One could listen to soft ripple's symphony. Barely moving, as her limbs were one with waves. Had the savior caught sight of her bathing figure already? A soundless gait came to her notice - and she smiled as she awaited him. ( Since the first day, would the siren draw him into depths of her 'shrine‘ - nothing had changed. ) A stretched out hand in reach for him, appeared on display. Her hums, alluring; and her glance could gravitate. „Darling, mine cold waters are quite adventurous--"
crevices of the universe — a door to nothingness — this ( im )mortal man is drawn
to an oblivion haze ( her resolution
, her mind , her soul ). a miasma of warmth, the atmosphere exudes
— an emitted flavour to be sampled by caelum’s mute tongue. shapeless
intentions portray leisure of approach, ankles variant in stride through
precipitation of ambiance. the cosmos sighs
in their union, enthralled by the
innate bond of prophecy — flaws
undiscovered, esteem reassured— yet contemptuous
of their infatuation. for how could a man
embrace the tension of a goddess’s burden? to kiss the wings of a monarch, you
will taint its nature of flight —
liberty confiscated as it may flutter
no longer ( you’re mine , please , never leave me ). a myth, of course, as
the powder of its anatomy is as resilient to the touch of creatures as it is to the aggression of rainfall. tiamate is not a butterfly, but a torrent to swamp the earth. and here she rests, in the discretion
of her king, the pleasure of their affair, and the prudence
of his hesitation.
such an involvement, this designation — as though a beckon of
the clouds, a commitment of the rivers.
her engagement, a spousal address of
‘ darling ’, proves causal to the highlight
of his features — a grin most affectionate in its
perception of her exposure. physical bareness, an ecstasy of flesh submerged in the glow of her opals, is
not what provides him her vulnerability.
it is the extension of her arm, an olive
branch from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, that outsmarts his
reluctance to court her. bite the apple, and you will be poisoned. a blissful
end. take
me to the ocean in sacrifice.
deliberate pace measures his venture, a dawdle
of posture now closing in on her divine, bathing physique. she has familiarized herself with the amenity of
his chamber, to draw her own waters even in the absence of the scourge’s
liberator. how long have you been here? a century, an afternoon ( with
your thoughts , your past , tell me the stories of our crooked minds
)? this radiating heat was not a luxury of any tap or faucet — it was humid
by her doing; a will of the seas, a taste
of her prowess. she could scorch as the infernian born from
darkness’s womb, and scaldall within the water, or sooth
as the glacean — and preserve the chill of arctic depths. a window of her
emotion? to be discovered.
freedom of hand molds against her in nearness — exploring sculpted bosom and heavenly collarbone — his lips a sugar upon her ear and cheek. solace exposes them, a fondness
in purr; the world is but an
illusion, and they, a reality. draw across sentiment, evolve all weakness, and spread thy ribcage so he
may feast upon your heart. no
honesty, no lies, the essence will beat
amidst teeth and grant the curse of immortal sin. cannibalize the
stars, and perhaps he will achieve freedom of the daemons after his soul. a biblical
mistake.
“ you assume the waters are cold ,
my dear —— ? ( you must be joking ) ” what temperatures may harm a mortal, she would not bat an eyelash.
should he join her, he would bear a rash
of unwarranted tinge. the room is
far from ‘ cold ’, let alone the bath she occupies. “ aha … your
ability to withstand such potency of heat astounds me . if i were to join you
, i’m afraid i would not walk for
some time —— ” reminiscent of their first
night together, it was an affliction worth avoiding. though the experience
was that of an asteroid replacing one’s lungs, thrusting their desperation into the guidance of another’s, the might of the goddess had thrown ardyn’s
bearing astray. he had to avoid his
brother for what felt like a millennia, so as to elude his
noticing something was ‘ off ’ in the way he stepped.
“ —— i must decline this … hmn …
‘ adventure ’ , if i’m to savor the night . ” a confession; a truth. it is difficult to sleep ( to
heal ), when your body aches.
such is the opposite of her intention, a goddess new to man’s delicacy who continues to struggle in understanding
their bodies’ soft resilience. to be burned
by water requires curative measures he could
exhaust, but to be scarred by a star
— by the touch of eternity — he
would be staggered a fortnight, once more.
A FELL VOICE —- ONE THAT CAN ONLY BE ARDYN’S, swiftly reaches the blond’s ears; prying, probing, causing DOUBT within his mind ( which he had been so sure before ) no. prompto could not let the chancellor get under his skin. though, something about the way those EYES stared at him, as if he could see straight through him. it festered an UNSETTLING sensation within the pit of his stomach.
❝ ——- no…. i said SHUT UP, alright?! ❞ the gunslinger takes an IMMEDIATE step back, his stance WAVERING upon such circumstances. an outstretched arm CEASES in its attempt to hold up his firearm —– the boy’s troubled mind holding him back, ❝ just —– l-let me think for a second… ❞ but time was not a LUXURY. prompto did not have it. in fact, he was living on BORROWED time, at this point. the sooner noctis destroyed the airships, the better. SURELY the prince would see to reason, with the blond holding ardyn up at gunpoint.
‘ —— you T R U S T me ‘
those words are what RESONATE with him the most. what shakes him to his very core. the blond stands upon the train, the wind smacking against his ears —- the NOISE too much to bear. all these noises….
❝ you SERIOUSLY expect me to believe you didn’t have anything to do with this?! why noct —- ❞ ‘ prompto – !! ‘
the voice of his best friend RISES to the blond’s ears in hope, for the tone is that of CONCERN for his well being. though, such thoughts are cut short when the prince swings upon the other’s arm, which was OUTSTRETCHED towards the chancellor. the force is a chain reaction — which causes the young rook to drop his firearm; PAIN surged through his arm, a cut formed from the blade which had struck him. there’s a FLASH — of eyes that normally were coloured of the ocean; instead were filled with FIRE. hatred. LOATHING. eyes that hated him. it choked him up — allowing a lump to rise within his throat. a feeling in which he wouldn’t wish upon anyone. the feeling of everything you thought you knew about a person… WAS A LIE. ‘ noct… do you REALLY hate me that much – ? ‘
it isn’t long until the forceful palms of the prince shove against prompto’s chest, pushing him off the moving train. && everything went black.
collateral damage of limbs’ bewilderment tightens a snare about the pallor of prompto’s
neck ( all the better to fall with ). his executioner, not the
disputed allure of the chancellor, but the sightless retaliation of his beloved noctis. deception transfigures reality, a smear of compelling illusions counter the wrathful descent of their
future king. footwear lands; the boy stumbles and charges — onyx features
suspending all manipulative
interjections from ardyn ( “ prompto ” ). identities
reversed, sentences overturned — “ ardyn
” assumes submission of the pistol
before him yet again. ‘ noctis help me ,
’ his eyes plead; irreverence for the duo painted
over by layers of exterior, artificial fear ( of “ himself ” , how comical
).
