carbungle | Hugtopia Contact Post

Guns are hard to warp with.

[And maybe he'd been a little too overconfident that day.]

[ Her fingers brush through his hair, repeating the motion from before. How often has she done this? Far too many times, whether he's been happy or sad, needing a distraction or not. ]

Did you keep them? Maybe they can be used them for some sort of art project or... new mural.

[ He had made a mural for Ignis once, too. It's still in their home. ]

[He sounds almost like he could fall asleep like this, though he'd rather not. His intention isn't to use her as an escape (though, guiltily, he feels like is using this place and by proxy her, a little); going to Elysium means spending time with her or Mythra, and it isn't his intention to change that, even if he's poor company in times like this.]

Dunno. We could try it out, I guess. At least before the month's up, just to see.

[Since most of the time the effects run out before the turnover of one month to the next, he doesn't have high expectations of it working beyond the next day or so. He really won't be in the mood for it today... maybe tomorrow.]

Murals are often used to honor or remember something. [ Next question. ]

This particular birthday of yours... is it something you want to remember? [ Birthdays come and go. Not all of them have to be memorable, the more one has them; however, his in this world are all on borrowed time, and he only has so many.

Birthdays are celebratory occasions, but this day will also be closely tied to when one of his greatest friends, and family member, has left. That makes it bittersweet. ]

Mm... my birthdays are usually kind of a mixed bag.

[Sometimes they're good. Last year was nice, just a comfortable gathering of friends. And sometimes they're a reminder of everything he's born to be and born to lose, like the political events back home where he's more of a holiday than a person to celebrate. This one's worse, even if he knows he'll see Ignis again. (Even if Ignis will never see him again.) The moments they have here are borrowed, extra gifts when a decade-long separation awaits them back home. He's lucky to have had them with him for so long. He knows, he knows that, but...]

I think this year, I'd rather forget. Got enough bad memories to carry around with me.

[Not just his own, either. And she knows about that already.]

[ As wishful as the idea is, there's no truly forgetting something like a particularly bad birthday, much less a loved one leaving. She knows that's not how it works, but so too does she know that forcing levity is just as harmful.

So, for just this moment, she wants to ]

I miss him already.

[ And if she misses him and feels hurt, it must been much harder on Noctis (and Prompto, especially). She's hoping that her confessing this will help Noctis feel more comfortable to do the same. ]

[His response is a harsh intake of breath, a long quiet, then a slow, shaky exhale.]

...Yeah. [Another pause, and then,] It was... waking up, I think. I didn't smell the coffee. It didn't hit me right away, but... I knew something was wrong.

[Ignis rarely goes far without coffee, especially with Ebony available in their replicator. For him not to make it in the morning puts the whole world off-kilter. Noctis is of half a mind to start drinking it himself, even if he hates it.]

[ Such a simple thing, the smell of his coffee in the morning, now gone. It’s heartbreaking to hear the loss worded like that.

She tips her head, looking down at him, and her fingers lightly run over his scalp, as if she could encourage him to say more. ]

[He's quiet again for a little bit, breathing in, out, letting her touch soothe the stress right out of his soul. This place isn't real, but the air feels cleaner, kinder. The grass is soft, and her hands feel nice.

His heart hurts.]

He did... so much for me. You ever feel like you owe somebody more than you could ever repay, and you can't because they wouldn't want you to think of it like a debt? But you wish you could, because they gave up... too much.

[He thinks a lot about the vision he'd received, the memory of Ignis putting on the ring, ready to give up his eyes, his life, everything for Noctis who that very morning had been whining about something stupid and inconsequential for no reason at all. He'd done it without hesitating. Who does that?]

[ She can, and she can't relate. Can, because she feels as if Addam had given her so much, and there's no way she could repay him. Can't, because-- wasn't she the one who took all of what he could have had from him, all of his freedom? It hadn't been his choice.

