what you're given, what you live in

[fatedfinality]

Darling, it finds a way to live in you

Who: Ardyn & You
What: A catch-all log for Ardyn and the various shit he's bound to get up to outside of events (so: quests, misc. interactions, etc.)
Where: All around Town
When: The last months of 2024

Warnings: Blanket warnings for suicidal ideation, self-harm tendencies, alcoholism, and others that will be specific to the threads and noted in the subject line!

code

Comments

⇝ chicken catastrophe. (absinthe)

[fatedfinality]

Pursuant to his rebranding as a "moral upstanding citizen," Ardyn's been finding ways to help out about Town. He starts simple. That's the smart thing to do, right? Ease into things, show he's really trying to start somewhere and do better. That would work for the average person, probably, but Ardyn is a walking contradictory disaster on even the best of days.

When he's told not to fuck with the chickens, who could blame him for wanting to do exactly that? By telling him not to, they were practically asking for it to be guaranteed he would. But he can't just attack them- That'd be too abrupt, too obvious. No, he needs to figure out a way to spin this so it's also not just him causing problems on purpose. His new imagine is at stake and all.

"Do you really think they're all that dangerous?" he asks his quest partner, idly. A chicken is currently roosting atop his head in place of his usual hat. Another, he holds loosely in folded arms. They don't seem like anything to be especially scared of if something were to happen. If. When. Same difference, in the end.

yeehaw it's chicken time

[amaratha]

When she'd seen who had shown up at the farm to do this gig with her there was definitely a moment of sizing Ardyn up, the alleged multi-murderer, and whether it was dangerous for her to be around him. But man, what evil can you do on a chicken farm. On the list of opportunities to get to know what this guy's deal is, this is a pretty good one- even though they're in Town now, it still works out, there's plenty of witnesses.

“Well, what would you say to that if it was about you?” Absinthe quips, her voice jovially teasing as she pokes at the subject. She's curious about that about him, and to further make her point, she lifts up her own recaptured chicken (sitting in a box) so that it's side by side with Ardyn when she looks at them both. It's an extremely contrived reason to compare Ardyn Izunia to a chicken, but she's got a 17 in Charisma so maybe it'll come off as charming instead of offensive.

“But honestly, the farmer was probably exaggerating, he probably doesn't understand magic and thinks it's all scary.” Lowering her chicken-in-a-box back down, she adds, “they seem to really like you!”

She thinks it's kind of cute, actually!

[fatedfinality]

One might be surprised the kind of evil that Ardyn can get up to. Especially when he's bored, which- He's been doing his best to keep himself preoccupied. These little errands they call quests are a nice way to fill up some time. When he doesn't need to sleep or eat or... anything, really, it does start to get a bit droll. He's not to the level of boredom that he'll do anything too extreme.

Just maybe a little misguided. Foolish. "I'd say to never judge a book by its cover," he offers up. "No matter how handsome or funny it is, even." Such a modest man, Ardyn. So humble, truly. He peers down at the chicken in his arms while the other one atop his head clucks quietly. "And these chickens are rather funny." For one, what she points out is interesting. Most animals don't like Ardyn, so- Already, he has his suspicion about these chickens' comfort level around him. Whether magically-inclined to be more okay with his rank vibes or what, he can't say.

"Especially with their stubborn streaks. Maybe they just don't want to be told what to do after a wayward spell disrupted their routine, but we might need to persuade them a little to get them back to their pen."

Cw: mention of drugs. It's completely irrelevant to the scene tho.

[amaratha]

Absinthe goes from looking from her chicken to Ardyn as a joking comparison, to looking from Ardyn back to her chicken now with a look of dude, are you also seeing this shit? Then, looking at the chicken with the disappointed realisation that of course you don't, you're a chicken. Chickens don't understand bad vibes the way she does, daughter of petty criminals, growing up in a way where getting what you want meant taking it from other people- this sort of eloquently shady vibe, in the Crimes industry, sort of makes Ardyn sound like an industry expert, you know? It's still not good because the Crimes industry kind of sucks for everyone involved, but you gotta respect the hustle? You gotta wonder about his 5 secrets to success (in crime)?