“ prompto — !! ”
certainty fractures, and within the
last instance of opportunity — a
passing retreat — ardyn bows beneath noctis’s projected
assault. to underestimate the boy’s ability to “ see ” inspires swift
curvature of a height not his own, as perhaps
the caelum had overcome his crafted, fraudulent visions. no such luck allayed
the little gunman. he fell for it. this was only the beginning of your suffering.
the prince dishonours himself, taking the offensive against that of an innocent — an ally. the incursion of
pain to possess the blonde’s body as armiger meets flesh, a fortune most familiar to the accursed in observance,
rivals that of the mind’s capacity to damage.
‘ yes —— well done , noct . you make it so easy for me . it is astounding , how naïve you are to our
world’s dishonesty . you have far to go , before you will ever be king . ’
ruinous judgment elicits poise of dominance ( the act is his , draw the curtain
). ardyn shifts within leisure, a method of gratified ankles, to the proximity of noctis’s trauma. only now as the
mirror to authentic perception ruptures before him — gazing at the
plummeting grief of a lifelong companion — do the roles return.
“ how long were you in the dark —— ? ” as though history sneers upon them, accenting the
blunder of the crystal’s second choice, ardyn belittles.
with revolver in hand, a token of punishment
collected from the depths of noctis’s oversight ( the platform beneath their feet
), he clouts its rigidity over
tenderness of the upper neck.
paralysation concludes their skirmish; limbs holding no ground to the kingdom, only weight
as the heir drops. ardyn neglects
catching him, for what purpose would it serve to ease his pain? he was not the one to have been shoved
off
a train.
“ —— we will meet again , your majesty . ” a nudge from solitary boot
is the extent of his civility in departure. “ i must be off collect your abandoned toy . if he survived your
little push without so much as a scrape
on his knee , i will be sure to give him a few cracks for you . ”
– – One walked alone, yet beside herself. Entangled in a miserable construct build out of own, haunting thoughts. Indeed, she was thoughtful; brooding. Leather-clad palms ran over cold steel, generated heat within marred skin easily blending out what chilling sensation gelid metal should have t r i g g e r e d . Attention is fixed as keys sunk into the side pocket of the crow’s kitbag, helmet & motorcycle now locked & parked beneath provided lot. It would stay behind; left in the wake of obliteration & corroded memories. Epitomizing the final, abandoned KEEPSAKE of a life eventually lost.
There was a spark; a petite glint of tangerine crawling over robust leather, leaping across protruding knuckles – burn it. Let it explode. Let it combust into a thousand pieces. Mark the beginning of yet another restart. Cross the border, dear crow, & never wager to look back for what looms beneath heavy boots was but harrowing grief; baring its ugly teeth; venomous. Pure TOXIN to porous sanity
Tenebrae was not save; no haven meant to shelter them but a PRISON instead. Protector & royal would be compelled to elope; to mayhaps return here & head to the South? Cue the balling of dominant left; a single gesture there to quench invoked cast. Oh arsonist, don’t you know that you will soon have enough targets to burn – ?
Black bird boarded the train with habitually striding gait, right digits digging deep into drapped strap. Her belongings were s p a r s e . Mostly consisting out of medicine, bandages & the leftovers of a far too minimalistic lifestyle. && one was not meant to be missed, nothing left to hint at the crow’s pointless existence – for in the end … had the glaive’s noble sacrifice not been in vain?
Oh indeed, alas one was hellbent to fulfill a King’s plea – for hearth & home, or so they said.
“ a traveler. “
Firm words slipped from parted lips with a brittleness unmatched by many – irises twitched, seething gander resting upon odd figurine close by. One quirked a single brow; in thought, in a quizzical manner – he stroke no familiar pulse; neither similarity nor distinctness. A mere entity meant to p a s s by or one there to further raise war-honedsuspicion? The crow is wary, figurative wings fluttering as the train jerked into motion, gloved fingers clinging to stanchion close by. Be careful, be on guard. Expressions sung of militant neutrality; aloof & stoic – yet one’s posture appeared at ease; oh ….never would her composure falter.
“ – what do you want? “.
had an accretion of the media’s venom failed to reach the veins of this passenger? left to
float about their anonymity — ignorant
of history’s grim defeat — deprived in absenting all broadcasts? a
pitiable abstinence, should obliviousness prove causal of their journey. fear
does not climb, grasp, or teach this persona — a miscarriage in calibrating propaganda.
the solemn dignity of man scrambles
at the mercy of the empire, but it appears not
all are aware of this. take my hand in yours — stranger of wanderlust — and i shall feed you to the lions if only to see your identity flayed.
night gathers, deriving shadows of
those housed within ribcage stepping aboard. they prickle along flesh, clamped within stillness of palms as
composure resonates( tell
me i am sane , lie to me mercilessly ). recurrence of daemons, drawing
along the cracks of his poise with
jaded parchment and putrid ink, takes an upsurge
within the late hours. mutated escalation provides necessity of seclusion. he
sleeps alone ( if at all ), he travels alone, and exhausts all remaining
patience with liberal self-loathing ( a revulsion to burden mankind ). all
to indulge the scorn of the moon. what a travesty to behold the façade of ‘ the chancellor ’.
this pair, unacquainted — they are
detained by similar motives; to find the oracle ( capture her , imprison her
), and levy an impertinent dominance over her movements. she escaped, but not
for long. her torments will catch up with her, among the skeleton of her fate.
only this figure — a contour of flesh
and audacity — holds not the same abhorrence for the girl. but that is a
tale of glorious tragedy, to be exposed and carved beneath the smothering madness of ardyn’s charade. save
yourself the tongue of a leech, and set the lake afire( before
it is too late ).
a rhapsody of sway filters the
potency of balance. the engine gorges,
consuming flawless motion of accursed
height. the jolt of speed does not last — a
fleeting binge of hasted departure — and permits the imperial guile
of curst limbs to meander the slender hall of compartments. ‘ come out , come out , ’ his intellectual
company sniggers and chortles,
abrasive if their eagerness to discover, locate, and trap this party member. ‘
i saw you come aboard … he must be
— ’ valorous disbelief counters
his esteem. a woman. how unexpected. she recognizes his presence as swiftly
as he regards hers, if not sooner.
her expressive detachment articulates she had been watching him for a time, but how long?
“ what do you want ? ”
her words are terse; impassive. she
has the spark of a lit match yearning for a pyre ( look
no further , he shall provide ). the sheep becomes the shepherd, and he the blade to bring rise to a butcher. an
underlying familiarity grunges her
features. it was never a ‘ blessing ’ for the chancellor to recognize you, certainly not in
territories now conquered by his
employer ( an incompetent pawn ).
