Oh, he’s being teased now, is he? Ravus huffs an imperious little sound, though with Ignis looking up at him, he’ll likely catch the way a slight smile curves the very corners of Ravus’ lips.
“Well, said honest man could only provide what he knew. And given you were the first friend I’d had since I was a child, I was a touch ignorant to the way friendship might feel.” Someone, multiple someones, had to explain his own feelings to him, after all.
Ignis settles back against him, and Ravus relaxes with him. Despite that, he speaks of the uncertain phenomena, and Ravus senses the undercurrent of more there. He knows why, of course. Knows the future is a daunting, doomed outlook that they both know he’ll fight tooth and nail. But Ravus doesn’t press the subject. They’ve time enough to talk about it on a less eventful day. As long as Ignis’ gamble on his luck holds true, anyway.
“I find it hard to believe it was something you chose to do. And perhaps there’s no knowing exactly why the timing was so particular. But as you said, you’re here now, and that is what matters.” Ravus brings up his prosthetic arm, unfurling the claws as the bright blue bloom of a sylleblossom unwinds from between the digits.
“They come in many colors, you know. The vivid blue was meant to represent perseverance, an undying love and loyalty found in so many stories of Tenebraen knights and Oracles. A heart, unwilling to yield.” He then sheers the stem by hooking a claw, and offers the flower to Ignis. “So let an honest man be honest, and give you something more in accordance with my feelings. In proper Tenebraen tradition, this is my promise to you. You have me, whatever the future holds.”
With a vow properly made and sealed with a memento, Ravus carefully shifts his other arm out from beneath Ignis without too much jostling. He wraps it around the other’s shoulders to give a gentle squeeze before he takes up his cup of tea between metal talons to drink a good bit more of it.
“Provided, of course, that I do not break the bed and perish of embarrassment.” It's unfortunately quite possible.
no subject
“Well, said honest man could only provide what he knew. And given you were the first friend I’d had since I was a child, I was a touch ignorant to the way friendship might feel.” Someone, multiple someones, had to explain his own feelings to him, after all.
Ignis settles back against him, and Ravus relaxes with him. Despite that, he speaks of the uncertain phenomena, and Ravus senses the undercurrent of more there. He knows why, of course. Knows the future is a daunting, doomed outlook that they both know he’ll fight tooth and nail. But Ravus doesn’t press the subject. They’ve time enough to talk about it on a less eventful day. As long as Ignis’ gamble on his luck holds true, anyway.
“I find it hard to believe it was something you chose to do. And perhaps there’s no knowing exactly why the timing was so particular. But as you said, you’re here now, and that is what matters.” Ravus brings up his prosthetic arm, unfurling the claws as the bright blue bloom of a sylleblossom unwinds from between the digits.
“They come in many colors, you know. The vivid blue was meant to represent perseverance, an undying love and loyalty found in so many stories of Tenebraen knights and Oracles. A heart, unwilling to yield.” He then sheers the stem by hooking a claw, and offers the flower to Ignis. “So let an honest man be honest, and give you something more in accordance with my feelings. In proper Tenebraen tradition, this is my promise to you. You have me, whatever the future holds.”
With a vow properly made and sealed with a memento, Ravus carefully shifts his other arm out from beneath Ignis without too much jostling. He wraps it around the other’s shoulders to give a gentle squeeze before he takes up his cup of tea between metal talons to drink a good bit more of it.
“Provided, of course, that I do not break the bed and perish of embarrassment.” It's unfortunately quite possible.