Anyway, Absinthe looks at the guy and she is a little wary but somehow, still genuinely curious enough about how he ticks to play ball.

“What do you suggest to 'persuade' them?”

She doesn't really see how the chickens are stubborn when they're pretty docile at the moment but like whatever. Ardyn can propose some sort of chicken-based drug cartel if he wants, she might not agree to it since she's not super into career crime at the moment, but she'll hear him out. It's fineeeeee.

[fatedfinality]

The chicken gives a small bock but otherwise stares blankly as it has the entire conversation. If it understood what Absinthe was getting at, it certainly showed no indication of such. And if Ardyn catches that look, which he does, he doesn't seem to pay it much mind.

"Nothing terrible," he starts with. That's probably not at all reassuring, but he continues: "Perhaps if they were scared away from the pen, they could be scared towards it. Maybe another magical blast or something similar to help herd them the right way?"

⇝ it's probably bandits. (death, sephiroth) | cw: gore, unnecessary harm & violence

[fatedfinality]

After his own unfortunate run-in with bandits (aka: Ignis Scientia with a bandit's weapon), it makes sense that Ardyn might feel a little... vindictive. He's unable to channel his aggression at the actual source of his unplanned demise (and even worse, his return). Without a proper outlet, the man's been restless and irritated. Brooding. His bathtub moonshine was still a long way off from being done and most mead suppliers knew to turn him away by now before he drank them out of stock.

But then he hears those bandits are still causing trouble. Someone should stop them. That someone should be him! He's fallen by their hands as far as most people know. Who could blame him for wanting to seek justice, in that case? Who could deny him the satisfaction of ending their no-good criminal activities for at least a time?

No one, he'd say, and with a growl behind it to make anyone think twice about arguing the point. "Alright, men," he says, addressing his quest companions - a wolfman and a teenager, he thinks? anyway - "What do you say that we strike hard and fast? They won't know what's hit them, how to escape, and we'll stop them from re-forming for hopefully a good while."

It seems sound in theory. In practice? Well, that will be another story. Hard, for Ardyn, is probably unnecessarily horrific and extreme to most people. Unfortunately, there won't be a way to know that until they're in the midst of things.

[miniroth]

That's definitely a teenager! Small, too. But he's armed, and apparently completely unbothered by what sounds like a pending massacre of the bandits that just didn't take a hint the last time they were attacked. This is the sort of task he's better suited to than any gardening or chasing livestock or digging wells, and if a giant wolfman and a supposed genocidal maniac are along for the ride, well, that's fine too. He needed more exposure to get used to the idea of creatures that aren't human being people.

"Are we to leave any alive to report back?" The question is very mild, and perhaps a bit arrogant, that's a nest of bandits and there's only three of them, who's to say THEY won't be the ones risking not being able to report back? "Escapees could call for reinforcements."

It's not bloodthirstiness exactly. It's efficiency. Dead bandits don't pillage.

[whitewolfsbane]

"It only takes one man to send a message. I say we make it a good one if it comes to that," Death offered.

Normally, he could probably solo most of the quests going up. But as he is right now... that's far from the case. The mortal combat skills are still sharp though.

"Besides... I'm sure we could prolong a few lives for information."

[fatedfinality]

You know, he has to admit: he wasn't entirely sold on the 'quest partners' thing originally. While it made sense that one man alone shouldn't tackle a bandit nest on his own, Ardyn wasn't a typical man. Even with his powers lessened, he was fairly confident he could have taken the criminals on by himself. He was actually anticipating he might have to, really, if paired with more morally sound folks.

But he isn't. These two seem like the right kind of company for him, which- That isn't something most people would want to be. It works for what he needs though and that's both handling a problem to help his reputation among the townsfolk and blow off some built-up steam.

"I like the way you think," he agrees, to their combined proposal. "Leave no men alive, except for the ones we want to extract information from. I bet we'll figure out fast enough which ones are most likely to squeal."