“ you’re a blunt one , i see . i was
only curious as to who i may share this rather long travel
with , and as you boarded alone —— it is a courtesy of
mine to introduce myself . you are far more — striking in fairer lighting , i must admit . i mistook you for a outlaw prior to departure , hmhm … but
i was mistaken , no — ? ” mauve
were his words, a hue of deceit — yet charming in their audible stimulus. there
was something more to her, hidden as
the layers of magma beneath the
earth.
revelries of the year’s rotation — a helix of time spiraling about the savior’s existence —
configures familiarity in amassing counterparts. they are not within january’s
commence, rather the anniversary of a gemini’s birth — an isolate star
amidst the fallen manifestation of the heavens. the formalities of a ‘ birthday ’ were always trivial to the healer, recurrently ushered beneath schedules’ carpet to be forgotten on all accounts. for the last
seven years, he had been reprieved of
the attention — the gathering of townsfolk an auspicious delight exclusively
for his brother, their sovereign. explicitly would izunia’s
people devote, commending his age and applauding his knowledge for
another year. such laud was never a
necessity for ardyn, not until his anointment; eulogizing tongues, letters, and
persons of the sort now overpraising his ‘ survival
’. after all, is that not what a birthday
entails? a figurative medal of honor to be pinned upon
youthful, or matured breast so as to instill your endurance within the universe?
such is the arrogance of mankind; an attribute the savior could never quite
understand.
nonetheless, postures strut, cavort, and flounce
— filing themselves into coherency of a line
nearest the dining table as eldest brother dons the hierarchy of its laminate
carvings. seated at outermost length of its structure, a solitary wooden
chair for the ‘ head ’ of the celebration, a founding elation is thrust upon him. a masterful technique
to keep the caelum in one place ( as he so often wanders to cure ),
fashioning his posture with distant associations, vague acquaintances, and
jovial progenies of those securing loyalty of the regal bloodline. children
were a blessing to this earth — this desolate world blistered by the seasons
of hell’s
fire. the ashen lungs of the late ifrit
breathes heavy to its disarray, kindling ardyn’s yearn to leave, and to help. he buries such intentions with
a proclivity to smile; the unity of man’s compassion flickering across porcelain teeth, bestowing izunia’s ( ardyn’s
) people with regenerative hope. virtuous was his benevolence, and resonating were his eyes — a golden spark of hallowed
amber to bequeath the anxiety of those grasping his hand, bowing upon
presentation of gifts, and doting him with dependant tears. ‘ save our families , ’ they pray,
ignorant to the effects the scourge will have upon the very man they implore, ‘
we believe , we believe . ’
bountiful silence weaves charisma
into curiosity. accommodating a room full of strangers, a comprising assortment
of ages and lineage, the countenance of prophecy
faces the substantiality of eyes.
hundreds were loitering, patient and benign
as reservations of initial present
lingers betwixt temperate fingers. ‘ the
tag reads it is from —— well , i never would have expected odin to partake
. had i forgotten to tell you not to get
me something ? you are so ardent ,
when assimilating . to appear as a mortal man and act the part , buying your
subject — a gift … ’ this token would not be like the others; he knew as
much. natter of the intellect spurs pause,
a branching hesitation preceding digits’ grasp of parchment’s splendor. slate
blues, soft as the pastels of the sky — luminous
as the reverence in lion’s gaze — enchant the exterior of the offering.
whispers of a babe, a lamb to cling upon the solace of its mother’s leg, plead
eagerly for the caelum to open it. relieve them of cosmogony’s grievances, and
pamper the innocent. why not?
thumbs break the seal. ardyn maintains view of the sentinel — blurred by distance, shoulders and heights
— so as to relay his appreciation for whatever may occupy this humble box. a flusterment for him,
having avoided doing this for many years, it bridles his composure. gifts
were always so nerve wracking. this anticipation acted as a harness for
the god, a deity who seemed oddly content
from his corner of the room. transient ripping
and expectant tearing displaces reflective papers to the floor, an appealing
silence in their descent. provocative
was the final clasp holding secret to the contents of the package, blunt in its
make yet impressively crafted.
impulse counsels sincerity of hands, having the caelum pull open its lock. in
the midst of a breath, the room leans
— lid is guided ajar, and eyes are
rewarded — a charming numbness fiddling with his knuckles. it is clear
why the god smiles; an amiable ruse.
the box is empty.
“ that is … quite bold of you , cor —— ” inclined to return the bluff and assume victory
of the ploy, ardyn adopts the allure of a jester.
only the lion and his master know the truth, an advantageous detail for limbs now covering the box’s maw. “ —
however , for future reference … i would keep something of this nature for the privacy
of my chamber , as there are children
in the room . ” giggles trail his ‘ suggestion ’ from the youths nearest his
seat; a disarming smirk upon clever
lips as the deity’s features evolve into the bloom of a most vibrant red. this was odin’s first attempt at
outsmarting the chosen ( adorable ), a delectable
outcome rousing ardyn’s pleasure.
underestimate his ability to modify, and secure e a joke for his own resolve —— well, most do not
make the same mistake twice.
People gathered midst wide halls, danced to string play and piano echoes. Melodies of elegance could've been of her liking, if the loud steps of the crowd weren’t so unpleasant for her ears. A moment to dance with another alone, seemed actually like a sweet concept. But alas, the heels she wore- how could she dance if not even walking was performed properly? A sigh; as her teeth nibbled on lower lip. Best be done to hide this small irrelevant wish. However, her eyes spoke thousands of words.
collaborative zeal spectates the room, a witness of its own felicity. paramours frolic upon the arms of pretenders, courtesans, and philanthropists of the sort — like moths to a flame ignited by the majesty of wealth. the rapture of these women, buried beneath timidity or expressed upon painted lips, capers about the breadth of the hall’s flooring in natural waves. a vast, immaculate shimmer of euphoria follows union of limbs over laminate surface, both men and women groping at the presence of their lovers, evolving the jubilation of the atmosphere, and partaking in fluent sway of postures so as to dance in accord with the orchestra. such a tasteful ensemble, hand selected by the healer. whether or not his ‘ feminine consort ’ approves of this tune, a compatible variance of symphonies intended for her pleasure, falls to the celestial’s absence. ‘ tick tock , m’dear . you sneaky woman . is it not my brother who is guilty of being late ? i would not have expected this of you . perhaps you are picking up izunia’s habits —— aha … i doubt it . ’
though he was not the ‘ sovereign ’ of lucis, rather the chosen king of light, it was clear who possessed the title of his queen. for tiamate to retain such notoriety, latently shunned by the grandeur of the other gods ( expressly the draconian ), was gossip of the kingdom. ardyn, plausibly a suitor for the goddess, has yet to refute the conjecture. encouraging speculation was but a tendency unnamed, reserved and moderate of his indulgence. had rumor caught her ear? do the likes of their discrepancies bother her? nonsense. she abstains from any and all interaction unbefitting her lenience of man, as though a scar of her prior relation —— an authoritarian partiality from the deity bahamut. she does not speak of them; of him. ardyn’s curiosities and interpretations lie within the scripts of lore, a calligraphy of dubious sentiments. best not to regard such thoughts; not within such festivities.
