daemonized | open rp post;

[ It's been nearly two years.

Two years since Noctis had moved to this strange place. Two years since he'd decided to leave the comfort of his home in favor of being independent and hopefully finding some sort of confidence to take over Caelum Security. Where Noctis had sought to live out his early twenties the right way, Noctis had discovered rather quickly that something is...Off about his life.

Prompto's referred to them as memories. He's not sure if he's comfortable with that word, especially when it comes to what he's seen. Images of a nameless girl with a soft voice; it feels like a warm bath when she speaks. Often times he's allowed himself to be submerged in it, finding comfort when she speaks of gods. When she calls him the Chosen King, it always stops there, he finds confidence but fear.

Then he drowns with her.

Then someone kills her.

His first "dream", he had killed her first. It made no sense, but murmurs akin to his father's voice in a faraway room tell him it's not right.

Then Ardyn kills her. And that dream always feels so goddamn real, where he's incapable of movement and watches it from afar. He doesn't get it. He never has. And while he's heard whispering claiming some sort of calling, it makes no sense. He's been here nearly two years and all he has to show for it is a stubborn yet surprising illness, weapons of no origin that appear from nowhere (that he can hardly use), and a million questions about what he is.

What bothers him the most is that Ardyn haunts his nightmares. Often. Going to class is a struggle, because he's stopped being able to focus. Their closeness has experienced a rift, and he doesn't call anymore. Doesn't stay after, because he gets this feeling in his gut that makes no sense.

Why he stayed behind this time is beyond him. But his grades have been failing, and this conversation was coming. Noctis stays at his desk, staring at his textbook because he hopes maybe if he waits around long enough, Ardyn will simply berate him for his laziness and he can just pick up and go. ]

[It's hard to tell if anything's changed with Ardyn recently. He shows up for his lectures, of course, just like before. He's theatrical and eccentric as always, he's informative and strict with his students -- to the random passerby, perhaps nothing's changed at all.

And yet, sometimes a patronizing smile lingers a moment too long. Sometimes there's something sharp in his gaze, sometimes he laughs to himself at a joke that no one else knows, something ironic and almost bitter. Something jaded, poignant in its tiredness. His eyes (a bright gold now, thanks to Retrospec) always betray that there's something always churning in his mind, unseen and intangible. He'll not say what it is, except only to those closest to him. Once upon a time, Noctis might've slotted into that category; these days, Ardyn seems to have pulled away from their usual banter and familiarity. It still exists, but mangled with tension that no one can quite understand.

That no one will quite say why it's that way.

Ardyn is shuffling a paper or two from behind the lecturn. He's not even looking at Noctis, but the boy's presence burns brightly in his periphery. A moment or two of silence passes, weighty, before he speaks. His voice seems to slice through the quiet with abandon.]

Feeling guilty about your performance in class, Noctis? If you want to speak to me about it, you only need say something.

[ Over the course of time, Noctis has become less withdrawn. More capable of spending time with others, feeling a bit more independent by the day. So it makes the sudden change between himself and Ardyn all the more unsettling. He'd gotten to a point of seeing Ardyn as a father-figure, almost excited to learn that they were actually related if... The memories are correct. But the more that flood in, the less he enjoys that fact.

Ardyn's started to make him uneasy. There's something wrong with the way he looks at him. This time is a prime example, colored with a tone that makes his stomach tighten.

He looks up to Ardyn at the question, pained because he can't get the visual of him killing that woman in front of him in his dreams. Over and over. Feeling that same sinking feeling as he has in dreams where he's chased Ardyn through miles of train cabins. ]

Just haven't been feeling well.

[ Not the best excuse. ]

[Ardyn purposefully makes himself difficult to read. Where he had been eager to share moments of sincerity with Noctis before (most especially after he found out that they were -- had been -- related, somehow), he's made a sizable effort to scale that back. He doesn't ever share why, because he simply hasn't sorted it all in his head yet, either. It's far easier to deal with Noctis at an arms-length. Student only, until he knows how to parse the memories that plague him -- thought and feelings of the darkness, of daemons, of a betrayal that ran deep. The holes in the narrative that still plagued him, questions that he wanted answered immediately, but was simultaneously afraid to face.

