servitor | mental link // S72

(They're gone.)

[There's no mental knock this time, only Noctis slipping past the doorway, through the frame itself, like a shadow sliding in. Loss rings prevalently in his mind, a gaping hole where there were people and thoughts and emotions before. It's like his limbs have been severed -- no, it's more than that. A part of his very being, gone missing, lost into the void.

Nyx is still here, though. Nyx is familiar, Nyx is from Eos, Nyx is a member of the Glaive, and Noctis leans into this. Does he feel it, too? Surely he does, how could he not?]

( ... Yeah. Gone. )

[It's different. It hurts almost as much if not more than losing his sister, losing Crowe, and that's what gets him here too. He hadn't known Annie and Annabeth particularly well, outside of being attached at the brain.

But it's a missing nothingness. A void. Not even vacuum. It's simply ceased to be where something once was.]

( What now? )

[He's at a loss here. What is there to do? The obvious answer is carry on, as he's always done, as he always will. He knows that's not going to cut it.]

[Unfortunate the lightest part of this story is laden with dark history. So it goes.]

After we ran from the Citadel, we made it to the garage. [If he could even call it that. More of a warehouse of modern-day cars protected by the kings and queens of old. Talk about high security.] I'd already been driving that car when I picked up the Princess, might as well, right? It got us out and it got us far but uh. It didn't really make after the Nifs dropped their machines on us. We took a jump off a bridge, got us between two buildings and somehow managed to make it out alive. [A beat.] I might have driven it between the buildings before it finally fell to the floor.

[In reverse. After telling the Princess to get out of the car into an open window. But before throwing himself out into another window. These are all crucial details that he decides to leave out because it already sounds ridiculous enough when he's retelling it.]

Lunafreya is a hell of a driver, I can tell you that much.

( Maybe they'll finally believe it. )

[Annie wouldn't give a damn to get the others in on it, but he would've counted on her to at least bully others into submission somehow. He doesn't try to focus on that emptiness too much right now. There's the bigger issue at hand that didn't allow for grief in this moment.]

( I haven't exactly gotten on everyone's best side so I don't think anyone will listen to me. I might know one or two, though. )

[He knows Noctis will follow through, Lucina as well. Aloy, he imagines, would understand immediately. Asuka he couldn't predict outside of she'd probably not share to the people who needed to hear it the most.]

( What are the odds they won't take that badly either? They're not getting it directly, they're getting it with a side of 'he said, she said.' I haven't seen anything lately that would make me trust even that route. )

(I don't...)

[Know. He doesn't know. What is one supposed to do, faced with a cavernous hole in their minds? A space that only Annie and Annabeth could fill, and to think that it might ever be something that heals does nothing but a disservice to them. Outwardly, he shakes his head, doubt ringing throughout their link.

Noctis does his best to push it aside. Loss is a good friend of his, something that he's grown close to recently, whether he likes it or not. He thinks back to Insomnia, the sun forever obscured by darkness, and in that bleakness, he had still told the others to keep pressing forward. To walk tall.

Maybe this is the same? He wants to sound confident, but it wavers. The loss is still too raw.]

(There's nothing we can do. I just didn't know it would feel...)

[This way.]

(Are you going to be okay?)

[That's one way to darken the mood, though Noctis doesn't expect it to stay light for much longer. If he were to be honest, he had no real attachment to that car. Yeah, it was cool, and it was fast -- but it wasn't the Regalia. The sentimentality wasn't there, and he's only glad that it served as a literal vehicle for Nyx and Lunafreya's escape.

Speaking of Luna, though, he blinks at Nyx with surprise.]

What, really?

Yeah.

[He'd been surprised for about half a second himself, but it took the next half second to get into survival mode.]

Your fiancee? She's got a lot of tricks up her sleeve. She's a fighter if I'd ever seen one. Smart as hell, too.

[Maybe clever is the better word. She'd single-handedly conned Lazarus into putting on the Ring when she'd been cornered. That was the end of his former comrade.

And that might be a tinge of admiration and pride in there for the Princess. He could say, without a doubt, he wouldn't have gotten near as far if she wasn't helping and pulling the weight she didn't need to pull.]

Really doesn't like to pull her punches.

[Somehow, despite his initial surprise, Noctis won't discount a word of it. Luna always had a strength about her, an unshakeable core, that he always looked up to. A dignity that he hoped to wield himself, one day. There's fondness there, adorned with grief. He misses her -- but he misses everyone from his home. (Well. Almost everyone.)]