the savior hovers alone nearest the refreshments, blithe comedy surfacing at his ear as a succession of inquisitors meet his graces and incite his manners. their persuasive interrogations, both prying and admirable, reflect within amber hues as appendages fiddle with the fabric of collar. as though the gesture upon the material baits his senses, a reminder of his lady’s esteem to be arriving within the hour, he is teased. how she tantalizes him; so torturously refine. the longer he does not see her, the more he is tormented; a whimsical desire — deferred until she arrives. in reality, tiamate has been here longer than he knows; hidden.
only as partition takes places within the crowd — a fractionate glimpse, an endearing revelation — does he spot her. innate magnetism fastens pupils to the marvel of her frame, a phenomenon of passion encasing his chest, motivating his heights, and rendering his fervor in glance. he is not without eagerness, yet for an eternity — a second — he cannot move. she wears the delicacies of glass, not in her gown or of her eyes, but in the dignity of her feet. a gift most ornate for her silver features, dusted by the cosmos and revered by the chosen. a platinum lover. the fragile garment is as affective as he presumed it would be, given the intimacy of his slipping them over her toes a night’s length before. peculiar how — albeit resistant — she dons his intentions as though a willing participant. this matrimonial affinity between them, filtered through the abundant whispers of those prancing about their proximity, seems to be taking root in her foundations. he will see to the growth of this tree, a sapling to be nurtured by his fidelity. thus, a seamless transition places him within the tides of her personage, negligent hesitation following candid tilt of spine as he lowers himself before her; a bow of apt respects.
“ it seems i am not the only one who is distracted by your beauty this evening —— ” eyes return up her figure from marble echoes of the floor, curvature of height allowing him to overlook the siren once more. it is rather comical, the angle between their gazes — how he towers and playfully frustrates — though he distracts her with suggestion to the eyes of their vicinity. truth be his words: several males’ jaws limp with view of her exteriors. as she turns, to discern for herself as opposed to accepting his word, the cosmos turns with her. a universe of suppression, emotion, and pain — in chorus with innocence, and artful longing — caresses her eyes; the healer recognizing it is not the men she looks to, but the women rejoicing in their partnered ballet. ‘ your lip is raw , ’ he gathers, mindful her yearn for the activities, ‘ how your humanity pleases me so —— aauh … you are beginning to change . ’
the healer vexes her balance in singular motion: stepping forth to emboss his posture with that of hers. she stumbles within his arms as chests unite — a merger of breaths in gesture’s wake — whilst he supports exposure of slender waist via poise of left hand. heels of glass engrave arch of boots as she is forced to step upon him, though the caelum remains unperturbed. tiamate had yet to experience the harmonies of dancing, let alone clad in a pair of such precarious slippers. one might say he planned this. it is only natural to rest her atop his feet, weightless as the currents of an idle lake, and guide her, teach her — adore her. mindful of her pride, a charitable instinct of their chosen king, he knew to avoid her appearing clumsy with such an assorted attention looming about them. hence, with the argent goddess featherlike atop his footwear, he shall conform to the composers’ melodies and guide her through the colorful experience; to begin painting one another with ‘ first times ’.
“ chin up , tia —— do not look to our feet . it is the eyes you want ( and your eyes i will keep ) . so look to me , and the movements will come more naturally . it’s all a pattern , really . i promise i will place you back on the floor when the time is right , but for now … i’m afraid i have stolen you for the night . ” her oceanic surges, a psychology of the aethers, are now his to persuade — and the night is very young.
the winds are merciless, as is the brimming disgrace of eos’s sanctified redeemer. painful sentiment borders haggard eyes, chiselling away at his composure whilst engraving scars into his pride, recollection, and awareness. disdain from the gods congregates as weighted vapours of the night, ramuh’s mutations of the sky forking in occurrences of hostile light. thunder articulates, discordant with the soundless hesitation of ardyn’s lungs. he shrivels, and wavers — disposition fragile beneath the downpour of the skies. balcony absorbs the nucleus of the storm, the caelum’s hold upon its railing taut with repentance. the heavens wane, remorseful of actions not entirely his own. nevertheless, exuded contempt falls hard within patter of torrent, soaking his anatomy and drenching his faded soul. he quivers from the water’s effects; reluctant to speak or to listen, to remember and to fear ( himself). infinite are his damages, coiled within hands now foreign to his cerebral will. ‘ i did not mean to — ( yes you did ) — to hurt her … i had not … tia , she — ’
an illuminized crack lashes ambiguity of clouds, flogging his deliberation and maiming his concentration. as though the daemons cranking his psyche were not enough, the gods must now redeem their wounded; the goddess of the seas, left alone in his chamber upon conclusion of his hallucinogenic reason. never had he envisioned seizing her with an intent to kill; to strangle her as he had. hands wound her neck — like a barbed wire, to asphyxiate and expose illusory treason — only to find himself propelled off her form in the latest hours of twilight’s deliverance. she had the ability to defend herself, yet she had not; it was cor leonis, of all his nobility, to intervene and remove ardyn from atop the siren. she would have sooner perished by the callousness of his deviance — throttled by her king, garroted by her lover — than to oppose the degeneracy of his daemons. ‘ but why — ? she must know , she must know … it was not i who —— i did not intend … i would never … ’
his heart says he cannot survive another moment without her, yet his mind affirms she will not survive another incidence with him. ardyn’s morality — however much is left — is torn between the two like parchment doused in black ink; shredded out of mercy for its terminal stain. there are certain dyes you cannot remove; a pigment of fate, a punishment of the cosmos. clemency does not exist, not any longer for ardyn’s quailing purity.
“ what … have you become ? ”
assertion of struggling virtue — a gamble of stability — tremors his spine upon expression from the sentinel. he arches over the slick barrier opposite him, contemplating the alleviation of casting himself over balcony’s ledge. an attempt on his own life, for an attempt on another. he is not a murderer, yet he almost killed her. wayward sanity goads him to jump. they jeer — these voices of the scourge, all knowing — whilst mocking his anguish and deriding his consuming ache. an infection of the flesh; ardyn is unaware of his immortality. possessing him, he is fleetingly returned to the ‘ creature ’ responsible for tiamate’s assault. his pores discharge liquid obsidian, a blackness to the tears now wept along depleted cheeks.
“ —— A MONSTER . is that what you want to hear ? that my cruelty is no longer a matter of fiction , but a prowess of my transcendence ? you could never understand . not in the way you look at me — the way she looks at me — NO … ”
an eruption of the sky liberates his visage of obscurity, disclosing an otherwise secreted guise. the lightning defeats him, revelation of his adulterated integrity a vivid imperfection — onyx smears — across pallid features. had tiamate seen this before? a mysterious thought. for certain, via ramuh’s objective, this was the first of odin’s existence to bear witness to the chosen’s mutated self. but what of the goddess? it is unspecified; a nameless memory of her affection for the fallen; their ‘ healer ’.