[miniroth]

This should probably all flag as really a bad idea on some level but it simply.. doesn't. If Sephiroth can accept working alongside a giant bipedal wolfman, then he's absolutely going to be fine with directives that basically line up with his career to begin with.

"That part I'm less skilled with. If you spot a target you want left alive, mark it." In some fashion, verbally or otherwise, else they might just get horribly killed in some fashion. Torture and interrogation were left to the Turks.

And seeing as this is Ardyn's to begin with, Sephiroth has no problem deferring to the behatted and perfectly reasonable man. "Otherwise, by your lead."

He KNOWS there should probably be a lot more planning going on, or at least some further discussion, but they seem to be quite contentedly on the same wavelength of just killing them all and being done with it. Eh, it'll be fine.

Rescue me from the demons in my mind

[flawed_immortality]

He gives it a solid 48 hours from the warning about moonshine before he slips away from Regis to go hunt down their resident cryptid. It's not terribly difficult to pinpoint the house Ardyn has taken as his own, not with the recent destructive events. But Cor also knows the man tends to favor his own little habits, for all he tries to embody chaos.

For a moment he simply stands before the door, rolling his shoulders a little to ease what he can of the strain in his neck. He weighs his options, considers how poorly things might go but he also suspects the fool will stubbornly refuse to answer the door after this latest debacle. Not to him. Certainly not after what Ignis did.

Which is why Cor heaves a sigh before lifting his hand to the door. A few sharp knocks and then, inadvisably, his hand falls to the handle, pushing the door open whether Ardyn wants to see him or not. He's had to suffer precisely the same from the man in the past so he has no qualms turning the tables now. "Ardyn." Flat and unbothered but loud enough to carry through the small building.

[fatedfinality]

Somehow, his house wasn't reduced to ashes. Although he appreciated Sephiroth's willingness to remove the evidence, the boy was a little overzealous about arson in his opinion. He might have been able to get a new house if he let this one burn, he realized belatedly, but he's also caused the local deity enough trouble as it is. He doesn't care that he has, but also knows there is usually a threshold to these kinds of things. Probably best not to hit it immediately.

He doesn't process the knocking until too late. It woke him up, which- Sleeping was always kind of a novel thing. He'd never needed to and still doesn't but finds it can help now and again even if to just pass the time. "Mmn?" he questions, sitting up from his spot on the floor beneath his new 'skylight.' He yawns and scratches lightly at one side of his stubbled face as he takes in the trauma of being awake again.

Then, as he stares ahead, it seems to finally register: "-Oh! Cor," he greets, smiling like one might to an old friend. "Come to try and take advantage of my vulnerable state? Smart move."

[flawed_immortality]

Cor's face drops from stern neutrality to the kind of tired exasperation only a man his age can express. His stance shifts slightly as he looks over the pathetic state the redhead is in, leaning to one side a little, arms coming up as though he means to cross them in an all too familiar gesture- But he stops halfway there with a faint wince, the left arm dropping back to his side and his right coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Dammit all.

"I believe Ignis has already proven you needn't be in a vulnerable state to be bested here." A small jab, really, considering some of the bitter things they've spat at each other in the ruined streets of Insomnia but just this once a fresh one. Of course he shakes his head slightly a moment later, this time the sigh that escapes him is not for Ardyn. "As fascinating as it is to know you can die here it is only going to hinder any of us returning home. You included."

Cor finally reaches back to close the door behind him, moving further into the cabin to... attempt to find somewhere to sit that's not filthy or in danger of collapsing after the latest debacle. "So why are you trying to kill yourself?"

A beat, another sigh.

"Again."

cw: casual mention of suicidal ideation

[fatedfinality]

So, he isn't healed entirely yet. Ardyn wonders how long that will take with the privative medicine and healing found in Town. "He had the element of surprise on his side," Ardyn feels necessary to correct. "For both him and I, honestly, since you're right. We learned the rules of home don't quite apply here." Which is good to know! It's just unfortunate for both of them - though for vastly different reasons - that they needed to find out the hard way. Much as he and Ignis would have preferred a much longer dirt nap, he's here again now and making it everyone else's problem.

