[And this is the point of contention here. Ignis never turns off. He's always on duty, always respectable, always so painfully polite. It's the kind of thing that marks Nyx and his fellows so strongly as other.
It's a cultural difference. When they're off duty they're simple men with simple tastes. They fight and flirt and fool around. It might not be dignified but it's human and it unsettles most of them how proper these damn Lucians are all the time.]
I'll give you that, at least. There's an awful lot around here's that's pretty.
[He smirks as he says it, pale gaze flicking from the dagger in Ignis' hand up to his face, not to catch his eye but to appraise the cut of his jaw, the swell of his lips, and then his gaze drifts slowly back down.
It's like baiting a coeurl, he just can't help fucking with the kid sometimes.]
Difficult not to be much else. [He is, perhaps, ten years Nyx's junior--that would make Nyx, what, not quite yet thirty? Really. A grown man ought know better. Perhaps Nyx has never seen all of the boys together, the way they can be crude as only teenagers truly can. Which is not, however, the same as being immune to overt flirtation.
He parts his lips, as if to say something, but does not. Well. If this is going to turn into some kind of lesson about letting himself go, to be slightly more instinctual and reckless as only a Galahdian can be, why not start now? The blade flips in his hand, and Ignis presses the butt of the dagger under Nyx's chin to lift it, and subsequently, his gaze.]
A diplomat, that is. The pretty, too, but that's a matter you'll have to take up with my genetics.
[He's all set to comment on that. Yeah, difficult not to just live, breathe, and bleed duty around here. But then Ignis makes his move and it's such an abrupt shift, so bold, brazen even, yet still perfectly classy and the words slip away.
It had been a joke, up until the moment that cool metal pressed under his jaw and suddenly it's something else all together, something hot and fierce flickering through that silvery gaze. He swallows hard, presses into the metal of the dagger, licks his lips and tries to remember what he was going to say.
Fuck, he's got 10 years on this kid, he should definitely not be so far gone so easily. He laughs, soft and breathless and it's not nearly as dismissive as he'd meant it to be but it's something.]
Ya got balls, I'll give you that.
[It's a calculated risk but still a risk all the same.]
That's a start. [And totally what he'd meant to get out of this, Ignis crossing lines and ignoring propriety. That's the goal. Yeah. Nothing to do with the sudden spark of heat in his blood. Fuck.]
[The air around them has changed. It's palpable, and there's a narrowing to Ignis' eyes like he might be able to see it. But it's not around them, is it? No, he can see something in Nyx's eyes. Was this a mistake or a step in the right direction? Depends on who you ask. Nyx licks his lips, and Ignis...finally looks away and takes the dagger with him. He doesn't clear his throat as if to clear the air, but it's a near thing. He's not nervous or worried or overwhelmed. He's not feeling the spark of something incredibly inappropriate. Of course not.]
I like to think that I've never lacked for courage. I simply don't- [And here he pulls the blade back, lets it go in a deadly spin. He does not zip after it in blue light, but allows it to strike home, sticking out of a wooden beam, handle vibrating from the force.] -fling myself heedlessly into the uncaring void of battle.
[Ignis breaks the contact, looks away and Nyx finally feels like he can pull in a full breath. For a moment he's grateful but then he's mad a beat later, frustrated with exactly how difficult Ignis is to read.
Serpent cursed fucking Lucians.]
's not heedless. It's called following your gut.
[Perhaps a little harsher than is strictly necessary. But the way he dismisses the courage and strength of so many of the Glaives only adds to the spark of heat, denied the opportunity to follow desired and so turned back around into something irritated and angry.]
Once you are in a battle, there's no telling what will happen. You can't plan for the details and must move accordingly. [He rises from where he's sat to follow the path of his blade. The air seems much less electrified over here, easier to breathe.] And I've no doubt that the Kingsglaive as a whole has an uncanny ability to move together as one like a well-oiled machine.
Don't mistake me, sir, I recognize that there is a time and a place. But you can't expect me to do everything on gut instinct; that's hardly going to work out in your favor in every fight.
Pretty sure there's a helluva lot more times and places than you think, Ignis.
[But maybe not this one. He might've overestimated himself here, or rather underestimated Ignis. Now the notion's there niggling at the back of his mind it changes the way he looks at the younger man. Not just how he considers him but literally the way he watches Ignis move is a little different, a touch more predatory than it had been.