You know, somehow that doesn't surprise me in the least. It's not a side I ever got to see with her -- not a side I ever will get to see -- but. She was always so strong. Gentle, but determined.

( I'm used to it. )

[Not the mental hole, the loss. He'd learned over the years how to detach from physical pain. It takes shape now as the white coeurls of Galahd, in an effort to try and not let him fall prey to the loss that keeps coming back time and again. But that beast won't leave the holes in the head.

Help me!

Nyx forces himself to refocus, forces that coeurl to turn back in the direction of the conversation. Where he felt like he could get lost in the unending chaos of Annie's galaxy, he's sure he could get lost in the blackness of his mind.]

( You? )

(I'm used to it, too.)

[There's no flippancy in reflecting the response back. Noctis isn't so cruel. It's nothing but sincerity, and trusting in Nyx to be honest. He hears the voice of someone he doesn't recognize in the distance, or at least, he thinks he does -- but the question that follows is smothered by the sting of having lost two broodmates in one day.]

(Aren't we a happy pair.)

[But he will try to force levity, dry and biting, into the conversation. It falls flat, but at least an attempt was made.]

(I'm tired of losing people, Nyx. I was born to save others, and circumstances won't even let me do that much.)

[He's tired, he's raw. He isn't even exasperated enough to feel sorry for himself; it's stating a fact, plain and simple.]

Can't say I ever got see much of that gentle side myself. Too busy trying to run from Drautos and the Nifs to have a conversation.

[Though she did stay at his side after he'd been shot. She could've run for cover.

Nyx scoffs softly. He's taken hit after hit but he's gotten back up every time. He doesn't really try to let it weigh him down, but now, so far from Lucis and the war, he's realizing how much crap they'd been thrown at, and how survival was its own win.]

We're one for bad stories, aren't we?

( Where are you? )

[It's compiling now, feeling the rawness from Noctis, and having his own rawness starting to surface. He hadn't even mourned Crowe. He hadn't even been able to give her a burial. She didn't get the accolades she deserved for her death.

And now two holes are in his brain, like bullets. The purples of his swirling mind mix with black like a slab of marble, like a storm slowly churning. If he's lightning in a bottle, there's thunder too, not quite the sound, but the feeling of thunder. The slow roll of the inevitable. The oncoming of what could bring them down.

He misses his sister. He misses his mother. He misses Crowe and even Libertus, though he's still alive as far as he knows. The stupid Nest, pulling at his heart in a way that it shouldn't be pulled.]

[The both of them, having seen different sides of Luna. He smiles a little at the idea, as if they're further connected by that singular, luminous thread, passing from one life to the other.]

Bad stories... yeah, something like that.

[His story didn't get its proper end yet, did it? It was going to be a happy one for Eos. It should have been.]

Only fair that I share my side, if you still want to know. If you have a question, then shoot.

[The image and sensation of soft soil under his shoes stutters through the link. An almost childish, stubborn focus on the small details around him, as if to distract from everything else for the time being.]

(I'm in the gardens.)

[He doesn't mean to push his own vulnerabilities onto Nyx, the way he's doing now. He's both unaware and has no ability to control it, and if told, Noctis would've tried to coil up within himself. Try to rein it in, because he didn't want to burden the man with too much. He would recover, he had to. It's the reason why he's picked a quiet, peaceful place in the Circle Gardens -- to shift his thoughts around, hoping that they'll settle back into something resembling confidence again.]

What is there to know? You said everything when dark, right? How'd that happen?

[Better to move on and past, to whatever lies ahead beyond his death.]

[No man is an island. It's what he would say, if he knew the reactions. Whatever they do or don't have, the only way to go forward is to stop for a moment before you fall apart at a bad time.

Nyx, without a word, disappears from the link, trying to focus more on finding the gardens again. He'd been a few times, but he wouldn't claim to know the ship like the back of his hand already. There's more than one way to get around.

The sweatpants he wears now are a dark gray, fitted and tapered compared to the other pants he'd been wearing. He's foregone the Glaive shirt in favor of a white v neck shirt. He doesn't walk too fast, nor does he get too close when he finds Noctis. Nyx had always made it a point to be there physically, when he could, for his own comrades. Noctis isn't an exception.]

[Straight to it, then. Noctis wish he felt more prepared to explain, but he probably never will be.]

The Starscourge. After... Luna's death, there was nothing left to stop the nights from growing longer.

[A beat. He sets his hands in his lap, so Nyx can't see the way the threads them together in a tell of anxiety. Otherwise, he keeps his eyes trained on the man.]

You remember Chancellor Izunia?