So, the answer of just haven't been feeling well, so obviously a lie, is one that he should let slide. He wants to ignore his obligation to pry just a bit further, to ensure that there's nothing wrong with this student but-

Something causes him to lift his gaze to Noctis, brow arched high. Something nagging claws at his insides, and this is what makes him speak, not some wayward sense of professional obligation.]

That's a sorry excuse.

[He chuckles.]

Tell me the truth, instead.

[Done with sorting whatever he had been doing, he walks towards where Noctis is seated.]

Something's obviously bothering you.

[ Instinct is not something that Noctis ever recalled having much of. His condition over the years has left him pretty vulnerable, and so he's mostly the quiet type to stay at home. Over time? These... Dreams have suggested so much more. Visions of disappearing in a flash of blue, gripping hold of a blade that could cut through stone, all while tugging at his energy where's he wakes up exhausted.

He hadn't had it before, but he feels a similar sense of danger as he had in his dreams. Pale fingers grip at his text book and glow a hot white when Ardyn closes some distance between them. He doesn't get it. It horrified him, and there's just something about his eyes and the way Ardyn looks at him that threatens to blind him.

Still, he sits. ]

Well, the laughing, for one.

[ That's not the reason. ]

You asked me to stay behind because of my grades. Is that what we're talking about or can I go?

[His grin stays on his face, unwavering, even in the face of the comment regarding laughter. He finds himself laughing more when he shouldn't, these days. As if it's an old habit that he didn't know he had; one he wasn't sure how to break, or was even sure he wanted to break.]

It's true. You're sitting here now because of your grades, and their sorry decline. I know you're capable of so much more.

[He always had been, hadn't he? Bursting with potential, even if he was hesitant to embrace it. Just like the Noctis in that other life. He remembers that much.]

So I want to know what's causing it. I know there's something there.

[Something twisting itself within the boy, much like something writhes within him. Ardyn is smart enough to infer that if he's getting memories of this world called Eos, this past life of theirs, then Noctis must be as well. Look at the boy. He looks almost scared to glance up at him now.

He's remembered something. Ardyn has a right to know what it is.]

You've recalled something, haven't you. [Phrased like a question, but it isn't.]

[ Ardyn has always had a dramatic way of speaking. Often times, Noctis wondered if Ardyn would better serve as a drama professor, were if not for his wit with the law. He's into grand ways of lecturing, having a knack for the turns of phrase and clever dialogue amongst students. Where it was once entertaining and the source of Noctis' jokes at Ardyn's expense, now it just... Bothers him. Makes him uncomfortable.

Something just doesn't add up.

Noctis starts to feel sick. He cares about this grandstanding asshole. He's supposedly a relative. He's spent more time with Ardyn than he has his own father, so of course these feelings bother him to no end. But he can't shake that girl from his mind, and he can't shake the way Ardyn looks at him now the same way he has in his dreams.

He can't deny that they're memories anymore. Knowing Prompto's point of view and how suspiciously matching it is? There's no running away from this.

"You've recalled something, haven't you."

Noctis' expression of shock is easy to pick out from someone who knows him so well. It's lazily executed, merely pointed out by the slightest widening of his blue eyes. The softest squeak whispers as his fingers continue to clench at the slick cover of his hard-cover text book.

What the fuck does Ardyn know? Why does he sound as if he knows what he's recalled? ]

You tell me.

[ Noctis slowly starts to stand up from his seat, hands clenched at his sides. ]

Because if we're on the same page, we have a problem.

[Ardyn knows Noctis well enough at this point to consider that quite the reaction. He's pressed a button, without really meaning to. He had only been prying, but this means that he's on the right track. He doesn't regret instigating something close to confused anger in the boy.

(He's sure he doesn't. If that's guilt he feels, it's pushed aside; he's already begun this conversation, there's no going back now.)

Ardyn stands straight, stands tall. He's an imposing man at a height of almost 6'3", even more so when he hardly seems affected by the tumultuous emotions of others. Annoyingly stubborn in the face of a storm that threatens to swirl and spill over at the edges.

He has the audacity to tilt his head in faux curiosity.]

I remember you. [An arm extends, a finger poking Noctis squarely in the chest.] You know that. And I remember certain details about you that you may not. Details about our so-called, happy little family dynasty. But it wasn't enough for me to tell you, not just yet.