When he stands to retrieve his dagger Nyx's eyes follow, watching the movement curiously, following the motion of his hips, the way he carries himself, the span of his shoulders...
It's a dangerous line of thought and Nyx is far too good at holding people at a distance to really consider it seriously, never mind the rules they'd be breaking... but damn if he can pull his gaze away.]
[The charged atmosphere isn't gone entirely, of course, and there's a delightful double meaning to Nyx's words. Ignis grabs hold of the dagger, and in a flash of crystal, stores it back in the armiger rather than pull it out of the wood.
He feels the eyes on him. It's a particularly strange feeling, he finds. Noctis gets all the attention wherever they go, as he should as the crown prince of the kingdom. Nobody pays attention to the servants, the chauffeurs, the bodyguards, the help, not if they don't have some official title and are part of King Regis' inner circle. Most of the time, Ignis passes by relatively unnoticed. There's no avoiding being the center of attention when they are the only two people in the room, but it's more than that.
He glances over his shoulder to catch that gaze.] I imagine you'd like to show me some examples. You are, after all, to teach me.
[The flicker of blue light is just Ignis showing off. The rest of the Glaive doesn't have access to his Majesty's armiger and it's one thing that Ignis has over on them.
Or maybe Nyx is just jealous.]
Oh I can show you plenty.
[A shrug, all confidence and bravado and not at all distracted by the sly look over his shoulder, the flicker of that breathtaking green gaze over an equally fantastic ass. Godsdammit.]
But I dunno if I can teach you exactly, some of it's just instinct. You've either got it or you don't.
But perhaps this is a reason you were intended to be my mentor. A learning experience for the both of us. I find out if I've got this ethereal got-it-or-don't quality you seek in Glaives, and I, in turn, teach you a little something of patience, hm?
...Not- [With quickly dropped eyes and a humbled little bow of his head.] -that I would presume to teach a renowned member of the Kingsglaive anything he does not already need to know.
Ah. So it's fine for me to suggest that you're impulsive, brash, impatient, and some of your acts of defiance come off as immature and as a desperate need to prove yourself despite your status?
[Two can smirk in this game.]
And not, then, apologize for such remarks? Truly remarkable, I'd say.
[He grins and this time he finally stands, moves closer to Ignis' space. One brow cocks and he tilts his head with a shrug. ]
Think what you want, not gonna argue most of it.
But I don't have to prove shit to anyone.
[He never asked for the title of "hero" and if you don't hear the derision in that when even his friends use it then Ignis you're not as good at politicking as he thought.]
[The only movement Ignis does is to turn fully around. Back grazing the beam behind him but by no means slouching. Heavens forbid.]
No. I suppose you don't. And yet-- [He raises a hand as if to indicate...himself, or more generally, people like him.] Lucians. Givimg you a new home, but always looking down their noses at you.
[That's less personal observation of Nyx himself and more the general countenance of those given refuge under the Wall. Grumblings at the market, frustrated tones sitting outside cafes. He raises his own challenging brow.] There's always someone to prove yourself to.
I can see why His Majesty likes you so much. Even if, at times, you may induce a headache. [An easy smile. Or at least easy as far as Ignis' guarded nature allows.] And I can fully see why you get the respect from you fellow officers. Perhaps this little matchup wasn't a mistake after all.
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hardbargain) wrote2018-11-08 08:23 pm
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[And this is the point of contention here. Ignis never turns off. He's always on duty, always respectable, always so painfully polite. It's the kind of thing that marks Nyx and his fellows so strongly as other.
It's a cultural difference. When they're off duty they're simple men with simple tastes. They fight and flirt and fool around. It might not be dignified but it's human and it unsettles most of them how proper these damn Lucians are all the time.]
I'll give you that, at least. There's an awful lot around here's that's pretty.
[He smirks as he says it, pale gaze flicking from the dagger in Ignis' hand up to his face, not to catch his eye but to appraise the cut of his jaw, the swell of his lips, and then his gaze drifts slowly back down.
It's like baiting a coeurl, he just can't help fucking with the kid sometimes.]
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He parts his lips, as if to say something, but does not. Well. If this is going to turn into some kind of lesson about letting himself go, to be slightly more instinctual and reckless as only a Galahdian can be, why not start now? The blade flips in his hand, and Ignis presses the butt of the dagger under Nyx's chin to lift it, and subsequently, his gaze.]
A diplomat, that is. The pretty, too, but that's a matter you'll have to take up with my genetics.