[It's hard to know if Noctis knows Nyx is there immediately, or if it takes a moment for the realization to dawn on him. Regardless, he reaches out with his mind once more. It's a tenuous thing.]

(I'm fine, you know.)

[He's seated on a bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Looking at the ground, grinding the heel of his shoe into the dirt much like a child would.]

You didn't have to stop by.

[When actual words are spoken, he turns his head to look where Nyx stands. Even if he isn't dressed in his Glaive uniform, he'd recognize the man anywhere just by the way he carries himself.]

I didn't have to do a lot of things but I did them anyway.

[Not flippant, just a statement of facts.]

You don't have to pretend to be fine. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Lunafreya: you don't have to put on that brave king act. I'm not here to measure you on how much you can put up with.

[And he knows, oh he knows, that without an outlet, everything will inevitably fall apart. Slowly, Nyx begins to saunter towards Noctis, though he chooses to stand instead of sit.]

The day the Nifs attacked my home was the day my sister died. You probably heard her voice in the link. I signed up for the Glaive the next day. My best friend Libertus and I? We were the poster boys. We were some of the first refugees and Galahdians to sign up and be accepted into the Glaive. But I was a mess those days. You'd think it was just the one picture in the newspaper, but it was everywhere. I can't even remember the training and the prereqs before we were let in. Everything was automatic. I might've been better to myself and my mother if I had just stopped for a second.

[He doesn't regret signing up, not at all, but it took what was left of the Ulrics weeks to finally get themselves together and make something of a service for Selene. He doesn't go much into it, but the melancholy is evident in the link, purples simmering to dark blues. He tries to hone in on his imaginary friend the couerl, anchors himself to it like it's what's going to keep him from slipping back into darker days. Hard enough having to run away from home, hard enough having to live in a place that didn't really want you, hard enough having nothing to show for your losses except whatever clothing you had on your back.]

You're not going to do anyone good by putting up with it and sucking it all in. We feel it too. Give yourself a day or two, maybe even three. You say we don't have time but you'll hurt yourself and someone else if you don't work out what's going on. [A beat.] They deserve better than pretending. Annie yelled at me enough about how she could only let you be the soft one to her. I'm pretty sure we got into an argument about arguing whether or not I should give a damn about her because she got enough from you.

Izunia? Yeah, I remember him. We'd been told to keep a small watch on him. He was in Insomnia the day it was bombed, no surprise there.

[He'd never really met the man, but he'd seen enough of him in the news and heard enough of him in the reports. Something never fit right, but what it was Nyx couldn't say. He'd joke and say it was the bad taste in fashion.]

Edited 2017-07-06 16:19 (UTC)

[Something bristles in Noctis when Nyx tells him that he doesn't have to pretend to be fine. It isn't his pride crying foul (he hasn't the energy for such a thing), nor is it some wayward sense of shame. It's only that pretending, for the majority of his life, was all he knew. Pretending to be more mature than he was, pretending to be fine watching his father's energy drain more and more each year, keeping the Wall up to protect Insomnia. Pretending he wasn't going to feel in over his head after inheriting a kingdom, a war. Pretending to be more than he ever felt he truly was.

Only recently did he learn to step out of that shell, to find comfort in not retreating within himself so far that it crystallized into stifling ennui. But it's easy to shrink back into old habits when faced with loss too sudden to comprehend. Easy to comfortably retreat back into that shell and pretend again, until all of his emotions felt like they were in their correct places -- whatever that happened to be.

But he doesn't respond, not just yet. He lets Nyx talk, and while he's been good with keeping eye contact with the man in every conversation up until now, he just can't seem to find his gaze this time. His eyes settle on somewhere nondescript, to the side and below. The Glaive, had experienced too much, too fast, as well; casualties of war, feeling the need to keep moving in the face of loss. The insight is unexpected, but... quietly appreciated.]

I don't care if you give a damn about me or not. [He frowns at his wording, realizing it didn't convey what he wanted. Noctis tries again.] I don't mind if you do, is what I mean. I'm actually grateful, even though I know it doesn't look like it.

[He clenches his hand into a loose fist, looking at the Ring adorning his finger.] That last night in Insomnia -- the one I remember -- I had accepted what I was, finally. A King, the shortest reigning one in Lucian history, probably. [A scoff, humorless, but with a faint twisting of sad, lopsided grin. It fades, as quickly as it had arrived.]