[A lie. It was quite a revelation, but Ardyn just wasn't ready to talk about it. It all felt too raw still.

He drops his hand.] But whatever you've remembered recently, my, it has you riled up. I want to know. We're connected, in a way, and so naturally it must be relevant to myself as well.

[ Family dynasty...

Noctis feels a twist in his gut as Ardyn prods at his chest. He grits his teeth, bearing the slightest curl of his lip to represent a quiet snarl. That sounds like a threat, the way he claims to recall him. And Noctis takes a step back. His instincts tell him to fight, some surge of energy that he's not used to in his sickly form. He's felt worse off and on, but now? Now, something is encouraging him to push forward. And even with the tension in the air, he can breathe better.

A message that goes ignored.

Noctis is aware that he's a future king. A prince with a deceased father and an empty throne. That's about the extent of his knowledge, minus some bits and pieces about an oncoming darkness he doesn't understand the source of. Daemons and machines that chase him in his dreams. Talking about it stresses him out, and Ardyn seems keen on focusing on the worst parts.

Noctis' hand tingles. He's not sure why, and he ignores it for now. ]

You sound pretty thrilled, like you know what it is.

[ Fine. Let's see what he knows. Noctis takes another step back. ]

There's a girl.

Who is she?

[Ardyn doesn't step any closer. He's not in the mood to make himself seem like a predator cornering his prey, though something almost compels him to do so. But this strange compulsion is derailed by his student's mention of a girl. His mind churns, sifting back through the memories he's neatly tried to file away ever since they became a part of his life. He's tried to organize them by time and place, by emotion (ranging from happiness to sorrow to hate to bitter resignation to being so, so tired) but sometimes they mingle with each other, melding and swirling together, as if made of quicksilver. It's frustrating, those holes in the narrative disrupting the flow of the whole piece. He wishes, sometimes, that they would just all come to him in a crushing wave of memory and recognition. At least then he'd know.

He mentally searches for a girl -- a girl important enough to have meant something to Noctis, maybe. A face prominent enough to shine bright in both of their memories. Nothing rises, only a blank space where he feels something should be recalled with ease.

It's frustrating.]

A girl. [-he echoes, obviously displeased with the lack of information.] I don't know of a girl.

You'll have to explain further.

[Do it, Noctis. Help him remember.]

[ So they're not on the same page.

Noctis feels a very slight, extremely weak glimmer of hope. Hope that he's just having these tormenting nightmares because that's just the story of his life. That this "past" Prompto brings up so much is not as bad as his own mind is making it out to be. That's Ardyn is only acting weird because he's perceiving it in a way that blows shit out of proportion and everything is okay.

That hope is not strong enough to comfort him. Something tells him he's just not recalling the same things yet. And it makes this situation far worse than it already was. Simply in knowing he has to out and say it because it feels real. ]

I don't...

[ He doesn't want to tell him this. But the part that's attached forces him. Noctis sharply inhales through his nose, turning his gaze away from Ardyn. ]

I don't know anything about her. Just that I've seen her in nearly every single... "Memory" that's popped up.

There's water. Some... Gigantic sea snake or something. We get thrown apart.

[ His lips purse. Please just let him be crazy. ]

And the last thing I see before everything goes black is you stabbing her.

[Ardyn listens in silence as Noctis speaks. His mind latches onto every word, letting it sink in, turning it over in his head again and again, seeing if anything will trigger.

No memory flashes before him, not just yet. Water, a giant sea snake. And-- the idea of him being the one to have stabbed this girl. His frown deepens at that, though it's telling the way he doesn't seem to show a more poignant reaction than that.

(Would he have done that? He assesses the state of himself, in his memories. If he asks himself, would he have injured a girl in such a way, the answer comes quickly. Was it advantageous for him to do so? Then yes.

He would have.)

And yet... despite everything, in a wave of laughable defiance, Ardyn shakes his head.]

No. I didn't do that. I don't remember-

[And then it hits him, he words cut short, his body freezing in place.

He remembers a creature, a giant sea snake like Noctis had described, its rage tearing across a city. A storm of anger and a literal tidal wave, every writhing movement heralding destruction. Enough to inspire the greatest degree of fear in anyone, and yet he felt none of it.

He remembers Noctis there, at a distance. Back on the ground, sorely tired and defeated. Looking at him with eyes burning in anger.