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It had been a joke, up until the moment that cool metal pressed under his jaw and suddenly it's something else all together, something hot and fierce flickering through that silvery gaze. He swallows hard, presses into the metal of the dagger, licks his lips and tries to remember what he was going to say.
Fuck, he's got 10 years on this kid, he should definitely not be so far gone so easily. He laughs, soft and breathless and it's not nearly as dismissive as he'd meant it to be but it's something.]
Ya got balls, I'll give you that.
[It's a calculated risk but still a risk all the same.]
That's a start. [And totally what he'd meant to get out of this, Ignis crossing lines and ignoring propriety. That's the goal. Yeah. Nothing to do with the sudden spark of heat in his blood. Fuck.]
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I like to think that I've never lacked for courage. I simply don't- [And here he pulls the blade back, lets it go in a deadly spin. He does not zip after it in blue light, but allows it to strike home, sticking out of a wooden beam, handle vibrating from the force.] -fling myself heedlessly into the uncaring void of battle.
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Serpent cursed fucking Lucians.]
's not heedless. It's called following your gut.
[Perhaps a little harsher than is strictly necessary. But the way he dismisses the courage and strength of so many of the Glaives only adds to the spark of heat, denied the opportunity to follow desired and so turned back around into something irritated and angry.]
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Don't mistake me, sir, I recognize that there is a time and a place. But you can't expect me to do everything on gut instinct; that's hardly going to work out in your favor in every fight.
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[But maybe not this one. He might've overestimated himself here, or rather underestimated Ignis. Now the notion's there niggling at the back of his mind it changes the way he looks at the younger man. Not just how he considers him but literally the way he watches Ignis move is a little different, a touch more predatory than it had been.
When he stands to retrieve his dagger Nyx's eyes follow, watching the movement curiously, following the motion of his hips, the way he carries himself, the span of his shoulders...
It's a dangerous line of thought and Nyx is far too good at holding people at a distance to really consider it seriously, never mind the rules they'd be breaking... but damn if he can pull his gaze away.]
no subject
He feels the eyes on him. It's a particularly strange feeling, he finds. Noctis gets all the attention wherever they go, as he should as the crown prince of the kingdom. Nobody pays attention to the servants, the chauffeurs, the bodyguards, the help, not if they don't have some official title and are part of King Regis' inner circle. Most of the time, Ignis passes by relatively unnoticed. There's no avoiding being the center of attention when they are the only two people in the room, but it's more than that.
He glances over his shoulder to catch that gaze.] I imagine you'd like to show me some examples. You are, after all, to teach me.
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Or maybe Nyx is just jealous.]
Oh I can show you plenty.
[A shrug, all confidence and bravado and not at all distracted by the sly look over his shoulder, the flicker of that breathtaking green gaze over an equally fantastic ass. Godsdammit.]
But I dunno if I can teach you exactly, some of it's just instinct. You've either got it or you don't.
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But perhaps this is a reason you were intended to be my mentor. A learning experience for the both of us. I find out if I've got this ethereal got-it-or-don't quality you seek in Glaives, and I, in turn, teach you a little something of patience, hm?
...Not- [With quickly dropped eyes and a humbled little bow of his head.] -that I would presume to teach a renowned member of the Kingsglaive anything he does not already need to know.
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Nyx starts out smirking and then laughs, low and throaty, grinning at Ignis.]
Oh cut the bullshit, Scientia. We're not in a council chamber. If you're gonna talk shit do it and don't apologize for it.
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[Two can smirk in this game.]
And not, then, apologize for such remarks? Truly remarkable, I'd say.
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[He grins and this time he finally stands, moves closer to Ignis' space. One brow cocks and he tilts his head with a shrug. ]
Think what you want, not gonna argue most of it.
But I don't have to prove shit to anyone.
[He never asked for the title of "hero" and if you don't hear the derision in that when even his friends use it then Ignis you're not as good at politicking as he thought.]
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No. I suppose you don't. And yet-- [He raises a hand as if to indicate...himself, or more generally, people like him.] Lucians. Givimg you a new home, but always looking down their noses at you.
[That's less personal observation of Nyx himself and more the general countenance of those given refuge under the Wall. Grumblings at the market, frustrated tones sitting outside cafes. He raises his own challenging brow.] There's always someone to prove yourself to.
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[He's not Libertus. He wears his tatts and his braids with pride, he keeps his altar and swears by the Serpent. That's enough for him.]
Good enough for the King, the rest of 'em can fuck off.
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