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!

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Comments

[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."

[fatedfinality]

Too young, for one, and attacking a man who believed he couldn't die for another. It would have been a rather funny thing, really, if it'd all gone as he initially thought. His head lobbed off and everything only for him to pop back up like a daisy. Or maybe a dandelion, he thinks. An invasive weed that one kept pulling from the ground, crushing beneath their heel, or chopping apart and yet it kept growing back. If he asks Ignis though, he'll likely hear something similar: Ardyn more or less let himself be attacked, in the end. But only he knows it's because he didn't think it would actually be his end.

"Not always," he sighs, finally pulling himself up off the floor and dusting off his pants. "Just most of the time. And of al the things I could have gotten up to, isn't home brewing relatively harmless? Illegal, sure, but the fun kind." Rather than the gruesome like manslaughter. He glances towards the sorry state of his bathroom through and sighs. "Maybe there were but when a man's desperate for a decent drink, he'll do just about anything."

For how relatively harmless and casual this conversation has been, Cor must have sought him out for a reason beyond idle chatter and catching up. "What concern of it is to you though, hm?" He's focused now on the other man, a maybe familiar sort of shift in the dynamic as he gives a mean sort of smile. "Trying to ensure I'm not getting into worse trouble, no doubt. Now that you have your king to protect again, well- Can't let me ruin that a second time, can you?"

[flawed_immortality]

Dandelions, at least, have some purpose. Salads for one. No Ardyn is the sort of plant that chokes the life out of everything planted around it and serves no real purpose, invasive and devastating. A Trumpet vine perhaps. Deceivingly beautiful and able to produce a sweet nectar only to lure in others to spread its taint and poison the bearers.

"One might think you could use your time to look into better ways..." Do a little research, learn a few things. That sort of thing. But no, something beneficial like that would never be what Ardyn would do. For a man forced to wait so very long for so very much he really is one to chase only instant gratification.

Which is why that cruel slant to his smile is not surprising in the least. It's something that Cor has been expecting since he first arrived. His face is as carefully neutral as it always is, a mask crafted to infuriate others, to give nothing away. It has been difficult, always moreso with Ardyn because he knows so very much, knows precisely what digs will get a response from him.

"Ensuring you do not get into worse trouble is the least I can do to assist Charlie. He can't get us all home so you can die properly if he has to keep reviving you." Somehow, even then, he hadn't dreamed Ardyn would immediately go for Regis. Foolish of him, really.

He's quiet for a long enough moment that Ardyn will know, even without the physical tells, the way his jaw clenches or the perfectly measured breaths, that he's struck a nerve. "Do not make me find more creative ways of incapacitating you so that Charlie will not need to revive you again." Ah... is there a hint of a growl in his voice there? Damn.

[fatedfinality]

He has his uses, he'd say, even if they aren't useful to anyone but him. Well, him and The Empire... for a time. Eventually, they rotted away too as everything as everything does. In the end, there was always going to be only darkness and Ardyn. That's why Noctis had to stop him, that's why he did everything he had. Well, that and the blinding rage simmering near constantly in his veins just threatening to boil over at a moment's notice. One wouldn't know it though with how cool and composed he tries to keep himself.

"I was told Charlie has a little library," he answers, a contemplative hum following. "It's been a while since I've had a good read. Conjuration magic seems interesting." Not for lack of time, really, but interest in other things and the shorter attention span caused by modern day magazines. "It'd kill two birds with one stone, even, since I'd be under our local deity's watchful eye." And that idea excites him a little, honestly. He knows there's more to Charlie than he's letting on so far. He wants to see it, wants the dragon that he is to snap and snarl at him viciously like Ardyn knows he's capable of. Soon enough, soon enough.

Before he gets too focused on the wrong silver-haired man though, he's drawn back by that crack in Cor's armor. Predictable, maybe, but sometimes the blows that hit hardest are the ones people think are too easy to reach for. "Promises, promises," he tuts, drawing in closer now. He doesn't have the same sort of shadow walking here but he still slinks in an almost unnerving way through the darkness of the house. "Threatening me with a good time won't work and you know it. Or did you really not get to know me at all during those years of night where it just me and you and all the fun that came with it?"

'Fun' is decidedly not how people would describe Ardyn antagonizing people from the ruins of their home, but- Details.