As he does.

Despite the state of Ardyn's hovel, there is furniture to be found. The simple things provided by Charlie initially. He hasn't upgraded yet and probably best that he didn't considering a large portion of his roof is missing and he doesn't seem in any hurry to fix it. "Why does anyone do anything, really?" he questions, deflecting in an obnoxiously blatant way. "If you want the truth though: I was bored. The mead here is about as strong as water so I wanted to see if I couldn't come up with something that hit a little harder. That's all." And it just happened to hit too hard due to a silly, simple mistake.

[flawed_immortality]

Cor settles into a chair... well... perches on more like, not willing to let his guard down enough to actually be comfortable at all. Not around Ardyn. Comfort is a hard thing to come by these days, anyway. The years of constant abuse making themselves known in new and interesting ways now that he's been forced to slow down.

As much as he raises his brows and gives Ardyn a look that very clearly says he doesn't think the element of surprise had anything to do with it, they both know it likely did. Not that Ignis hasn't always been a quick study and deft with a blade but... the boy is too young to be the fully devastating combatant either of them are accustomed to. Which does make him wonder if it was surprise so much as Ardyn underestimating the younger man for exactly that reason.

Something to ask Ignis about, perhaps.

"You're always bored." Deadpan and almost accusatory. Though perhaps less convincing given the fact that Cor's default stance of crossed arms and hard lines is not something he can entirely do, still. His left shoulder still does not have the range of motion for it. "The mead is weak, though. You have a point... surely there are better ways to go about distilling liquor than...." A pointed look towards what remains of his bathroom. "That."

⇝ a date. (ravus)

[fatedfinality]

Of all the options in Hast, Ardyn settles on "The Tossed Dagger" as the most appropriate date spot. It's still a bit rough around the edges, sure, but most of the mining town is. That's part of its charm (just like this). For his part, the man is just glad to be able to stretch his wings - and clawed, curved legs - a bit away from Town. His changes haven't impeded him too much, thankfully, and while he isn't a fan of them, he's been able to adjust accordingly where he can.

He could have gone louder with his outfit, but remembered the request to keep things tasteful. The pants are loose to help with the curvature of his haunches now and his cream sweater has slits for his wings. They're tucked in currently to save space but he's still getting used to commanding them correctly. He hasn't giving flying a real try just yet, but maybe that'd be a different date idea for later. Assuming this one goes well, that is!

He thinks it is, so far. He's never courted another man, granted, but presumed things worked about the same- The flowers were appreciated when he met Ravus to start despite his nerves they were too much. He also hasn't put his foot in his mouth (much) and it's been a relatively normal outing. For most people, the standard would probably be a bit higher but Ardyn is trying to keep his expectations reasonable.

"Ah, I should probably ask the bar to re-fill my drink," he notes, which- He's been refraining, actually, and this is only his third one! Alcoholic tendencies aside, he is trying to make this a decent time by not getting too carried away.

Re: ⇝ a date. (ravus)

[errant_knight]

A date. How... Oddly normal. How delightful, mundane, and human, and Ravus really hasn't had the chance to normalize something like this. So he's entirely charmed by being taken to what is essentially a dive bar. But what really gets his ridiculous heart going is the fact Ardyn brings flowers of all things. Lovely, full peonies that smell and look delightful.

He looks them over, something soft in his usually severe gaze as he thanks Ardyn, and follows him inside. A part of him wants to ask if he knows the meaning behind them, but he refrains for now. The idea that they're meant for good fortune makes him think he shouldn't question it, lest he turn that good omen around.

Ravus is grateful for their blessing. It seems to work out too. Their date is exceedingly normal, chattering at a table near the fireplace, and people watching the vast array of folks that slip in and out of the building.

