daemonized | open rp post;

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"The blaze, the splendor, and the symmetry,
I cannot see but darkness, death, and darkness."
[art credit.]

[ 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. ]

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