold their positions. He is certain that makes them uneasy, but at the moment there is no threat. He would rather not set off hostilities unnecessarily.

He clears his throat, cane clicking against marble as he calls out, "Shall I call for a doctor or a mortician?"

slowly unearths

[scourgingstars]

[It had been difficult to leave Havenwell, and in all truth part of him didn't want to. But time marched on, for everyone but him. And time was the one advantage he had now.]

[In a period well before Noctis, before any calamity that might or could befall the Lucian capital...things were very quiet. Niflheim's attempts at conquest proved fruitless, their military might weak and tapering off even as the king of Lucis' health did much the same. Near the end of Mors Lucis Caelum's reign, the threat of invasion was so diminished as to be nothing but uncertain rumors and a military presence gradually retreating from Tenebrae. Whatever had caused the decline in their magitek and numbers was impossible to say--maybe they had simply lacked some necessary breakthrough.]

[By the time Regis assumed the throne, the most pressing threat to Lucis became the wandering monsters in the daylight and daemons under cover of darkness. As a result the Hunters took a more widespread role without threat of imperial bases or dropships--and a man claiming to be Tenebraean rapidly proved himself a force to be reckoned with even among his fellow hunters. Few if any could venture out at night to contend with the larger daemonic threats, fewer still alone and able to return seemingly unharmed. Fewer still than that who could so easily command a squadron to do the same when the daemons' numbers were too many for a lone hunter, as well as have everyone return alive. Rumor had it he was simply fearless, while some were convinced he was a Messenger. (Most called these people crazy, but the suspicion remained regardless.)]

[On a day when the King and Crownsguard came to Meldacio HQ for a rare but necessary visit--soldiers moving from one organization to the other, discussion of monster and daemon movements along with what faint Niflheim activity still existed, supply requests and exchanges--there would be a man in black to greet them, hat swept off his head as he ducked into a low bow sending a long violet ponytail cascading over his shoulder.]

Your Majesty, honored guests; permit me to bid you all welcome. Lady Ezma and her son had to see to some business in Lestallum, they send their sincerest apologies. In their absence, I fear I find myself in charge today.

[He straightened back up, gold eyes focusing on Regis with a brief sharp focus before he broke out into a kind, cordial smile.]

Ardyn Sidereus--you may simply call me Ardyn, if you please. I am entirely at your service.

['Of the stars'--not just for his own true name, but as a small reminder of Honerva as well. It was certainly better than answering to another alias he might have used in a different and distant future.]

Uggg, it's unfair how good Ardyn looks in what is basically a modified Kingsglaive outfit!

[kingkingcxiii]

[Up to the very moment Regis had clasped his hand around the shell necklace he was wearing and stepped through that final gateway home, he was making plans. What was the first step to take in order to use what he had learned in Havenwell to make sure that the future he was told was set in stone, never happened? Who did he need to talk to first once he got back? What information needed to be gathered?

He had plans--so many plans--and all of them fell apart as soon as he stepped back into his office at the Citadel and found that the world was not how he had left it. Indeed, he stood alone in his office taking in the odd quietness for what seemed like forever before someone knocked softly and entered the room. Regis was unsurprised to see if was Clarus, but not Clarus as he remembered his Shield from the last time he saw him. This Clarus looked younger, less haggard and worn. He no longer looked like a man who was aging just as fast as Regis has been merely because of the worry and pain he carried on his shoulders.

It was, in hindsight, no surprise that Clarus realized something was wrong right away. Perhaps, it was the bits of gray in his king's hair that had not been there before. Perhaps, it was just the uncertain look on his friend's face, or the soft voice with which he asked him to cancel the rest of his meetings for the day and bring Cor back to the office. Thus started a very difficult conversation that Regis had known was coming, but was in most ways completely different than he had planned. Fortunately, his links to them, the Crystal, and his ability to wear the Ring of the Lucii all helped to prove his identity. Besides, no one else knew him better. The only other who knew him so well had passed from the world many years before.

Who knew the whole world could change and yet some things would still stay the very same?

It was during a quiet moment while visiting Aulea's tomb after finally sorting out as much as he could about the state of the world that Regis started to wonder exactly how it had all happened. He had spent most of his time in Havenwell as one of the ones farthest back in the timeline. It was something that he hoped would give him a greater chance to make a difference in the world, yet he had returned to a world already changed. Who could be responsible? Noctis, the boys, Lunafreya, Nyx, and even Cor had all come from after his time. The only ones who came from before were Verstael, Aera, and Ardyn. Honestly, it took him little time to dismiss the first two which left only Ardyn behind. Considering he had been the main force behind destroying Lucis and Eos, it only made sense that an Ardyn without madness and hate darkening his vision could be the one saving it.

What did this mean for Noctis' fate in the future? Regis wasn't sure on that. He knew his son still bore the title of the Chosen King and that daemons still roamed the night even if they were greatly diminished in numbers. That meant the scourge still plagued their Star, and by extension, Ardyn. A final reckoning would still be due, but it was one they were going to have more control over now since war and overwhelming darkness was not bearing down on them and tearing them apart. Nothing could be planned, though, without finding Ardyn first, and wasn't that the problem? Regis had no idea how to find him since the role the redhead would have been filling now--one Chancellor Ardyn Izunia--did not exist, and a thorough search of Angelgard proved that the tomb where Ardyn had been imprisoned for so long was indeed empty.

Perhaps, Regis should have been more worried that he couldn't track Ardyn down, but deep down he knew that when the redhead was ready to reveal himself to him, he would do so. Of course, he in no way expected that reveal to come during what had become a routine meeting with the Hunters at their Meldacio Headquarters.

With Cor and Clarus at his back, Regis returns the bow with a slight tilt of his own head. A small smile curls the corners of his mouth, but his surprise and amusement cause his eyes to twinkle in a way Ardyn should remember well from their time in Havenwell.]

Ardyn, is it? You will have to send my thanks to both to Lady Ezma and her son once they return. It is so nice to have a face and name to go with all the stories that have been making their way to the capital.

[And, quite honestly, those very stories should have given it away, but Regis had been looking farther away from home in his searches for Ardyn. He never would have guessed the man had been right under his nose the whole time.]