For his part, Ravus sticks to water with a bit of lemon in it. Terribly boring, but that's his nature. That, and he's never much developed a tolerance for alcoholic beverages. He's not sure whether to press it on a first date, though he notes it doesn't stop Ardyn. It does have him curious...

So when Ardyn makes mention of a refill, Ravus glances at the last bit still in the man's glass.

“Perhaps I should have something too.” He reaches his metal claws towards it, tugging the glass to himself. There's a brief pause to see if there's recourse to his little theft. It's not quite a challenge, but Ravus wanting to indulge in something he thinks Ardyn might find amusing. And if there isn't severe pushback, he lifts the glass to his lips and downs the rest from the same spot Ardyn's been drinking from.

When he sets the glass down, enjoying the burn down into his gut, he glances to Ardyn.

“Or would you prefer to share?”

[fatedfinality]

While he didn't pay much attention to the language of flowers even when a mortal man, he knows the basic meanings. It helps that floriography was popular in the modern age and so he also had plenty of 'memories' relating to the topic to help guide him along too. Perhaps a bit of an unfair advantage, but he's never been above using those when he does have them.

The mention of wanting something to draws his gaze back to the table instead of the bar. He might briefly imagine those large metal claws wrapping around his throat again instead of the glass but Jhank Troth keeps his thoughts from straying too far towards the obscene. He's done well to not make things weird up until now and it needs to remain that way. Right, okay- Anyway! The next mental conundrum is the concern that he's enabling poor behavior on Ravus' part.

Not that he is since that's just inevitable, but that he doesn't actually care if so. He would love to see the man be a little less guarded around him. That's not a bad thing inherently, right? Of course not. So, there isn't any pushback from Ardyn or his soul's companion. Rather, the redhead watches with a small raise of his brows in curious interest for Ravus' reaction to the drink. It's just a bit of mulled wine so nothing with too powerful of a kick, but it does burn in that fun smooth way he appreciates.

"While I have no qualms with sharing," he starts, "why not have one of your own? Get the whole experience. Order at the bar yourself, even, and work some of that natural charm to maybe get a discount."

[errant_knight]

Ravus is still looking down at the glass, but the slight flutter of his lashes is most certainly a poorly hidden roll of his eyes. Charm. Right.

“You and I both know that despite being a prince, there is nothing charming about to be happening on my end.” Ravus sighs, and tips the glass a bit. He then glances to the bar. He could do as suggested, but he's never ordered a drink in his life, doesn't even know what to ask for. The most alcohol he's ever had would have been dinner wines in his teens, still living in Fenestala.

There's the very real possibility of embarrassing himself, but he's dared himself to boldness by this stunt. And backing down now is going to invoke a pout from Ardyn, he's fairly sure. Which... Shouldn't leave a lingering sense of disappointment in the back of his mind, but it does.

Fine.

Ravus stands, taking the glass delicately in his claws.

“I'll bring yours as well,” is his relenting agreement, not wanting to admit he is doing this less for any of his own curiosity, and more because subconsciously, he wants Ardyn's approval here.

Though for his griping about not being charming, it barely takes a moment or two of being at the bar for someone to approach him. He hasn't even managed to flag down the barkeep when motion from his left has him immediately on alert. There's a rather bulky fellow there, skin a darkish sage, and sporting a pair of impressive tusks capped in decorative iron.

Immediately, he's leaning into Ravus’ space, and the silver doesn't necessarily back away, never one to be intimidated by size. Drautos was infinitely more impressive of a presence than this man. Still, the orc flashes a grin, and strikes up a coy conversation(or attempts to) with Ravus.

What becomes apparent to anyone watching though, is that Ravus is being flirted with, and is missing it entirely. He answers too brusquely, keeps his shoulders squared defensively, and generally seems unaware. There's a disconcerting look about his expression, uncomfortable with the attention. But more importantly, the flirtatious orc seems to take this as needing to up his game, press him a bit more. That's when he lays a gloved hand on Ravus’ back, as if to invite him closer.