He remembers... a girl. Dressed in white from head to toe, until he slipped a blade into her, staining it with red. He had smiled, then, as she looked at him. Eyes widening with shock, but there was something else there.

Pity.

"When the prophecy is fulfilled, all in thrall to darkness shall know peace."

A flash of something terrible. That sorrow again, and anger.

"How sweet... But please, Lady Lunafreya. You first.

A name to go with the face.]

Lady Lunafreya... [His breath is barely above a whisper, his eyes still faraway.]

[Until they snap back to Noctis, a brief moment of uncertainty flickering through him. He smothers it, quickly, with an expression that twists into a grin.]

Oh, I remember now.

[And Ardyn Izunia, he laughs. He laughs in a farce of bitter humor, though none of it is truly felt. He wished for this, didn't he? For the truth to be dumped in his lap, unceremoniously, open and raw. Terrible thing that it was, but it fit in so nicely with everything else he had felt up until now that he had no choice but to accept it as real.

One more piece of this dreadful puzzle. One more layer of hate to add to what already felt like a burden, slowly but steadily crushing him beneath its heel. It's a dizzying revelation, and Ardyn can't help but lean forward, palm on the corner of Noctis' desk, leaning into it. That laughter of his spills forth again, unbidden. He somehow manages, between the amusement that feels hollow:]

You're right, Noctis. I did kill her. I left her there to die.

[ No reassurance. No coddling. No comfort. What little hope that lay between them seems instantaneously smothered in the waters that he so often dreams of.

Noctis searches Ardyn's expression as he seeks the memory. It almost feels like an eternity until that curious gaze twists into something dark, disgusting, and proud. Who the hell is this man, and what parts of him were actually genuine? Ardyn starts to cackle and those eyes glimmer in such a devious manner that he no longer recognizes this man who'd taught him so much. Who had shown concern for his condition, who Prompto seems to adore so much.

His hand is tingling so hard, it's as if it's asleep. But he keeps his focus elsewhere. Noctis feels something in his chest shatter and burn when he brags of leaving-- ]

Lunafr--

[ He finds difficulty pronouncing her name. It would be embarrassing, were if not for the way his head starts to pang. It's a vision he gets often. Those white walls, warm and inviting sunlight shining through large windows. Blue flowers.

"My prayers have been answered, my calling fulfilled..."

"The stars shine for you, Noctis--"

Her voice is so sweet. He remembers her smile. He remembers her hair rushing forward as she pushes him down the hallway in his wheelchair. The smell of blossoms amidst a flowing field that is suddenly submerged in warm waters. The same that he swims through in his dreams.

The same that she reaches for him in. The same that runs red. ]

Who the hell are you?

[ Noctis sharply inhales, suddenly feeling this surge of anger because he cared for her. He remembers pain, devotion, attachment for a childhood friend who is ripped away by the rush of a blade. As he clenches his hand, he doesn't realize that the form of a blade has quickly materialized in his hand. Glimmers of white light surrounding him if only briefly, rotations of nothing but diamonds, the visual of emptiness with promise.

Something calls to him, directs his attention at what's appeared there. Anger boils in his stomach and a surge of strength eggs him on. As his eyes gaze widely upon the weapon, it's clear that this is a message. Ardyn is not who he thought he was, and he doesn't have time to focus on this sudden change.

So Noctis starts to step forward. ]

Edited 2017-07-07 21:33 (UTC)

[He feels a familiar twinge in the air, as if pressure itself is twisting around Noctis' hand. It's accompanied by the telltale glow of light (blue, his is blue) and the sound of something like crystal shattering into existence. Ardyn needs only to lift his gaze up slightly, peering through strands of red hair, to see the light reflecting off of a sword's blade flashing in his vision.

His laugh may fade, but his grin sharpens. He straightens again, eying the sword. He hadn't realized Noctis knew how to summon a blade out of thin air.]

I told you. We're family.

[His voice, it's taken on that edge of patronization now. He knows his gives an answer that is both satisfactory and yet ironically very close to the reason why he had acted the way he did -- he's sure of it. There was a lot of baggage that came with the revelation of being not Ardyn Izunia, but Ardyn Lucis Caelum, a while after the initial epiphany of being related by blood in some world far away. He had kept most of it, if not all, to himself. To be shared with others close to him, maybe, in varying degrees of detail. But to those from Eos, as well? There were obvious reasons why he would not.

