ardyn izunia belongs in the garbage bin. (
daemonized) wrote2017-01-23 02:25 pm
RECOLLE IC CONTACT.
ARDYN IZUNIA
Ardyn Izunia. Professor of law. Lord of law. Liege of law. The one grading your papers. Leave a message.
VOICE | TEXT | VIDEO | ACTION

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[having a dumb moment, because ardyn did just use his teacher voice--and prompto feels both foolish and embarrassed. don't recognise his clothes as an issue!!]
[this only means that he leaves the ones he had picked off to the side, stops searching for a kettle, and makes his way to get his desk chair to sit himself by the kitchen counter]
Thank you, sir.
[immediately he's shifting and keeping his hands over the side of his front.]
...did Noct show up at all?
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He did. And he only almost fell asleep this time.
[Aha. The kettle. He takes it out and closes the cupboard door, straightening to his feet. He moves to the sink to fill it up with water.]
Imagine that.
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Noct's pretty smart. He just... doesn't wanna do things.
[insert tragic au backstory]
[nah, let's not excuse the shitlord]
...glad he showed though. [nods to himself; he can't control what his friend does, but he wants noctis to excel, always.] Was that your only class of the day?
[sure is talkative still though]
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Yes. He's actually quite intelligent. He's just lazy.
[Which is basically what Prompto just said, just harsher. It perhaps might not be fair, given that Ardyn does not know of this tragic au backstory or whatever, but-- well. He's always been a little tougher on Noct, a little more critical. He wants to see the boy succeed, and if there's a nagging something there that makes Ardyn want to pick on him more than the rest of his class, he usually does keep it withheld. Usually.
When it does rear its ugly head, it's only out of frustration because he knows Noctis can do well if he only bloody applied himself.]
That's right, just the one lecture. [He moves to the plastic bag now, unearthing a box of the ginger tea.] I'm as free as a bird, at least until I return to my gilded cage of grading when I'm back home. Where do you keep your mugs, Prompto?
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[he has three cups! all from a matching set. college life, mothertrucker.]
[on the one hand, prompto is a bit sad he missed today's lecture. he learns quite a bit, even if he's basically sneaking in for free. the metaphor--or however ardyn tried to dramatise his life (lol)--makes prompto smile.]
Ah, so this is like a welcome rest for you! I was already thinking maybe I kinda forced you to come. Would've been awkward. --did you come by foot?
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Still, he grabs one, then readies one of the tea bags inside the mug. The kettle is still simmering for now. He laughs lightly.]
You didn't coerce me. [Definition time!] You didn't threaten me, or intimidate me, to act in an involuntary manner. No, I offered to bring you your tea, and so here I am. And I drove. It was easier that way, since I had to stop by the the store first.
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[he feels like he owes ardyn big time]
Uh...
[he's quite obviously not used to adults pulling nice stunts on him]
I mean, thank you. I'm sure this'll help me out for a while.
[he peers over the counter, his eyes scanning over the surface, like he wants to not be overtly obvious of his self-inflicted embarrassment.]
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You're welcome. [And his response is plain.
The kettle begins to whistle, lightly at first. Then it crescendos, prompting Ardyn to remove it from its burner. He flips off the stove.]
Tell me if I'm prying, Prompto, but might I ask what's the issue with your stomach?
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[so he just... quietly groans and leans back on the chair, hesitating before answering, his biggest sin...]
Well, you see, the thing is...
[stalling...]
I'm, uh, what some would call lactose intolerant...
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All this because you... drank a glass of milk? Hm?
[He's not trying to tease, really. (Maybe.) But at least it's clear he doesn't sound particularly disapproving, one way or another.]
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[he knows he did a foolish thing, but sometimes he's a foolish guy who forgets that he doesn't actually have extra capsules of his medicine elsewhere. sure, he had taken two capsules before he ate pizza last night.]
[but his breakfast...]
[he suffers for being all over the place sometimes.]
...and breakfast.
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Prompto...
[He picks up the mug when he's done, and puts the kettle back on the stove to let it cool. Then Ardyn finally makes his way to where the young man is seated, offering him the tea.]
So you're telling me that your mortal enemy was nothing more than an entire pizza? You should be more mindful.