Eyelids flutter open to a radiant reflection, blurred, novelty of heterochromia still clouded between colors and blurred smudges. awakening from torturous slumber, he is pallid flesh and rotting bones, lips threading weakly as verbosity falters: ❛lunafreya...?❜ there is a sudden awareness of the cold touch against his palm, of the hand that has held his, and he blinks to wipe clean the smog that cloud the glass of his eyes, to look with clarity at what is veiled: ❛where... where is my sister?❜
it’s not unusual to see the sky weep. burdened with aimless sentiment, reflective of humanity’s desultory afflictions, it reconciles with the ignorance of history — of human existence and its ravenous treachery. they fight, they ravage, they murder and love — an assorted brutality known only to the minds of those alive. the dead fear the living, as it is their legacies subjected to the cosmos’s unruly deliberations. only those who may return from the netherworld may compete with fate’s bedlam, a consorted blessing and punishment to ‘ the accursed . ’
with such an amenity to be utilized — resurgence, no less — what comes of his isolation? in a room filled with supplementary tones, both feminine and masculine of the sort, the immortal is disfigured by a reclusive tendency to loiter in the room’s corner ( when not spectating persons susceptible to his manipulation, that is ). neither nurse nor doctor pays him any heed, as though a shadow of the wall, a skeleton of the weather. shaded by the draft of rain pattering against vastness of windows, amber hues are transfixed to the immobility of a slumbering fleuret. recovery suits him ill, distinguishing his defeat — a slaughter of his pride as a foreign limb acclimatizes his flesh. the lucii are not merciful.
medical attendees, cooperative and simultaneous in their movements about his body, probe, delve, and admire their work with the merger of intravenous wires scaling ravus’s anatomy. not an organ was missed, it would seem — though the majority of arterial supplies had converged upon tragedy of arm. implication of scar tissue seethes through layered bandages, ravus’s stately countenance surviving the turmoil of ardyn’s counselled operation. the bird was wounded, he needn’t chirp in the chancellor’s ear to plead for help, and yet — testimonial of ravus’s bidding elicited a fable from the imperial; that the fleuret ‘ aspired for preservation of his wounded body , ’ no matter what that entailed. only in pursuing magitek assistance would he be sustained. mortality deferred — infection subdued – ardyn has him right where he wants him.
personae scuttle out of the room, anonymous in their tamper with the atmosphere’s weighted silence. the void ascends from seated obscurity once alone with the patient; ardyn’s stride thwarted by tempest’s ambiguity. the rain hisses from adjacent, translucent barrier, muffling travel of endearing ankles. his boots readily collect their immediacy, appendages earnest in their modest collection. he takes ravus’s hand.
temperament unscathed, remorse a fictitious embrace — ardyn’s reserved squeeze unifies their successive encounter. several days had elapsed, bordering the length of a fortnight, and still they are without communication. the medication inducing his coma, having been removed earlier this afternoon, bridges the gap of their realities. ravus’s body did not reject the prosthesis, no doubt a product of methodical inaccessibility for the oracle, promoting feat along lips as they press into a line of victory. i win. bleep of machinery pronounces ravus’s heartbeat, and in the enduring presence of ardyn’s palm, he awakens. ‘ you spoil me … so soon , ravus . ’ mumbles wager — fluster ravus’s enunciation and coax ardyn closer to the mouth in struggle. the fleuret need not raise his voice, not after what ardyn has made of him.
“ ——— lunafreya … ? ”
mortification twinges ardyn’s anatomy; forename stitching the length of his arm and noosing the breadth of his neck. he nearly chokes upon ravus’s misperception; the gods surely gloating in the aftertaste of the oracle upon his own, foul tongue. offense acts upon its own, withdrawing his grace from ravus’s hand to bury it in the resentment of his own pockets. they are together no more; the accursed an affronted tenderness wilting beneath the aggressor of this sister’s manifestation. ‘ i have been here … at your side —— i nurtured you , i fixed you . if she had come here , she would have risked everything … !! ’
“ where … where is my sister ? ”
indignity wavers, an amorphous flicker betwixt amber optics. perception ornaments ravus’s fatigued eyelids, lethargic in their unveiling. revulsion churns, fuming from ardyn’s pores — yet indignance falters upon revelation of opposing irises. heterochromia. this was not an expectation. it riddles and punctures ardyn’s intellect — a stimulus of justifications fortifying his reason. a defense he must secure, so as to bolster in the prime of ravus’s awareness. for surely, as ardyn stands now, facing yet another consequence of his prosthesis — ravus will identify the anomaly of his eyes and reel. ‘ how unexpected — how beautiful. ’ as though porcelain dropped to the floor, ardyn fractures. the exploitation of his mind from the daemons of his immortal cadaver is suspended within pause; replaced by the necessity of the future.
“ my sincerest apologies , ravus —— your sister has made herself unavailable in her duties . though i’m sure she — ‘ regrets ’ not being here … ahn … a greater effort could have been made . ” an escorting insolence provokes motion of ankles, returning him to the proximity of his design. digits fiddle with the brightness of an overhead spotlight, diminishing ravus’s chances of recognizing his reflection, as the windows are a short distance away. if the lamb cannot see, surely its wound — a manner of the wolf — will be secreted.
“ you are still very weak . let us forget your sister’s indifference , and focus on your recuperation — ”
—– Along in hours of her awakening, were moments lurking in which skin pressed on skin, peacefully; ( in all your bewilderment. ) the heat betwixt figures forgotten, belonging to bygone moon glows. Only warmths of accompanying bodies remained, transmitted their temperature onto softest bed in their rest. Cool morning touch stroked her eyelids whilst wide waters were calm. Yet troubled by the lightnings on crooked spine, legs and chest - the languid siren stretched her own. This vessel felt too tight at times. Never was the compression of a wild celestial into smaller room a clever idea. – – – Thus, there were lonesome moments needed for her to breathe. With that arose the Leviathan, leaving the male underneath the fabric of blankets.
Inside the very cabinet, ( door closed for silence’s sake ) resided the female for search of material to cover her bare whites. Silk she chose for a smooth match. The mirror which held this godly reflection, entered a span of recognition. Irises made of grey prism watched those parts thathe had touched. Remembered those that her own hands hovered, the last. And she wondered if her fingertips left scars or marks - for never would true harm last, as a planned intention within such… occurrences. But her edges were sharp, caressing lips caused pain to a common mortal. But he’s the one exception. The divine light did not burn him.