(Because it was awkward, because he felt guilty, because he didn't know how to deal with what he was seeing and feeling. It was safer, better, to remain at a distance. To let close relationships idle and fall apart, slowly, so that he could give himself time to think.)

Now, though? If Noctis is brandishing a sword at him, why should he play coy anymore? Ardyn extends his arms outward, as if inviting the young man to strike at him.]

What are you going to do with that, Noctis? Attack me? [He's wheedling him. Daring him, almost.]

[ It's not the first time this blade had appeared in his hand, but it's as if it came about purely upon reflex this time. Noctis realizes what's materialized, and his gaze shifts to it quickly to his own surprise. As if his body works purely upon instinct, which is extremely confusing in the grand scheme of things. Noctis can count on one hand how many time's he's even sparred.

His experience is minimal, but something about this feels natural. The way his blade swings to the side in a preliminary gesture, the way his eyes narrow upon Ardyn as if he's done this before.

All of that is wrong. All of this is wrong.

Noctis feels his innards twist and churn the more that Ardyn speaks because it's terrifying. Because he's never heard Ardyn speak in such a venomous tone and that's not the man he'd come to look up to. Having learned they were blood was oddly comforting. Now it's horrifying, because he has a feeling a man of Ardyn's demeanor and aura wouldn't be allowed to remain close to a royal family.

Whatever shred of confidence he has brings Noctis another step forward. That anger comes to a boil, and it's a feeling that he is both afraid of and dependent upon. While Noctis has no true recollection of who Lunafreya was, there's a quality about her. An attachment he'd developed simply because she visits his dreams almost every night. Both haunting and comforting him. She's a message that he can't hear, a source of light on whatever darkness shrouds his past and he is sure she is a large part of who he is.

So knowing Ardyn killed her is enough to spark distrust and threat. Noctis literally has no idea what he is doing, but Ardyn is dangerous and he suddenly feels a sense of responsibility here. ]

What are you?

[ The little passive remark about being "family" doesn't cut it. Noctis' voice is gravely and low, threatening as blue eyes peer through narrowed lids. He takes another step forward, free hand reaching to meet the other upon his blade. Noctis is hesitant, but persistent, not quite answering Ardyn's question. ]

[What is he. The question makes something falter in his smile, a ripple of a shadow across his features. What was he indeed, what had he become, with that darkness gnawing at his insides. What was left of his humanity, after it was stretched thin and meager through time, worn thin and weak -- what did it leave? A man who had become so tired and a shell of his former self. That healer from long ago was someone else completely, twisted into, what? What?

He remembers what he had said, a flash of an old memory still riddled with holes. Part of his revelation that he didn't share, one singular word that stood out so harshly in his mind.

"But a jealous king, one not yet chosen by the Crystal, ostracized and demonized this healer of the people. Making a true monster of him."

Yes, that's right.]

What I was always meant to become.

[The fingers of his right hand flex, and light shatters around it like glass, reflecting red. His own sword appears in his hand, an ancient-looking thing, and he brandishes it against Noctis. He knows that trick too; he learned it long ago, back when all of this Retrospec nonsense had been nothing more than confusion and questioning. His memories of how to fight, flooding back to him so quickly that it made his head spin -- now, he wears these inherited abilities with ease. They fit him, like a well-worn glove.]

The dark to your light. You don't remember, do you? The perpetual night?

[ Fuck, fuck, fuck. Noctis has no idea what he's doing, and having this renewed sense of instinct is completely beyond his comprehension. His knuckles are white with a vice-like grip along the hilt of his blade, watching with narrowing eyes when Ardyn raises his arm.

The problem here is... He hadn't called the blade. Not intentionally, at least, and his memory is so muddy and thick with fog that barely any of this makes sense. Ardyn seems to work as though he's waited for this, fearless and without remorse for what he'd done. But why? He tries to think, to piece the puzzle together. There was a throne, a murdered king, and a missing Crystal. He's heard that damn word so many times, he can never hear it without getting that sinking feeling in his gut.

He'd been... Chosen by the Crystal, right? Chosen as the King of...

