He's right to catch Nyx's arm, only just barely stopping him from taking off with a warp. More than just the Fall, more than just encouraging Drautos' madness. The emperor himself a puppet? What kind of man was this bastard?
As Noctis speaks Nyx is cataloging the words and it's awful but it's nothing that really shakes him. It's good to see those hints of Regis in Noctis, in the set of his jaw, the weight of his brow. His features are finer, more delicate than his father's but convey a similar sort of somberness when he needs to. A nod, firm and understanding as Noctis continues. At least he thinks he does. A puppet himself of this grand destiny Lunafreya spoke of perhaps, then. Or the orchestrator of it.
Turned Ravus into a monster.
He is bound by the past and lost in his lust for power.
Perhaps not so hard to turn a man like that into a monster. Especially after the price the ring exacted from him. Then Noctis speaks that final crime and Nyx reacts as though he were struck a physical blow. Silver eyes widen and he gasps hard enough to choke on his next breath, staggering back from the door.
Lunafreya. After everything he'd done to protect her, everything he'd learned, how much she meant to the world, the future she was meant to bring about. Her solemn determination. Everything about her, everything she stood for. She had reframed his entire way of thinking in one night, given him purpose again after years without it, given him hope even as he bartered away his life.
There's a sheen in his eyes that has nothing to do with the hot, violet light of Lucian magic that flares in them as he steadies himself. Somewhere he's distantly aware of Latro reaching out to Squall, jumbled words of pain and panic making it through to Griever. He killed her. Lunafreya- After everything- She's gone. Geddah, he killed her. Help.
He collects himself just enough to shoot a glance at Noctis, eyes falling not on his king but the ring on his hand. The ring that Lunafreya had given everything to protect, that had ruined Ravus, that had been the thing that had brought Regis' death as soon as it passed out of his hands.
"Stewards of the future..." Murmured under his breath, lip curling in disdain for those old kings as much as for the man that had carried out their godsforsaken destiny. Finally, he meets Noctis' gaze, lips trembling ever so slightly with an agonized rage. "She was that future." Noctis won't understand, not fully, of course but the sentiment, the pain and anguish in his voice conveys all he needs it to.
One hand clasps around the hilt of the kukri at his back, teeth bared in a snarl that becomes a shout, something between a battle cry and a scream of rage. Then that blade vanishes into the distance and so does he.
no subject
As Noctis speaks Nyx is cataloging the words and it's awful but it's nothing that really shakes him. It's good to see those hints of Regis in Noctis, in the set of his jaw, the weight of his brow. His features are finer, more delicate than his father's but convey a similar sort of somberness when he needs to. A nod, firm and understanding as Noctis continues. At least he thinks he does. A puppet himself of this grand destiny Lunafreya spoke of perhaps, then. Or the orchestrator of it.
Turned Ravus into a monster.
He is bound by the past and lost in his lust for power.
Perhaps not so hard to turn a man like that into a monster. Especially after the price the ring exacted from him. Then Noctis speaks that final crime and Nyx reacts as though he were struck a physical blow. Silver eyes widen and he gasps hard enough to choke on his next breath, staggering back from the door.
Lunafreya. After everything he'd done to protect her, everything he'd learned, how much she meant to the world, the future she was meant to bring about. Her solemn determination. Everything about her, everything she stood for. She had reframed his entire way of thinking in one night, given him purpose again after years without it, given him hope even as he bartered away his life.
There's a sheen in his eyes that has nothing to do with the hot, violet light of Lucian magic that flares in them as he steadies himself. Somewhere he's distantly aware of Latro reaching out to Squall, jumbled words of pain and panic making it through to Griever. He killed her. Lunafreya- After everything- She's gone. Geddah, he killed her. Help.
He collects himself just enough to shoot a glance at Noctis, eyes falling not on his king but the ring on his hand. The ring that Lunafreya had given everything to protect, that had ruined Ravus, that had been the thing that had brought Regis' death as soon as it passed out of his hands.
"Stewards of the future..." Murmured under his breath, lip curling in disdain for those old kings as much as for the man that had carried out their godsforsaken destiny. Finally, he meets Noctis' gaze, lips trembling ever so slightly with an agonized rage. "She was that future." Noctis won't understand, not fully, of course but the sentiment, the pain and anguish in his voice conveys all he needs it to.
One hand clasps around the hilt of the kukri at his back, teeth bared in a snarl that becomes a shout, something between a battle cry and a scream of rage. Then that blade vanishes into the distance and so does he.