With Ignis... from what she knows of their relationship, it was his choice. Someone like that, who gives and gives and gives. But she knows about that want to give one's all to another, too, without a thought of whatever they might receive in return. It's love. However, she doesn't like how Noctis sounds guilty, perhaps, in his tone, for not giving back.

Carefully, Pyra presses back against that tone. ] What he gave to you... he gave freely, didn't he? [ His time, she assumes; his company, his advice. ]

He did. I can't even say that I wish he hadn't.

[Through Ignis' eyes, he'd seen Izunia ready to kill him. Maybe he was bluffing - Ardyn here is of the belief that his full daemon self is seeking an end of sorts, in his own grim, horrible way - but maybe he wasn't. Maybe he'd have been content to end the bloodline on his own terms, sever the Lucian ties to Bahamut and doom the world to a slow, lingering death. Maybe he wanted to rule an empty world of darkness and live forever alone in that hollow victory. Maybe he was testing the gods or didn't care. Maybe he wasn't thinking at all.

The point is, they couldn't risk it. Ignis wasn't thinking about prophecy or fate or what the gods wanted. Ignis was watching Ardyn threaten someone he loved and he made a choice. Noctis has to think of the prophecy, he has to acknowledge that his life, brief as it might be going forward, is worth the boon Ignis paid to save it, as a price to bring back the dawn. His role is a bartering token that can't be exchanged for any other. Ignis' eyes, compared to the rest of the world, is a small cost for his guaranteed safety. He can't deny that.

But he wishes, oh he wishes. He'd trade his eyes for Ignis, if the world and the gods and the ring hadn't already laid their claim. He'd trade so much for Ignis, for the guys, for Luna. For so many loved ones.

(Too many lights. They're falling, falling, and he can't keep them with him. He remembers. He has to let them go.)]

I don't know what I'd change, if I could go back. He's been with me through everything, even when I was too messed up to notice. I just- I keep thinking, 'I wish we had more'. More everything. I'm so...

[...selfish, he almost says, but he stops himself. It's not selfish, they'd had that conversation already. To want to be with the ones you love, to long for their company, their words, their smiles and the comfort of their touch. Love isn't meant to be selfish.]

I'm so tired, [he says instead. Tired of losing people.]

[ More everything. More time, more time with loved ones, more-- Yes, that's simply it. More everything: what a succinct way to put it, and she's glad, on some level, that he's able to admit to that wish. ]

....I know you are. [ She says, quiet. ] I can see it in your expression. [ Loss effects him as greatly as any other. He feels it strongly, and in a world like this, where loved ones come and go, return and forget, then perhaps leave again, it's difficult to persevere.

But she has seen him persevere. When Ignis left the first time, when Luna left; and when Ignis returned, Noctis had made the most of the opportunity that time, too. It isn't as if their time here had been wasted--... but as he implies, it isn't ever enough. Such is love. ]

You know.

I'm not quite sure that he'd want to change anything, either, of all the time you had with him. [ She can't speak for Ignis, but she can speak as someone who loves Noctis, too. ] But you have to forgive yourself, for not having more. [ Not that it is his fault at all, but the perception of not doing enough, giving back enough, or having enough time with Ignis is clearly effecting him. ]

[He purses his lips at that, gaze shifting away. She's probably right- about both. Ignis isn't the type to linger on too many regrets, at least not for his own actions. He embodied the Lucian pledge of forging ahead and never looking back better than he ever has. On the other hand, he kind of hated those words. Not fully, of course. They seem so ingrained in the history of their line, practically ancestral, and more importantly they're his father's words. But the idea of never looking back feels too cold, like the past doesn't matter. It does. It matters so much. Even if that isn't the heart of what it means, he still loathes the implication.

He can forge ahead. But if he can't look back, he won't see all the hands pushing him forward, supporting him from behind. That part's important, too. And as for forgiveness...]

I'm still... figuring that part out. Never been much good at it.

