[ 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. ]
no subject
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. ]