[fatedfinality]

While Ardyn didn't actually expect much of his suggestion, he's somewhat pleased that Ravus decides to try his hand at ordering their drinks. It's for the best that he doesn't realize it's to seek his approval; he'd be both too full of himself and simultaneously ashamed at the realization to think someone would want his affirmation of all people. "You may be surprised," Ardyn offers, without recognizing how right he is.

Yet. It doesn't take long. The man was enjoying watching Ravus stroll up - for more obvious reasons than others - and try to get the barkeep's attention. But it's someone else whose attention he draws, which- That's fine. Of course, it's fine. This is just a date and it's not like he has any sort of claim. Besides, he imagines that Ravus will fluster once he realizes what's happening and that might be a cute sight in and of itself. Nevermind the tension of his claws now scratching divots into the lacquered tabletop beneath him as his gaze is fixated on the pair despite himself.

He does, in fact, get a little defensive but it doesn't deter the orc any. For as cool and detached as Ardyn wants to be watching the display, he can't be. Maybe because he recognizes himself a bit too much in that other man. He knows all about finding the appeal in pressing a little harder against someone that could be perceived as playing hard to get, the enjoyment in the challenge of it. Maybe that's why his tail flicks and pupils tighten into slits as he huffs a frosty breath in annoyance.

It's the hand on his lower back that spurs Ardyn into actual action. He was willing to let it be until that point, but now it's personal. (It isn't, at all, says Jhank who is desperately trying to be a voice of reason amidst the turbulent, violent thoughts now circling Ardyn's brain.)

"Ahem," interjects the redhead, loud and obnoxious as he approaches. Despite this fellow being far larger and intimidating in presence, Ardyn isn't a man known for his self-preservation instincts to begin with so it really doesn't deter him any. "I don't know what you think is going on here, but I can assure you it isn't anything in your favor. I can tell you right now that he isn't interested and would likely prefer to return to his actual date."

⇝ hi ho, hi ho, it's to the mines we go. (prompto)

[fatedfinality]

Although people were warned against going into the mines, that naturally only encouraged Ardyn to explore them more. Tell him to stay away? Of course, he'll go see what the fuss is about! He expects to come across other offworlders as he explores. Some miners tell him of a couple of familiar-sounding individuals who went further in and he's reminded to watch out for monsters.

"Of course, of course," he reassures before going further into the earth. He only has a small lantern to guide him but that's all he needs. So long as the light stays, he'll be fine with continuing on. It also isn't... as enclosed so it's easy enough to disassociate it from those years holed away against his will. The sounds of others help, too, instead of it just being him. Alone.

He hears a familiar squawk though before long and the rumbling of something further in a nearby tunnel. Hm, well, that's really none of his business but... The voice in his head tells him to help. Despite a roll of his eyes and sigh, he does actually listen and head that direction.

[heliographic]

Well, Prompto most certainly has gotten himself into A Situation. As he tends to do- except this one happens to be a little more serious than most. He's alone, deep in some dark mines. A dark, spooky cave is the absolute last sort of place where the boy wants to be, but the siren song of finding materials for some fellow tinkerers (cute lookin cool guys, even!) proved much too strong to resist. Without being able to tinker himself, and robbed of his beloved tech, Prompto figured he could live vicariously through the kobolds. Oh, and get some cool gear in exchange.

So, that left him in the mines, armed with a lantern, a pick, a bow and his corrosive breath, all alone. Things went smoothly, for the first chunk of the journey. The eager blond already found all manner of scrap metal, and even hit a vein of some sort embedded in a tunnel wall. All really exciting stuff.

Prompto is apt to jump at shadows. A shifting sound, or change in lighting? He's off to the races, frightened like a skittish chocobo. At least nine out of ten times, it was foolish, fearing nothing. This time, the tenth one, is a lot less harmless. He hears a shifting of rocks, and jumps, frightened...Then a form actually appears at the edge of flickering lantern light. Prompto swears at first it is just a stalactite...At least until it drops from the ceiling in a swarm of tentacles to lunge straight at the blond. He screams, leaping back as he unleashes a gout of bright green breath right at the single, horrific eye in the center of the fleshy, long horror of a creature. Prompto knows a formidable hunt when he sees one- this is not a beast to be trifled with. All he can do is try to dodge and wear it down...But after long enough, his foe manages to slip a bunch of tentacles around his ankles, dragging him with a thud onto the stone floor. Another few pin his wrists down, leaving Prompto to spew acid breath in random directions in hopes of hitting the horrific thing.