The voice beyond locked wooden barrier called for her, lured female’s attention finally into the outside. She wandered in slow stride - feet and ankles in their natural shine. Placed herself down for his assistance to intertwine strands within formal inquiry; yet something else would those ash colors receive. A PULL drew her focus to a mischievous smile - (another moment of harsh tugging; he loved to TEASE. But her temperament was impetuous ) this man’s grasps were gentle and rough all the same.
Her first instinct would arise as the immediate reach for the pulls origin. A coarse touch to be done, whilst a flexed tendon already presented its obscure beauty upon the back of her ever so delicate hand, connecting wrist and knuckle. The second, a pressured growl of the monstrous creature she were. Do not forget this: she’s a beast with a serpent’s tongue. And much like an unearthly serpent could this Nymph h i s s. Acridly, threatening.
Alone to provoke a goddess like he did – – what a nerve he had, what daring courage. To challenge H E R was a foolish decision. O ‘holy’ Savior, were you aware she could be your undoing, your ruin, your DEATH, - if she so desired? But the action was returned in equal cruelty. This royal blood has been a lucky one, he may expect the forgiving hint, to be not a placement of her fingers onto his neck.
But this sturdy jawline served as theatre for trickery protests - perfectly shown and freed for her to kiss, to bite and lick. However would she refrain, despite the heartache… only finely pecked ceramic teeth along a small canvas of nude scenery widths - until her visage entirely was drawn away with the same smirk faking that of the HEALER, devilish in its essence. She could play his torture game as well – believed yet not into his triumph and win.
A rejection to her request he gave, and to this chuckled the frustration from her silently, briefly. This goddess only wished a lovely design for her hair – or preferred he rather to see hers untidy in all bloom? “What shame. Then it must be done by ourselves. If thou removes then thy hands, so an interruption with our schedule may not occur… so soon?” See, how she teased, as hands took his own from their position, guiding masculine palms along slender carved shoulders; arms as pale as one of these ancient statues of women unknown to her. And oh those HIPS: her scales, so unspeakable tender curves they possessed. Their hands; warm lingering within sea’s cold; ghosted over this feminine Silhouette. Slowly but surely – never close enough to reach the wave’s surface. It’s her revenge, her dominance. “Hast the Caelum ceased such mannerism to prepare himself for his duties, at last? Or would he desire a little break for the day?” – and the evening… into the next night.
to consume the seven seas, one must renounce your entirety — to her eyes, her flesh, the compass that draws your lips to the verve of her breath. a moment’s altercation could lead serenity astray — such is the nature of his sporadic taunts — but to settle the ferocity of her waters lingers upon discretion of touch. a diversion of preference ( to sooth the cosmos ), he handles her, entices her, temptation in dominance yet her resistance is boundless. how is it possible to govern the limberness of the ocean? to grasp the shapeless reform of her entity — barren thighs and twisted lips — is but a folly of their haze; a vapour of the lungs, distilled like that of a separate reality cloaking them in rivalrous affection.
the ‘ tug ’ was but a playful reminder that neither served the other, regardless of their commissioned physicality. they embraced liberty in conjoined desperation — her lips intertwining with the loyalties of his own, a fragment of history within the walls of her former cage. yet as amber meets crystalline hues, thriving in the vibrancy of their union, he is presented with but a whisper of their beginning. let us not forget, she had been restrained for her temper — an agony of the celestials left muffled within lamented shrine.
she could strangle him with her essence, smother him with her silver physique — yet a warmth accompanies her reverting tease as though outplaying him at his own game. ‘ unlikely , you little minx — ’ presence of digits scampers along his jawline, suggestive in their allure — however, a latent deception riles ardyn’s heartbeat. colourless fervor rouses him still, noticeable of her willingness to partake in his amusement. she trifles the caelum, sways his poise with unruly riposte. ‘ and you don’t see yourself as manipulative . hmhm — it flatters you , really … ’ voiceless attraction stimulates intellect. a capricious relish loiters upon his tongue, her cosmogenic lashes fluttering within temporary delirium. how is it that she can modify his answer so easily? ‘ no ’ does not mean ‘ yes ’ and yet — here he is, at her moderation.
“ nonsense, tia —— you know well my compulsion to rise early and attend the people , only in this moment i have been taken out to the shores , to acclimatize myself with the harbours of your … tantrum . ” curvature of voluptuous body, melded with aspiration of palms as she guides his susceptible yearn down the length of her form, protracts difficulty in resistance. ‘ what sweet revenge , for you . ’ breath encounters her neck; a soliloquy of caresses meet in silence along her flesh. lips skim — humbly repentant — and draw conclusion of his gamble to deny.
concise were his efforts to perturb her, a delving prod against her disposition — enough to waive his arduous schedule if but for another morning alone. each day he was subjected to the misfortune of his people, the scourge to dehumanize mankind, he felt himself slipping from her. as such, fingers trail the length of femininity — the caelum stepping aside to hold up her wrist in the calm of gravity. he looms, standing, whilst fingers communicate what eyes suppress. ‘ i never want to let you go . ’
“ return to bed with me , ” he offers, releasing her hand so as to pursue his proposition. ankles flourish in motion, delivering him to the refinement of coverlet with zealous stride. tresses gleam under brilliance of sunlight, courteous to sneak in from a narrowed opening in the curtains. “ perhaps then i shall explore my … ‘ dexterity ’ in braiding a woman’s hair . ” heights descend with smile in tact, limbs draping across mattress’s breadth with devious motivation. linen beckons her, manipulated by buoyant hands as posture rolls beneath lilac velvet. he’s not to amend the knots of her hair, no — he shall make new ones — he’s not to prepare her, restore her for the afternoon to come, no — he is to cup his hands about her depths, tilt his head back, and drink.
i consider anyone who is passionate about ardyn’s character to be a friend. with that, i want both my mutual and non mutual followers to know that you can approach me as though we were more than just acquaintances. if it’s to vent, confide, or simply chat about ffxv, theories, ardyn, astrals or other material-- do so!
i am a legal adult, and will be including content on this blog that is not suitable for all users. posts may contain graphic, sexual, gory, and other explicit subject matter. although most of these will be rare, i should inform you all of the possibility. i will not write adult content with minors, but everything else is welcome and encouraged.
posts will also contain extensive humor and fun. feel free to participate!
triggers will not always be tagged as i am unaware of all content that may prove harmful. i advise you to follow/read/scroll with caution. i will, however, diligently avoid all triggering content within writing. if there is something you cannot write about that may or may not be well known, please inform me. i seek to make my followers and partners comfortable at all times.
i live in a pacific time zone (pt). blog will become less active into the late evening, around 22:00 my time.
hate of any kind will not be tolerated on this blog. that includes, but is not limited to, hate towards ardyn izunia, darin de paul, the rest of the cast and characters of ffxv, hajime tabata, ffxv as a whole, and so forth. you can dislike something. you can have your opinion. but please, be respectful to and of others’ personal views and passions.
responses exceeding 500 words can take anywhere from a week to a few months for me to reply to. i only ask that you be as patient as you can, and forgive my slow pace.
