nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

LET'S PLAY {open post}

[ open. texts, messages, rp prompts and starters. gen & nsfw. ]

[ As it turns out, Noctis happens to know just what he likes -- he remembers his order from a lifetime ago, a beef bowl with a side of salad (much to Noctis' distaste for the latter), and he orders the same for them both the second time around. He tries not to think about the few times they have paid visits to this place, essentially unchanged.

The young owner comes out to chat with them, friendly as he had been, and Noctis effortlessly keeps up his end of that particular conversation. If the owner's sensed that Ignis is different -- or having an off day, he doesn't mention it. After all, they did use to be quite friendly.

All throughout the trip here, however, Noctis has paid special attention to when he slows down, registering his interest at certain shops, especially the one with the cat, and he wonders if he remembers how fond he is of these shops -- he's picked up on it by the third shop he'd slowed down at, and makes a note to ask if he wants to go in on their way home. ]

What about dessert? They've got excellent cheesecake. [ Noctis is terribly fond of it, up until one day Ignis decided to make it because the man's always had a complicated relationship with the food Noctis likes that weren't made by him, and Noctis had switched to Ignis' creations ever since. ]

[ Unsurprisingly, the food is delicious. He's tasted good food before, of course. He can follow orders and instructions exceptionally well and all cooking and baking are made of are a list of orders, performed one by one. This, however, tastes even better than normal. Perhaps it's because everything feels good right now, being able to see things like the glint of his cufflinks, the decorative lines on the plates they're eating off of. He notes the colors of the salad, the deep greens, purple veins, the color and life of all of it.

When he looks back at Noctis, he's endlessly grateful he can school his face to hide his emotions because he's relatively certain that he'd have raw awe written across it. It's one thing to know that he's the king, and that Ignis had served him faithfully for years despite other options, offers, most likely. It's another to see the proof of him written in the city around them, in the lettuce they're eating, fresh as you like, in the way the city comes alive around them.

A car horn honks. The air conditioning unit above them creaks and groans with its age; it hasn't been replaced, from the looks of it, but despite ten years it still seems to function. All of the shops, all of the buildings, all of the people living normal, boring, mundane lives again and none of them know that their savior is sitting in a tiny shop with room for eight people, maybe, talking about cheesecake.

What would they have done if Noctis weren't a good man? It's not a pleasant thought to consider. Noctis isn't, though; he's good through and through, smiles quickly and easily and asks Ignis, a man he barely knows, if he wants dessert. It's absurd.

( This is why he loved you with everything he was. ) ]

I'm not certain I could finish an entire one but I could take a taste yours if you intend on getting it.

[ It doesn't matter to him either way; the accolades are tiring, and in Noctis' mind all he did was to honor the sacrifices of all who had fallen for his sake. He loves too much too deeply to abandon the world to darkness, and most especially the ones who had walked beside him, Gladio and Prompto and Ignis, who put their faith in him. He cannot fail them; that's all there is to it.

To see his people happy, to serve them as they pledge their loyalty to him -- that's everything that he needs to do. They've suffered enough in ten years of darkness, of daemons that have overrun everything, where fear had been the order of the day. There is now hope and a future, aid from the coffers that Regis had so shrewdly hidden away from the Empire flowing into the everyday citizenry.

Noctis walks among them, unknown and all the happier for it -- gives him a better, more unpolished look into their lives, ensures that he knows exactly what to fix up when he returns to the Citadel. He does the best he can, he does as Ignis had taught, so long ago. It feels good, spending lunch with him here, the bliss and contentment of the blessedly mundane, and Noctis can't imagine anywhere else he'd rather be. They'd fought for a chance for this, a shot at normalcy, and Noctis will never take this for granted again.

So he smiles at the man opposite him like he's the only one that matters (which is true, he is), loving him with every ounce of his being. He orders cheesecake and it's quickly delivered to their table, two forks thoughtfully provided. He carves out some for himself, takes a bite of the deliciously decadent dessert, and decides that Ignis' tastes just slightly better. ]

Mm. Try it. [ Years ago, Noctis would have fed him from his fork. Today, he restrains himself from it. ]

[ That's the beauty of it, really. Their king and savior walks among them like it doesn't even matter. Ardyn hadn't cared about the world. He'd been spiteful, wanting to spurn the crystal and the Astrals out of misplaced anger that had nowhere else to go. He'd manipulated people like dolls just to see what they would do in some circumstances, and to further his goals in others. He didn't have allies, he had pawns, or underlings, or people who he had evidently wiped the minds of, just to see what would happen.

What would happen if he were sitting across from Ardyn as king right now? If Ardyn had brought back the light, taken him to some hole in the wall restaurant and offered him cheesecake? The thought is almost too bizarre to entertain so Ignis takes his fork and delicately slices a portion off of it, eating it just as carefully. It is good. They live in a world where it's possible to buy milk and sugar and cream, now, where you can eat cheesecake on a whim. It's sometimes overwhelming to realize.

Ardyn would have been a poor choice. Ignis knows that. But he isn't prepared for the realization that there is no better choice than Noctis. A man that's been through the worst of everything and come back out alive and well and cares enough to make it better. ]

I should earn my keep here. More than I am already.

[ Once it's out of his mouth, there's no taking it back. Ignis takes another slice of cheesecake and lets it linger on his tongue before continuing. ]

I may not have all of his memories but I can be useful.

[ That there is increased availability of essential commodities had been one of the top priorities -- they had opened up transportation pathways and roads, because rebuilding cannot happen if your people are parched and starving. Food and water had been first, followed by power. Everything else had come after.

Now, they are steadily building on these inroads and pathways, with the Citadel rendering aid everywhere they can. They have come a long way, even if they have further to go. This afternoon, however, Noctis finds spending time with him a most precious gift -- there is something about watching Ignis eat cheesecake that is impossibly alluring, his enjoyment of food something so surprisingly addicting that he can't tear his eyes away.

Does he remember, he wonders? Is he aware of all the memories within these walls, the evenings they'd shared here as lovers and equals? He can't bring himself to ask, and it's just as well, because Ignis' next words surprise him. ]

Of course. [ It's quick, but Ignis has always been this way, driven and hyper-competent, efficient and bright and hardworking to a fault. ] What do you have in mind?

[ The cheesecake is good. Delightfully so, soft and sweet and the crust on the bottom is the perfect texture. Ignis measures all of it as if he has the grounds to criticize food he can't ever recall eating in his past and then steals another bite while he considers. What could he do? What good is he like this, in all actuality?

He can fight, of course; Ardyn made certain of that during the period of long dark where Ignis had been made to fight the very people he had taken an oath to protect. He'd been trained a thousand different ways in fighting by Gladiolus, by other members of the Crownsguard back before everything went to complete and utter shit. He had value in that, at the very least but what good was he when fighting wasn't something directly necessary these days?

While he recalls bits and pieces of his former job as adviser he knows that he won't recall enough to be directly helpful in a way that Noctis needs. Now that he can see, however, he knows he can figure something out. He is nothing if not determined. ]

Perhaps not all of the same tasks as before, unfortunately. I can attend Crownsguard training with Prompto; it may be a rehash of items I'm already aware of but a refresh wouldn't hurt. And I -- well. My mind wasn't damaged, just my memories, as far as I can tell. I can still organize things and provide structure.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

LET'S PLAY {open post}

no subject

no subject

no subject

*an entire cheesecake not one jfc self

SMOOCHES U

no subject