Ardyn says it. Light. Perpetual night. Noctis can barely breathe when he tries to register everything all while preparing to make a really dumb move in fighting with actual weapons this time. Not with foam props, and not with protective gear. Something about the words "perpetual night" reminds him of the dream he'd had of watching dark clouds rolling over the skies from a moving train. But he'd never...]

Well since you know so much, why don't you enlighten me?

[ It's a standoff so far. Noctis initiates that much as he slowly starts to walk away from his desk, closer towards Ardyn's lectern. His side-steps are cautious. ]

[His own weapon feels familiar in his hand, fingers taught around its hilt. There's something in Noctis he senses, despite the grandstanding; a hesitation of sorts, betrayed by the way the young man simply hasn't attacked him yet. Was the revelation of him truly being the one who killed the girl named Lunafreya not enough? Did Noctis still require truth after painful truth dumped into his lap, to spark his ire further?

Is that what Ardyn really wanted? (No, screams a part of him, tethered still to this life he leads. Friends, family, people who had grown close to him over the years. Noctis once was (is still??) one of them.

Yes, rages the rest of him, churning with that secondhand bitterness, writhing with the inability to know what to do with the images upon images forced into his head. The part of him that says it's just easier to be this way, he had been this way for so long a lifetime ago, what was the point in trying to be anything else other than the Usurper himself?)

Nothing has had time to reconcile itself. The two sides clash and tear into each other, unsettling him further. Irritating him, unravelling him, and suddenly all Ardyn wants Noctis to do is to attack him. He doesn't want to think about it any more.]

Let me do you the honor of trying to help you remember.

[The words are like acid, they're like he wave of a storm crashing against itself, and in a sudden movement, Ardyn lunges forward with surprising speed, swinging his blade at Noctis.]

[ Their choice of battlefield is hardly ideal. To Noctis' recollection, he still had little to no experience in combat, even if his past appears to contradict the assumption. But he knows this is a poor choice, both because of his experience and where they are. Long rows of desks leave little room to move around, and he doesn't have time to asses anything, really. Especially not when Ardyn lunges for him.

Noctis grits his teeth, seething and scared as he quickly is forced to change his position. He kicks over his desk, causing a loud crack and clatter as it knocks over its neighbor. But it creates room, enough space for him to quickly lift his weapon so their blades catch against one-another. Metal upon metal causes an echo within the empty lecture hall, and Noctis skids back from the impact. Almost in a reflex, and he's thankful for it.

That hesitation is still very much there. Inner turmoil similar to Ardyn's where the part of him that's lived a life in Recolle is attached to him. It screams not to hurt him, to just run and leave this be. But another part of him screams that this man is not right, that he's dangerous and a far bigger threat than he may assume. It has Noctis terrified, because habit and upbringing from his skewed perspective has him thinking he's in no physical condition to duel someone via swords.

When Noctis pushes his blade forward to try and gain distance, he feels a strength he's never felt before. Their blades scream as he thrusts it defiantly, skidding back with another swing, this time being the instigator of the next hit. ]

We're related! Why do this?!

[ A hopeful claim. Noctis clearly doesn't understand who he was once upon a time, but this version of him feels betrayed and wounded. Why in the world would he seek to destroy what they have? What their true world offered? ]

[The sound of metal on metal is shrill and ringing. Sparks may as well have flown from the blades crossing, but Ardyn seems eerily unfazed by the force of impact. He remembers fighting; he knows what to expect from it.

He's surprised at Noctis' strength in return, however. This young man, whose physical state had done him no favors in the past... That he can push back and swing against him, enough to where Ardyn has to throw a foot back in order to keep balance, is not something he had expected. Ardyn's still grinning, but there's something humorless about it. The flash of white teeth, still grit, even as he readjusts his position to block the attack.

His expression, seen through the crossing of blades, seems to be just as sharp as their weapons.]

It's because we are related that I've done this. [That he does this. Or was he merely regurgitating his past, bursting at the seams with memories he never asked for? It's difficult to differentiate, and Ardyn can't be bothered to really think it over right now.]

I was betrayed by my own family. I remember it. The hatred, the sorrow. The many, many years of existing, to let it all fester and boil within. And you -- the last of your line -- I hated you for it. But I needed you, all the same.

[He pushes forward, putting weight behind his blade.]