[The criticism of others can sting, even when he tries his best to shrug it off. But it only hurts because it often echoes what he's thought of himself already, like his broken bones are shown clear through transparent flesh. Back home, his screw-ups felt more harsh because they affected more people, in the grant scheme of things- wrong calls as a prince meant more than just him could get hurt. Here, though, he only has to answer to himself, and... he's his own worst critic.]

[ Accepting that he might not ever have enough time with those he loves might sound unfair, or worse: cruel. He has so little time left. But him blaming himself for what his past self couldn't see, know, or do with what information he has now, to make up for whatever guilty pain plagues his mind, is equally cruel unto himself. There's no easy answer, but she knows that peace must be obtainable, to some degree. It's better than believing turmoil is all there is, or living in it.

Her thought cause her hand to drift from his scalp to his cheek, pressing her palm against it softly. ]

It's not your fault.

[ Ignis leaving. Noctis not spending more time with him. Noctis not giving more "in return" to Ignis. None of that is his fault. ]

[He swallows. It should be easy. Shouldn't it? Just four words, one simple recognition of truth. She'd handed them to him. It's not your fault. Nothing he might have done differently could change what happened, as much as he'd wish it to be so. The power of the old kings had taken all of his strength away, leaving him helpless. It's not his fault that... Izunia chose to kill Luna, and he couldn't stop it. It's not his fault that Ignis protected him when he was unconscious. It's not his fault that any of his family comes and goes and that all their reunions are meant to end too soon. It's not his fault that he can't hold all those lights- no one's hands are that big, or that strong. He's allowed to be weaker than his own expectations. It's not his fault.

He wants to believe it. He wants to believe it so, so badly. That there are things he can't control, no matter how hard he tries, and... that not every burden, every fate, every life lost, has to be laid onto his shoulders. The weight of the world already takes up so much space, but not every life will be spared at his expense. He fought hard, he tried hard, he wanted to succeed so desperately, but...]

...It's not... my fault.

[He'll try to believe it. He'll try, he'll try. If he doesn't, the crushing weight of it will kill him long before his father's sword.]

[ She's surprised that he repeats it, having expected, instead, that he'd give reasons and reasons as to why he'd think it is. Those demons undoubtedly still linger within his mind, if they're anything like her own, waiting and ready to strike again when he's vulnerable, but she's glad that he's able to acknowledge this much.

It's not his fault. His actions at the time were his alone, ignorant of the future and working within the then-present terrible circumstances thrown at him. His time with Ignis in Havenwell, while apart from the pressures of his world, were on borrowed time, something that he did know and chose to act accordingly in a way he thought was best. Hindsight is always clearer. Blaming one's past self for not knowing the future is unfair. This is why she believes, with certainty, that he shouldn't be so hard on himself.

And if he doesn't believe it wholly himself, she'll believe it all the more for him.

Pyra's hand remains upon his cheek. ] One more time. It's not your fault.

[He reaches up, fingers curling around her hand, and his gaze flits up to meet hers.]

...It's... not my fault.

[Like pulling teeth, every word of it, as if he'd done it to indulge but a second round of it makes it real somehow. It's not as if he was lying the first time, but... almost hopeful, like saying it will drag it into true existence. Not his fault, not his fault. His heart wants to blame himself for it, to carry the guilt that's made him heartsick in waves for the past year or two or more, but it's wrong and unfair and after all this time, he's come to trust her voice over the one in his own head, beating him down. He wants her to be right. She must be right. She sees him in a better light than he'll ever see himself, and she's not alone, either. Ignis wouldn't blame him. Ignis didn't save him for a reward, or for duty, or because Noctis will be useful in the future. Ignis chose to save his friend, the way Noctis would have done if their roles were reversed. The way he will, in the future. It isn't repaying a debt, it's... it's just love, plain and simple. He won't regret their time together because he'd loved it, every minute, the extra time a gift that he'd never have received otherwise. He'd been given so many gifts, and even if he felt like he didn't deserve them sometimes, that wasn't his fault, either.

It's not his fault that he's loved.]