Bad. This is bad news.

"Crap! Help! Someone heeeeelp!!!!!

[fatedfinality]

Well, that's a grotesque beast. And he would know, wouldn't he? No time for jokes though- He needs to move quickly here if he's going to actually assist.

"Yoo hoo!" he calls, drawing the creature's attention. "Help has arrived." Briefly distracted, the monster looks the redhead's way only to be hit in the face with a blast of frost breath from Ardyn. Without wasting a second, he's brandishing a dagger from beneath his coat and slicing off a tentacle or two.

It hisses in pain and thrashes at them both now though. He's unable to stop it from knocking that blade out of his hand and he swears for it. "That's fine," he says, "I do prefer when my enemy puts up at least a little fight." Yet, he hopes he was able to at least get Prompto unpinned so he can fend for himself again. Especially since his wrist is suddenly wrapped by a tentacle and he's yanked forward with a surprised squawk of a noise.

[heliographic]

Of all the people that could come to his rescue, this, Ardyn, is the absolute last on Prompto's list. Still, help is help- and it would appear that, for whatever reason, the old man intends to lend a hand. There is a pause in the blond's shouted cries for him to absolutely groan at the entrance his old foe makes. "You've GOTTA be kidding me right now."

Still, help is help. Better making it out than becoming food for whatever the heck this horrific thing is. Even if his savior is the actual worst. Ardyn creates an opening, and Prompto, with his impressive reaction time, takes it. The beast, so focused on the newcomer, relaxes his grip on the boy just enough that he can hop backwards and draw his bow. He draws an arrow back and releases it with deadly precision, giving a whoop as it nails the creature right in its massive, single eye. A little off from dead center, but a decent hit nonetheless. "Hoo man, adding those wheels to the bow really does make drawing it easier!"

Indeed, Prompto's bow seems to have an unusual modification made to the ends: Two metal wheels. His inventive mind (nearly going mad at the lack of tech, but still wanting to create and engineer) managed to think up a system of pulleys and cables that ultimately resemble a compound-style bow.

The monster reels backwards with a terrible screech, tentacles thrashing and waving in all directions. "You got a breath weapon! Keep up the pressure!" Prompto shouts, falling back in to the familiar rhythm he recognizes from when he would go daemon hunting. It's been a long while since Prompto's fought alongside anyone else, with how solitary he was during the Night- but he hasn't forgotten how to work as a team.

[fatedfinality]

The Ardyn of just a few months ago would be doing it solely for the entertainment factor. Once torturer, now rescuer? What a laugh. As if he'd be doing it for any altruistic reason. But that was the Ardyn of the past- Or, at least, the Ardyn of Eos. The one of this world isn't quite so motivated by causing psychological chaos. Not always! Just now and again. Thankfully, this isn't one such situation. He's helping because - perhaps shocking to even him - he wants to.

He'll come up with any multitude of reasons why that's not the case. Of course, he will. He was just bored, he'll say. Or perhaps that Prompto screaming like that would only attract more monsters so it'd be better to handle it than put them all at risk. Anything but the truth, which would be somehow less believable than anything and he knows it.

"Very well," the man hisses literally. "Might as well freeze the day while we still can." That bite of cold air behind his gritted teeth seep passed his lips wisps of frost. A growl rumbles from low in his chest before he's spitting ice again. It freezes one of those tentacles and just in time for one of Prompto's arrows to snap it clean off. The monster shrieks, but Ardyn feels no sympathy for it. At this rate, it won't be long before the thing is either dead or making a tactical retreat after underestimating its foe; he's fine with either outcome, but does have to stop and clear his frigid throat.