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

[fatedfinality]

The acrid smell of smoke starts to hit Ardyn as things do ignite in a more literal way than metaphorical. It won't force him out, but he knows mortal lungs can only handle so much before needing to seek cleaner air. His own ache lightly but the pain helps remind him that he's still here. He needs it now and again.

The sickening sound of blades into flesh and sinew also help though. He is here and they're not. A bittersweet sort of thing, really, but he enjoys having the upper hand in this instance. Since trying to face the wolfman isn't working, a pair of bandits run to escape and find Ardyn instead.

Black tar oozes from past his lips, down his waterline, and out of his very pores. A miasma of black and purple coats him and his own eyes are a high-contrast yellow to the darkness on and around him. He grins as that inky substance seeps through his teeth and says only: "Boo." In a flash, one is grabbed by the throat and windpipe crushed with a crack and squelch and the other has a dagger lodged deep into his chest where his heart was beating just a second prior but beats no more.

"I think we've sufficiently made our point," he does say, to his quest partners.

[miniroth]

Fire is spreading, with so much to catch on. There's not going to be any escape, not for anyone that isn't deliberately allowed to live. Those that flee Ardyn and Death, find only a different form of death waiting for them, patient and meticulously quick about it. Of the three, only one has no interest in terrorizing, there was no need to be slow about any of it.

But he won't deny them their fun either. It doesn't entertain him to see one of the bandits get too close to spilled oil and recoil with a shriek, fire rippling up stolen clothes, hungry. Where the bandit stumbles, flailing, fire spreads.

The gleam of yellow-orange not-light highlights Ardyn's strange pallor and oozing features, as much of a nightmare as the towering wolf. The bound and gagged bandit in the center of camp's screaming is muffled, kicking ineffective, and Sephiroth .. simply makes certain nobody gets rambunctious about killing all of them.

Nothing at all but ash and cinders will remain soon enough. And one hand-selected survivor, struggling in the dust. "We only need one messenger." Were any others still alive?

[whitewolfsbane]

Death probably pulls his head out the reaping a bit sooner than Ardyn does, mostly due to noticing the smell of smoke. He peers about at the scatter yet growing fire and lets out huff. Alas, the fun is coming to a close.

"Indeed. And I think it would be unwise to linger much longer."

[fatedfinality]

"Although I doubt they have much loyalty among thieves, probably wise," he agrees. While it could be fun to stay and make more of a statement, that's a bit overkill. Ardyn is wont to get carried away, of course, but having others helps rein him in a bit more easily. When Sephiroth mentions it, he does remember the plan. A messenger, yes, but also one for them to keep to see if they can't find out more.

He crouches down next to the one that remains then, murderous glint still in his eyes and along his dagger both. He could kill him too easily but he won't. No, no- This one will be for play. They'll have fun, he's sure.

"A job well done," he applauds, "and while this was enough of its own reward, the actual one will be fine too." Honestly, he really hadn't even been considering the actual quest reward until just now. The beast within him is sated, for now, and that's all Ardyn needs. It won't be long until it hungers again but- He's found some good company, he thinks, for it it becomes a problem.

[miniroth]

"Do you think they have reinforcements, or concerned about fire's contagion?" Flames spread. That's what they did. And like every fire, they're hungry. It's growing brighter, and not necessarily in beneficial-to-bandits way. The ominous silhouettes Death and Ardyn throw are made all that much worse by dancing long black shadows.

The attempts at escape and thrashing and screaming is really getting that bandit absolutely nowhere as Ardyn crouches nearby, Sephiroth knows how to tie a knot and use a gag. After watching their camp being summarily erased off the map, surely he's next!

Surviving might not be the kinder option. "There's a group of bandits that keep attacking the old ladies of Town," the boy murmurs over the growing roar of flames. "One may hope this is the same nest, but if it isn't.."