The grief of... everything I had lost, I twisted it into acceptance and motivation. The strength and stubbornness to end the darkness, to see it all through to the end. It was fuel for the fire, and for once I actually felt like I was living up to the role destiny threw at my feet. I had a use. A purpose. [A beat.] But here... sometimes that motivation feels too hard to hold onto, you know? And then I feel like I've rewound ten years -- no, twenty even. I'm just a kid who doesn't know what to do with himself, anymore. I'm supposed to lead. I'm supposed to walk tall, and be strong.

[He drops his hand.] I just feel tired.

Edited 2017-07-07 01:27 (UTC)

[Noctis would laugh if he heard the joke regarding the bad fashion. Yes, he'd agree with that wholeheartedly.]

You should've kept more than a small watch on him.

[Wry, but ultimately a useless comment. No one could've seen his plan unravel from that far out; no one had possessed that foresight.]

His loyalties were never with Niflheim -- he was just using them, ultimately, to further his agenda. [His expression hardens.] He's the one who brought the darkness... ten years of it. The daemons. All for revenge on the world, and revenge on the Lucis Caelum line.

[He scoffs lightly, glancing down to the ground, to the pristine walkways between dirt and flowers and plants.]

Yeah. Me too.

[Nyx settles now to sit next to him, though he faces the opposite direction. It's not that he's feeling sorry for himself. It's that it's hard to find what's next when the next has been put off indefinitely. The only next is to survive to get to the other next.]

I wish I could tell you what to do, I really do. But I can't do that for you. Sometimes you really are just nothing compared to what's coming. [It's what he thinks of himself, at least, in the grand scheme of things. Nyx saw himself as a piece to get everything going in the right direction. There had never been any notions of destiny, only duty to the next generation, and the one after that.] Strength isn't in how well you hold on to your emotions. Strength is in what you do after those emotions fall.

[Nyx lets his head hang back. The grief washes over him for a few moments. It's one of the things he had used too. He fought to never feel helpless. He fights to protect those who can't protect themselves. And now he fights to make sure there's a future to get back to.]

Make your own destiny, Noctis. It's all you've got here. That destiny you're talking about? It'll be there when you get back. Right now? You've got all of this at your feet. You can keep using that loss, but don't let it eat you up. It's going to take you places you don't want to go. [Now he actually glances over to Noctis.] And you're going to lose yourself.

[He's seen it, too many times. In the eyes of his comrades. In the eyes of the people he's saved. In the refugees piling into lines to get into the city. In the people denied entrance for some arbitrary reason. Beyond the walls of Insomnia is a world full of hurt and people falling into the hurt because it was the easy way out.]

Don't be something you're not. No one cares if you're a king or a beggar here. Just do your job. We'll get through it. I promise we will.

That guy brought ten years of darkness? [If Nyx sounds skeptical, it's because he thinks that's absolutely batshit fucking insane.

He exhales loudly, scrubs his face.] That guy sure sounds like he knows how to hold a grudge. [Revenge on the world really sounds melodramatic to whatever it could've been. Then again, he's not exactly privy to the royal stories and legends. Who knows what the Lucis Caelums did to royally piss off a man with tattered clothing.]

[He laces his hands together, to stop the fidgeting. Fingertips brush against the cool surface of the Ring as he takes in everything that Nyx has to say, letting grief wash over grief. He doesn't try to keep it at bay; it laughably feels a bit like of a default state to him, right now.

Making his own destiny here, is that what it would come down to? Ripping himself away, even if only temporarily, of what the Astrals had written for him. It felt wrong, though he hates to admit it to himself -- he knows that he's just a plaything of a prophecy, and that he should celebrate the reprieve from carrying its weight.

But tell that to the guilt, threatening to override this sense of freedom. His duty, torn asunder, screaming at him, What about Eos? What of the world in darkness? Of all your friends? All the ones you've lost? You've left them, abandoned them. For what? You can't save anyone here. You don't even know what you're doing.

Noctis closes his eyes, biting all of this back.]

Don't make promises you can't keep, Nyx.

[Cynicism bleeds out, sharp at the edges. It always does, when he's like this.]

But I'll try. [Silence again, before he turns his head just enough to look at the Glaive next to him.] If my title doesn't mean anything here, then yours shouldn't either.

[He's not disparaging. He's offering a release of responsibility, if Nyx wants it. He doesn't know if he would or not.] I appreciate you talking to me, but you're not obligated. It's like you said, we're just two people trying to do our jobs. You have enough to worry about as it is, than to come out here, making sure your King isn't falling apart.

DIASPEIREIN To scatter, spread about.	MELIORISM The belief that the world gets better.
ORIFLAMME A symbol or standard that inspires confidence, devotion, or courage.	VANGUARD The troops moving at the head of an army.

mental link // S72

D55

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this got long?

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