skype, snapchat, and cellphone is available to mutuals only; cellphone exclusive to those i have been in contact with for quite some time, as i have an international phone plan for the purpose of close friendships.
mutual following
do not take offense if i don’t mutually follow you. if i don’t follow you back, that is not because i am uninterested in your blog. instead, i am highly selective with a) the content i wish to see on my dash and b) those i would like to partake in writing with.
even if we interact, i may not follow you back. this includes, but is not limited to, personal blogs following me that have little to no ardyn/ffxv content on their blog, characters who i perceive to be underdeveloped or intrusive (see “writing partners”), and so forth. if you’re uncertain if you fall in this category, please do not hesitate to inquire.
if i follow you, i do not expect you to mutually follow me back if that is not something you are comfortable in doing. however, if we are mutual followers and you unfollow me at a later time, i will be inclined to unfollow you as well. it is very rare that i unfollow someone, but it does happen and generally for a reason.
if you feel our characters have the chance to be the foundation of incredible plots, memes, etc and i still have not followed you back, message me. i always welcome new users. please bear in mind i may decline your suggestion to become mutuals, but i will not do this without reason. it could be something as minor as i already have an exclusive (or mains, plural) for the character you write, or something else more serious such as you partaking in any sort of hate against ffxv or its affiliated characters.
do you write as ardyn? wondering if it's weird to follow another user who portrays the same character? don't worry, i'm as nervous as you are. however, fear not! i am certainly open to chatting ooc / ic with other ardyn writers. if you are to follow me, chances are i will follow in return. the likelihood of me following first is very low as i am hesitant trash but please feel free to contact me. always. a fellow ardyn lover ranks high in my books.
writing partners
it is a rare occasion that i post inbox/starter memes. if you are interested in interacting with my ardyn, the chances of that happening through a starter call is slim (although not impossible if you are a shy individual, most of whom i love and admire). however, i try to frequent the inboxes of writers i am interested in writing with. if i’m not quite confident in directly contacting you, should you see me obsessively liking a majority of your posts, chances are i am intrigued by your character and wish to do something together.
if and when i do post starter calls, plotting calls, open starters and any such other forms of initial interaction, they are reserved for mutuals only. that is, you must be following me if i am to reply to something you reblog. however, non-mutuals are always welcome to send me ooc inbox memes and questions.
you may strike/bludgeon/assault ardyn without asking me first. however, be reasonable. if you’re unsure if you’re crossing a line or godmodding me, please talk to me about it. i would be more than glad to work something out. if you don’t want to ‘spoil’ a surprise you have in store for me within an upcoming reply, such as an attempt on ardyn’s life, you can hint to it as best you can in-character or through messaging.
ardyn is remarkably flamboyant and charismatic, bordering grandiloquent. there could be instances he may allude to flirtation in order to achieve (dis)comfort of those around him. do not read into this as an investment into a platonic or otherwise sexual relationship. i do have individuals i ship with ardyn, and the chances of me stepping out of those select few are very slim. however, if i am exploring something, i will try to make it evidently clear in either my written reply or the tags belonging to it.
i highly recommend keeping an eye on my tag for your url as i frequently tag users in posts i associate with you and/or your character. most posts will be musings of a lighthearted/hilarious nature, but i assure you ‘the feels’ will also make an appearance. example: /tagged/yoururl.
i find it exceedingly difficult to accept threads with original characters. this is not because the creativity behind them is poor, but due to the frequency they intrude on canon. this includes, but is not limited to, being a long lost child of a canon character (especially ardyn), a pre-assumed lover of ardyn's, someone who miraculously carries the same abilities as the lucis bloodline, etc. however, i have seen very talented writers behind original characters that are completely unrelated to the canon plot and have no qualms with them. that is, unless i see it impractical that our characters could fit into one another's universes. for example, ardyn belongs to a fantasy-based reality, but i could not see myself writing with a character from 'adventure time' albeit has 'royals' and so forth.
shipping / mains / exclusives
this blog is ship exclusive, but is not single-ship. what does this mean? well, there are multiple characters i ship with ardyn. however, once a main (and/or exclusive) partner is established, and we agree upon shipping the two of them together, i will not write ship related content with another url who portrays the same character. not all of these roles have been filled/taken, though a select few have. if you are curious as to whether or not i ship ardyn with your character (and do not already write the ship with another url), please contact me. there have been times i don't ship something initially, as i may have never been presented with the idea, but i love development and chemistry.
i have yet to format a mains / exclusives page for myself. however, in the meantime i will make it abundantly clear who possesses which title(s). exclusivity entails that i will not be writing with any other interpretation of the same character, i.e. entirely dedicated to one url. this includes, but is not limited to, sending memes / prompts to other urls who write the same character, answering ic asks from other writers of the same character, and so forth. exclusivity is highly devoting (and also an honor, when approached about it), and may take a long time for me to decide. this requires that i forgo all other interaction with writers who portray the same character as you. however, there are times you find partners who are nothing short of an aesthetic "soul mate", and you may not ever see yourself writing the same level of content / depth with anyone else. this allows us to develop our urls together, and i find it quite beautiful. understand that if you wish to be exclusives, i hold this very personally.
mains are very precious to me. if exclusivity is not for you, as it isn't for everyone, i am more than happy to discuss being mains. i will have more than one main of the same character, typically limited to two and sometimes three if it is a highly popular character (such as noctis). being a main entails that my primary "focus" will be your url when looking for interaction with the character you write. for example, if i am following nine noctis blogs, and am mains with two, the two i am closest with will receive far more of me in their inboxes, sending them prompts, memes, gifsets, and so forth. mains will always be given priority in finishing responses. that is, if i owe six replies (none of which are "mains" of mine), and a main responds (giving me seven replies to finish) i will typically write back to my main first. in no way am i dismissing what i owe to writers not in my list of mains, or discounting any interaction our characters have had thus far, it is simply my loyalties. i take exclusives and mains very seriously, as i find a high level of respect in those titles.
parting notes
do not underestimate your own capability to write. if you are deferring interaction with me out of insecurity, anxiety, or unintended intimidation on my part, i assure you i would enjoy nothing more than conversation. it delights me to my very core when i receive a new follower and/or mutual, so come visit your chancellor if but for an afternoon.
if you prefer ooc introductions first, by all means. i would love to meet the person behind the muse as i find plotting comes more naturally if we familiarize ourselves with one another’s preferences, (dis)comforts, and passions.
take care out there, and watch out for daemons in the night (wink).
millenniums prior to noctis’s birth, two brothers are burdened with the plague of mankind: a daemonization of its innocents known only as the starscourge. ardyn, hallowed as the healer of the people and liberator of this corruption, is chosen by the crystal to purge the world of darkness. while exalted by the task, torturous as it may be, ardyn must now face the anguish of extracting the daemons from eos and encasing them within himself.