That last fight... You don't remember it at all, do you?

[Ardyn remembers flashes of it. Enough, really, to piece it all together.]

[ Noctis grits his teeth at the additional clash of their blades, the next impact of his dodge stronger than the last. He feels his arms struggle to keep stiff, to prevent Ardyn from essentially cutting his damn head off. It causes his feet to slide along the floor, where he pushes his weight forward in an attempt to keep the impact at bay.

Ardyn's explaination makes little to no sense. But then again, their relation to one-another was never truly explained either. All they'd gathered in the past is that he'd once been a Caelum. Why that had changed was beyond him. Ardyn's explaination of the family turning on him makes no sense because he doesn't know why.

It only makes partial sense in the grand scheme of Ardyn's renewed disposition.

Noctis pushes his blade sideways, roughly working to throw Ardyn's off. Their blades sing in the lecture hall, but his second hit is not with his weapon, but with the shove of his shoulder into Ardyn's chest. Seeking to knock him over, and even Noctis is surprised at the amount of energy he has. By now, he should be in a serious coughing fit. But the pain is non-existent, his lungs clear and his body energized. Where the hell did this strength come from?

Ardyn mentions a fight, and it's clear on Noctis features that it makes no sense. But it doesn't linger when he essentially tries to knock Ardyn down with his weight. ]

What, ghh-- Fight are you talking about?!

You killed Lunafreya. You never came near me!

[ He refers to the matter of Leviathan, not at all aware of Providence and the fight before it. ]

Edited 2017-07-10 21:41 (UTC)

[The shoulder shove connects, causing Ardyn to hiss out in frustration as he's pushed back. He's not knocked down, but it's enough to put space between them. Breathing room for the two Lucis Caelums, staring each other down -- one radiating a bitterness mangled by circumstance, the one whose magic flickers red as he dismisses his sword, replacing it with a greatsword instead.]

I'm not talking about that. [Spat out like it might as well be venom. All of his frustrations, unravelling at his feet, come to life in this act of violence. Fingers tightened around his newly-summoned weapon, knuckles white. It seems too big to carry, and yet Ardyn seems confident that he'll be able to lift and swing it in Noctis' direction when he's so inclined again.

There's something cold in his eyes, almost enough to overshadow something that appears troubled.]

Lunafreya was before all of that. Years before. I'm talking about me and you, Noctis.

[He lifts a chin at him.]

Your ascension as the Chosen King, and the task that had been set before you. That eternal night, wrought with daemons. Don't tell me all of that still escapes you.

[ Relief. Mostly when he's able to purchase some space. Noctis grips his blade tightly, quick to lift it forward. His brow raises at the sudden shift of weapon choice-- He can't... Do that. Shit. That is a giant blade. Noctis points his blade defensively at Ardyn as warning, where he slowly paces backward. Noctis narrows his eyes, struggling to grasp what it is Ardyn is talking about. He comes up with fog. Blankness.

But he recalls an oncoming darkness as he's pulled into the Crystal. It had taken so long to put two and two together. Those dreams where he'd been smothered, where he'd seen Ardyn's face. Anything after that is... There. But not. ]

Stop playing coy with me, Ardyn!

[Playing coy? He laughs, again, short and sharp. How oblivious was Noctis? How long before his memories returned to him proper? Must he pummel them into the boy's head himself, before he remembered?

Well, he'd be glad to.]

Then let me be blunt.

[Noctis might be pacing backwards, but the greatsword is large and its range long -- if swung in an overhead arc, especially while Ardyn shifts forward, the weapon has the potential to come crashing down directly onto his student. And that's exactly what he attempts to do, with a strength that might be surprising to anyone who was unaware that he possessed the capability.

(Please move, Noctis.)]

You killed me! Is that plain enough for you?

[Something that most might feel bitter about -- strangely enough, though his emotions run high in this moment, having died once by Noctis' hand (he doesn't remember the details of exactly how, he only remembers blades crossing like they did now, and the feeling of his very spirit crumbling away in the aether), the idea of having died does not add to his bitterness.

He's gleeful, almost, the way he says it. It's hard to tell. Ardyn is an array of emotions fluctuating in and out right now, a tide, a storm.]