Well. That might have to be cleaned out too, but perhaps more care spent because of the old ladies. ... That something's changed about Ardyn's appearance is only noted now that he's actually paying attention. Yellow eyes, black ooze, an odd seething shroud of black and red; Death was the same towering sharp-fanged wolf, but Ardyn is subjected to level scrutiny. "You've changed. Your own, or something the bandits did?"

[whitewolfsbane]

"I am not fireproof at the moment," the beastman reaper answered simply, but also remembering a minor encounter with an undead skull. Otherwise, not very perturbed.

[fatedfinality]

"I think the fire's contagion is probably something we should prevent," he admits begrudgingly. "We won't be lauded as heroic if we let it spread too far and endanger Town any." Ardyn knows how fast fire can grow out of control; it was, for so long, his domain to command with Ifrit and while he loved to watch the flames flicker and grow... There's a time and a place. Right now, right here- But not anywhere else that they can spare for now.

As the pent-up aggression and desire to destroy is bled out of him, that inky miasma does gradually recede. He still has some to wipe away on his face once attention is drawn to it. "Oh, this?" he questions, looking at the substance smeared on his hands before its absorbed back into his skin. "Just an old affliction," he supplies, casually misleading. "Nothing for you to worry about." At least, not here. He'd already tried to infect a person or two to see- All that happened was a regular bought of sickness instead of fatally turning into a monstrosity by Ardyn's hand. Strange, but likely for the best. If he could spread The Scourge like back home, well... Best not to consider that hypothetical.

He picks up the squirming bandit and tosses him over his cloaked shoulder like he weighs nothing at all. While weakened, he's still stronger than the average man. "We can drop this fellow off somewhere inconspicuous for later before turning in our success story to the quest master," he offers. He doubts that they'll be rewarded if it's known they're keeping one to torture for more information. That can just be their little bonus. Ardyn's, mostly, but details!

[miniroth]

Are ANY of them fireproof? "Then steer clear of the flames. Fur likely smells as bad burning as hair does."

There's a fair amount of that. If there were living but wounded bandits amongst the slaughter, they wouldn't be for long. There's probably a lot he should be questioning further here. He doesn't, he just nods as if Ardyn's explanation is sufficient.

Curiosity isn't part of his job.

"If we are not all needed for reporting the bandits dealt with, I'll remain here to make certain the camp is unusable again and the fire doesn't spread." He set it, after all, it's only sensible he clean up his mess.

[whitewolfsbane]

Death is not concerned with the well-being of their hostage, unfortunately for that bandit. The wolf only smiles. "Allow me to make sure we all get our reward," he says. "Separating now will let us wrap our business up faster that way."

And perhaps through feeling fond about a job well done together, he reaches over with an attempt to ruffle Sephiroth's hair. Death won't be too concerned if the boy dodges the attempt, since it could be brushed aside as a playful gesture.

"Excellent work."

[fatedfinality]

"It's appreciated," Ardyn offers, sincere in his own way.

And well- Isn't that sweet? He does think too that Sephiroth did a good job; the boy wasn't lying about being an efficient killer. Meanwhile, Ardyn and Death definitely filled the 'style' quota. It's quite nice to have found unexpected camaraderie in violently clearing out bandits. Since no one seems objecting to his 'souvenir,' he'll gladly handle all that extra nasty business himself.

"And until we meet again! While I'm sure these bandits have learned, who knows what being able to venture to new places may bring." More murder, hopefully! "If nothing else, I know who to call on for dealing with troublesome pests like these."

[miniroth]

Sephiroth does not like being touched. Adamantly. Sixteen years of touch always coming shortly later with a needle or scalpel has left certain apprehensions about it. But the lab has also taught him not to react violently on impulse when someone does, and he knows there's no real danger in a hair ruffle. It doesn't prevent him from grumbling as his hair is all ruffled up, or taking a minute to try to reorganize it afterward.

"..Please try to make sure our messenger does eventually get to deliver a message," is the only thing he adds, before turning back to the by now comfortably roaring fire. It'll keep him busy a while, making sure it doesn't spread to the surroundings.

A nice way to stay warm on an autumn evening, all told. A task accomplished, good achieved.