among those of the highest prestige in niflheim’s empire, a relationship both artificial and expendable in the eyes of the immortal, ardyn charms the façade of its intensions by taking hold of iedolas’s political matters. a befitting chancellor for an otherwise covetous government, he seizes any and all opportunities to remove distance from himself and the nation of lucis, both on account of ulterior motives and to rekindle that which was his dismal past-- the city of insomnia and the kingdom over which it presides.
following the assassination of regis lucis caelum and niflheim’s successful extraction of the crystal, ardyn’s unforgiving patience begins to reap benefit. clad with imperial authority and recognized internationally under the surname 'izunia', the chancellor employs diligence in arranging coincidental meetings with the late king’s son, noctis, and his companions. with conspicuous generosity, against that which would be expected of an enemy, he lures the young men into the maw of deceit so as to inspire the advent of noctis’s ascension. such charity is not without consequence. nevertheless, in keeping the party uninformed, ardyn’s hostile incentives remain undisclosed.
eos, riddled in darkness as the true king withstands the crystal’s convolution of time, places ardyn in a position of illicit authority. branded a usurper by the ignorance of lucians, he awaits the return of his deliverer; one who provides ardyn’s only means of liberation from the corruption that suffocates his mind and the people he once saved. for 2000 years, ardyn has outlasted the daemons within him; utilizing their morbidity so as to manipulate eos into the starscourge of years past, and formulate his own demise. only in 'the beyond' can noctis fulfill this task, and purge the world of darkness by eliminating his ancestor. whilst situating himself atop the throne, ardyn readily anticipates an uprising over the oncoming years. after all, how could a traitor, an assailant to the caelum family, call himself a king? those who do not know history-- who do not understand ardyn’s origin-- will fear noctis’s absence. the duration of which, at the current time, is unknown.
tragedy takes its course, but can also be suspended upon resurrection. what negligible instances of loyalty ardyn conferred unto eos are limited to his past, his current motives, and only one other-- ravus nox fleuret. curiosity paid homage to the heir of tenebrae, seeing that he renounced all birthrights to take action against the late king regis. thus, the boy’s determination permitted timeless reverence from the immortal as ravus aged. maturing into far more than a mere commander, now forced to the 'guillotine' after the catastrophe of leviathan’s rite, ardyn solicits the infernal divinity of ifrit. imploring that the astral unite with ravus, after having exposed the fleuret to unbearable daemonization out of a selfish desire for affinity between them, and to coerce a battle against noctis, distinguishes fidelity. an affection of this nature, within the accursed, has been unexpressed since the millennium of his betrayal. having ravus returned to his side, diabolical in his restoration, brings ardyn a level of satisfaction formerly unaffiliated with the corrosion of his mind. the infernian will be his and his alone, sheathed within the fleuret whose resilience inspires, if only for the time they have left before the crystal’s champion returns.
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basic information
FULL NAME: ardyn lucis caelum.
ALIAS: ardyn izunia.
LABELS: healer of the people, chancellor, creepy old man, jester, the immortal accursed, usurper.
GENDER: male.
AGE:
BIRTH DATE:
STAR SIGN: gemini.
ETHNICITY: white.
ROMANTIC STATUS: biromantic.
SEXUAL STATUS: gray-asexual, as is capable of feeling sexual attraction but does not actively pursue relationship(s) and/or intercourse.
RELIGION:
SPOKEN LANGUAGE: common tongue, language of the astrals.
OTHER: regis lucis caelum, kin; noctis lucis caelum, kin; ifrit the infernian, astral summon; gentiana, undisclosed; ravus nox fleuret, ambiguous; iedolas aldercapt, emperor.
physical traits
EYE COLOUR: amber, when human; pallid gold with black sclera, when daemonic.
HAIR COLOUR: burgundy, mahogany.
SKIN COLOUR: sun kissed.
HEIGHT: 190cm, 6'3" (rounded).
WEIGHT: 172lbs, 78kg (rounded).
PHYSIQUE: slender, fit.
bestiary
LEVEL: final boss.
HEALTH POINTS: 200'000.
STRENGTH: 4'760.
VITALITY: 164.
SPIRIT: 152.
IMMUNITIES: death, alterna, poison, and stop.
ABILITIES: political influence, phasing, warp-strikes, elemental sorcery, controlling time, illusions, weilding armiger weapons, summoning astrals.
alignment i
NEUTRAL EVIL: characters of this alignment are typically selfish and have no qualms about turning on their allies-of-the-moment. they have no compunctions about harming others to get what they want, but neither will they go out of their way to cause carnage or mayhem when they see no direct benefit to it. they abide by laws for only as long as it is convenient for them. a villain of this alignment can be more dangerous than either lawful or chaotic evil characters, since he is neither bound by any sort of honour or tradition nor disorganised and pointlessly violent. neutral evil characters consider their alignment to be the most valuable as they can advance themselves without regard for others.
in an age long past, benevolence shrouded a once selfless caelum. his compassion for humanity, the people of whom he endeavored to save and protect, rendered ardyn deified in the eyes of the salvaged some two millennia ago. a fateful malady known as the starscourge distorted human existence and mutated people into daemons, the likes of which his brother, not yet chosen by the crystal, was to defend as king. by the gods’ will, ardyn had been chosen: endowed with the ability to eradicate this incurable scourge and restore a ravaged mankind. however, the honor of surpassing his brother in assuming the role of savior, thereby subjecting his body to the arduous strain of hosting myriad daemons, earned an adverse and unanticipated reward.
entrenched jealousy from izunia, in conjunction with distaste among the astrals in witnessing ardyn’s newly ‘tainted’ body, resulted in condemnation for his transgression. deemed impure, ostracized and humiliated by his kin and denied ascension to the astral realms, the gods blighted ardyn with the curse of immortality. millions of lives were spared by his sacrifice; notwithstanding these actions, eternal damnation was bestowed upon the healer. loyalty expelled, ardyn was to suffer the fate of traitors and envy, to live forevermore in a void of betrayal.
time ceased to exist. a deepening hatred of the hypocrisy that forged his hell was all that remained. an eternity passed, and with the once cordial affection for his brother, people, and gods now poisoned by the precipice of his madness, he seeks redemption. donning the alias “ardyn izunia”, his objectives are set into motion as another champion of the crystal arises, thousands of years later. having noctis lucis caelum (cxiv) under exclusive focus, ardyn’s ruthlessness takes a substantial peak. longing for the day on which to battle the true king since his degradation, he reclaims grace, charisma, and scrupulous manipulation as his patience has provided him with a vulnerable target and destined sovereign.
with the niflheim empire’s political operations under ardyn’s discretion as chancellor, and his natural eccentricity magnetizing noctis’s group to his confidence and dubious generosity, the world of eos and its inhabitants have all become a means to an end in extinguishing the blood royal-- both the crystal’s champion, and ultimately, himself.