[ It's hard to pinpoint exactly where in lies the source of Noctis' fear. The large blade that Ardyn brandishes may be a good part of it, but something about the almost delighted laughter shakes him to his very core. Ardyn is bitter, but elated. Angry, but excited. And this is not at all the man that Noctis has come to admire and lean on over his time in Recolle.

Ardyn lifts his blade as he gathers the breath to be blunt, and Noctis is given no time at all to prepare for the sudden throw-down of the giant weapon.

His eyes widen at the answer. He... He killed Ardyn? ]

--!

[ The weapon drops down, Noctis squeezes his eyes shut when he's so sure that the impact will come upon him. But a sudden flash of blue light temporarily blinds him. In that split second, he disappears for just as long, appearing on the other side of Ardyn's target, where he instead cuts through a few desks. They shatter with a loud crack.

Noctis feels sick. When his mind catches up, he realizes he's somehow dodged the attack and appeared elsewhere. Wild eyes look down to his hands as the remaining blue glow disappears, confused and nauseous. Those words echo in his mind and he can't seem to understand why it has to come to him killing Ardyn. He has no time to dawdle, but he's stalling because the idea of fighting back is equally horrifying as what's happening right now.

He doesn't recall killing him. Noctis does recall, however, that perpetual night. Daemons and Astrals. Their names escape him, but their cause and purpose lies within him. The level of understanding, however, is completely lost on him. Noctis tries to dig deep, to really try and grasp an understanding of why he would kill Ardyn.

His processing seems to take him in different directions. Noctis only barely recalls certain memories... A letter, news of a visit from the Chancellor of Niflheim. Ceasefire. Treaty.

An engagement.

Chancellor... Ardyn Izunia. It's but a single, wooden plank on the bridge to answers,
but enough to get something out of him. ]

Because you lied!

[ Nevermind the weird, sudden warp-dodge that makes no sense. Noctis feels enough of a surge to get right back in the fray. He jumps to a chair, gaining height as he hops off of it to strike downward. ]

You manipulated your way into the Crown City, destroyed it to empty the throne and steal the Crystal for the Empire--

Killed the Oracle!

[ It's starting to come back. ]

[There it is, he can see it flashing through his face. His eyes. The way the other's expression changes and twists, reminiscent of a memory slamming into him. It compliments the warp-dodge with a punctuation that doesn't surprise him at all, and while a desk has clattered into literal pieces because of his greatsword slamming into it, Ardyn just picks up his weapon as if it were nothing, readying it again.

He doesn't press forward to attack, not just yet. Like a fisherman (the irony in that), he's pulling and tugging at that line. Ripping out more remembrances from Noctis' head if he can, even if it's cruel, even if there's nothing gentle about it.

That's right. Now you-

[Ah, and the blade comes up to block the other's. It pushes back against him, but he just pushes forward again, making no move to attack just yet.]

-remember. What else, Noctis? Tell me. Yes, I killed her. Yes, I wanted the Crystal, but it was not for the Empire. It was to make you strong again, not like how you are now. Think.

Gh--!

[ The greatsword makes a large impact as it strikes down again, The Sword of the Father is tough enough to withstand. But Noctis' arms are sore and screaming. He grits his teeth as he's forced back a ways, body bending backwards.

Normally, memories come in short, fast flashes. And perhaps one, maybe two at a time. Never has he experienced so many reminders at once, and each one makes him sicker than the last. Over the span of time in Recolle, one memory has horrified him to no end. They Crystal, being dragged in and swallowed whole.

Ardyn watching him.

The connection had never been made until today, but with what occurs before him, it isn't surprising. Noctis feels his throat constrict, his insides churn. Ardyn urges him to remember more about the following perpetual night, of... Something...

Providence.

The word pangs at his skull and makes his eyes burn. There's a flash in Noctis' gaze that suggests another light bulb being lit. Noctis' grip slips, causing the blade to tilt. The prince falls to his knees, still trying to keep Ardyn's greatsword from falling down upon him. ]

Stop!

[ His voice cracks. The memories have horrified him for ages now, and having them all forced into him one after another starts to hurt. Knowing that he's a part of this larger, horrific purpose, that he'll lose his friends and die alone...

A means to an end. There's a notable change in his disposition when that conclusion is drawn. That's all he is. ]

open rp post;

I'm not sure what I've gotten myself into

pain obviously

I accept my fate

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1/3

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