Ardyn [x] - ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴄᴏɴsᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴄᴇ (
comesunset) wrote in
lazybox2018-11-15 05:08 pm
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Prelude - Long March Home
His Royal Highness, Ardyn Lucis Caelum, took the chance to step onto the streets of Lestallum without the constant company of his retainers. Verstael had gone wandering off in search of information on the next tomb - a researcher to the bone, even at twenty, a year Ardyn's junior - and Gilgamesh had gone to meet with the Crownsguard. There were few threats in the city, the largest outside Insomnia itself, and after shedding his royal blacks in favor of a more relaxed ensemble, Ardyn practically vanished into the crowd, notable only for his red hair, his height, and the scarf draped loosely around his neck.
Three Arms down, ten to go. And the Lucian countryside hid them well - they'd found a fourth tomb, but with its relic missing, and information from the hunters pointed to a ruin that Ardyn's Shield had turned their trio away from. Ardyn, for once, hadn't argued, feeling the potency of the daemons within in practically the air itself.
For now, he takes his break wandering the streets, picking up a set of skewers from one vendor, a pastry from another, a locally mixed lemonade from a third, and making his way down to the overlook. They've only been in Lestallum a week, and he's already growing fond of the benches there, the view out over the meteor crater. The sunset provides the perfect backdrop as he recalls his meal from its brief time in his Armiger, careful to keep the royal magic out of the sight of any passerby before settling in to people-watch. It's not like he's totally reckless, Gil.
Times like this, with the crowd of the power plant's shift change bustling around him, are the times he most feels like he can relax. Rather than being the Prince, just another face in the crowd... With a smile, Ardyn sips his lemonade before taking another bite of the skewer held idly in his left hand. So refreshing.
Three Arms down, ten to go. And the Lucian countryside hid them well - they'd found a fourth tomb, but with its relic missing, and information from the hunters pointed to a ruin that Ardyn's Shield had turned their trio away from. Ardyn, for once, hadn't argued, feeling the potency of the daemons within in practically the air itself.
For now, he takes his break wandering the streets, picking up a set of skewers from one vendor, a pastry from another, a locally mixed lemonade from a third, and making his way down to the overlook. They've only been in Lestallum a week, and he's already growing fond of the benches there, the view out over the meteor crater. The sunset provides the perfect backdrop as he recalls his meal from its brief time in his Armiger, careful to keep the royal magic out of the sight of any passerby before settling in to people-watch. It's not like he's totally reckless, Gil.
Times like this, with the crowd of the power plant's shift change bustling around him, are the times he most feels like he can relax. Rather than being the Prince, just another face in the crowd... With a smile, Ardyn sips his lemonade before taking another bite of the skewer held idly in his left hand. So refreshing.
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Most likely it will end a mix of both.
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Well, it's hardly my fault a daemon stepped on the Insomnian patent office.
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[Is that a... yes.]
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I do presume it's far from the only thing. Perhaps the city needs a bit of an overhaul.
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Oh, certainly. We're going to have to rebuild the government from scratch.
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[More so when they'd be doing it without a king.]
[...Weird. For just a second, Ignis felt something almost like sympathy.]
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Truly you are a man without humor.
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[And, wouldn't you know it, that actually got him to laugh.]
Are you so interested in me?
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[Yes. Good gods yes.]
You are, after all, the perfect amount of mystery waiting to be unwrapped.
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[He means the frog chase bit literally. Thanks, Professor.]
And yet you know exactly who I am, so there is no pressure of deception hanging over my head. I don't have to perform for you.
When one's life is a near-constant performance, a break such as that is shockingly refreshing.
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