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[nope]
When you say it that way it does sound kinda stupid.
[kinda. he's giving himself the benefit of the doubt!]
It was just so hard to resist... [takes a short sip, testing how hot it is]
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Then think of how you're feeling now, the next time you hear the siren song of a pizza. You don't want to spend more time than necessary bowing down to the porcelain god, do you?
[He hums in amusement at his own words.]
How's the tea? Careful not to burn your tongue.
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[who in their right mind is really awake for breakfast time? --best not to ask that outloud, prompto knows he's rightfully in the wrong here.]
[now, he takes another sip of his tea, a more meaningful one, tasting the ginger in his tongue, as ardyn takes a seat across from him. prompto pulls his feet under his chair, linked at the ankles, a practiced motion. the tea's hot, but he can handle it. does end up making a face at the slightly spicy flavour. (okay, he totally burnt his tongue a bit.)]
It's--alright. Never had ginger tea before though. [he stares at the liquid, then back at ardyn] I'll make sure I have my medicine next time before I decide to voluntarily eat something that'll make me sick. Thank you, sir.
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"Alright". Alright is just a polite way of saying you're not sure if you like it. I can hardly blame you; ginger is something of an acquired taste for some.
And you can thank me by being more careful next time. Nothing more, nothing less.
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[sure is nice not to have to pay for the law lectures]
I'll take your word for it.
[another gulp of tea, face and all; maybe it isn't an instant fix, but it seems like he's feeling less nauseous, at least.]
[(prompto's curious)]
You don't have kids, do you, sir?
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The question derails this train of thought, however.]
Kids? [lord no.] No, I can't say that I do.
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[it does help a bit! and it shows, if by means of prompto's growing levels of energy]
Yeah, you don't seem the type. [whatever that means] Ah, but not in a bad way! Swear I don't mean it like that!
[knows he'll have to clarify]
More like, you're surprisingly good at looking after others.
[if this were anyone else, they'd be embarrassed after saying that. since this is... prompto...well]
laughing at all the irony in this thread
I'm not a cold-hearted man, unlike what some of my students might believe. [He's a tough grader, and expects a lot from his class, but the real Ardyn Izunia also can empathize when it's required of him. Sometimes even when it's not.]
There's a fine balance when it comes to strictness versus understanding. Vacillating between the two of them, without leaning too much on one or the other, is something of an art. The best sort of teachers learn that as quickly as they can.
chinhands at everything
Maybe I'm being subjective because you don't really assess my work. [prompto does count his blessing; he ain't not fool] Though, at the same time, it's quite nice to know we have these kind of teachers in our university.
[quality, he means]
It'd suck if our teachers didn't care...
gets mood whiplash from one thread to the other
[He's joking, though. (Isn't he?)]
Or, I suppose, give you more music essays to write. You did well enough with the first one, as hastily done as it was.
Re: gets mood whiplash from one thread to the other
If y'think about it maybe I'm aiming to impress because I don't get the experience of being in your class...?
[he will be taking no chances on finding out if ardyn is joking or not]
I do better under pressure, but... I don't think I can have the time to spare on pretending-to-be-in-classes essays... [he spends no time in trying to make that delicate-sounding at all] But having music essays is cool! Oh, I have tons of old vinyl disks I've found at flea markets over the years.
[if you think you can stop him from getting up and making his way just around the wall and into his bedroom, you're sorely mistaken]
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I'm joking, Prompto. I won't truly subject a student to the horrors of law, unless they've taken it upon themselves to actually sign up for my classes.
[But he allows the transition to the subject of music, regardless.]
Do you-
[But. There goes Prompto, getting up and wandering into his bedroom. Okay, then.]
You really should sit down. [-he calls out, fruitlessly.]
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[he calls out, sips on his tea again, and there's the shuffle of some books falling off a shelf. it's fine, as he returns a few short moments later with three vinyl records in their covers. pink floyd's the dark side of the moon, miles davis' kind of blue, and (of course, prompto will say) the beatles' abbey road.]
[he presents them over then settles back on his chair]
These are my favourite. I go to the music shop to listen to them. --I'll get a record player soon enough, but it's so different to hear it from vinyl than MP3 format.
[tea..sip...expectant..]
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