[ If only building him up again was as effective as all the strain that appears to chip away at him. She hopes that those words will be easier to say, to accept the more they are reinforced, and if not, she doesn’t mind reminding him.

…But she wonders what would help him best in this moment, whether that’s reminiscing about Ignis in ways that honor him and bring up all the memories of how wonderful a friend (and brother) he had been- all the good, funny, and lighthearted times. Or, if it would be helpful to continue to speak about loss in an effort to process it. Mourning is helpful, but. Each person does so differently.

As she watches his expression, she can’t quite believe that he believes the words he’s just spoken, as he doesn’t appear any less relaxed (to be sure, she doesn’t expect him to smile).

Her palm slides back up to his hair, continuing to stroke it. Above them both, the breeze gentle rustles the branches. ]

Dora for your thoughts.

[He'd like to offer good thoughts, weary of dwelling in misery and the loss he feels too strongly when disappearances happen like this, but he won't lie to her, either. On the other hand, it isn't as if she hasn't heard a lot of this before. Sometimes the hardest part is admitting that he's still struggling with the same issues over and over- that her encouragement helps (and it does, truly) but it's a healing salve over a wound that likes to reopen when he least expects it, or when moments like this come along and a fresh cut tears across his heart, and he remembers.]

It's... scary, I guess. Having people care about you enough to hurt themselves for your sake. Even if it isn't my fault [!!!] it's still heavy to carry that around.

[He'd always known it was a thing, Ignis having pledged himself to Noctis so young, Gladio being assigned as his Shield when they were kids, the vows required to get Prompto into the Crownsguard or power the myriad of Kingsglaive recruited to protect his family. Hearing about it and seeing it in practice feels very different, though, and he hates it even more than he did growing up.]

[ She's about to ask what he means by others hurting themselves for his sake, but she remembers his words-- "I wasn't there for Ignis, and he lost his eyes. I almost got Prompto killed, we left him behind and couldn't turn back." From her understanding, they weren't intentionally sacrificing themselves for Noctis, even if she knows they probably wouldn't think twice about it. They were fighting for him, with him. ]

When one loves someone, ...I suppose the thought of themselves being harmed doesn't even come to mind, when it means that the one they love won't be. [ That's how she can contextualize it, and she's sure that he's been in similar situations where he's felt the need to put himself in harm's way for the sake of protecting another. Still, that doesn't help the burden he feels being on the opposite end.

She knows it, too, when he had taken a near-deadly blow from the Fetter to protect her. "Heavy to carry around" is a good way to describe being on the side of sacrificed-for, and she knows those inner battles well, the ones that scream that it's her fault he was harmed or felt the need to sacrifice his safety.

Pyra draws a breath, calming herself and refusing to fall into a pit. So she continues with what scraps have helped her-- not the guilt but the feeling of being loved, that honor of being so loved, that someone would do something reckless for her, even if she wishes he wouldn't: ]

Others fight with you, for you because you're loved. [ She's said it before, too, that he's so easy to love. Her voice softens, and she leans in, trying to emphasize her words. ] You're loved, Noct. And you do not owe that love a same sacrifice in return or anything. You can give that love back in the way that you choose.

[He huffs a quiet noise, an exhaled breath that in another situation could have been a laugh. It isn't quite.]

I'd be a hypocrite if I begrudged anyone for doing it, all things considered.

[He can take the hint; he knows he's been reckless for others, taking the hits, worrying about people who could handle or heal themselves like Pyra or Ardyn. He'd meant what he said before, though- just because he knows they'll be okay doesn't mean he wants to see them in pain. Preventing it would always be his first thought, an instinctive reaction. He shouldn't be upset when others have the same instinct.]

I... wouldn't want to be loved less, either. Maybe that should be selfish too, but I know it's wrong to think that way. [He frowns tightly, eyes closing.] I spend way too much time thinking about what I shouldn't be doing.

[ It's too late to not love him any less. She believes that Noctis simply has that uncanny effect on people, who are drawn to him a if he is a light. He'd be this way even without whatever divine blessings he has.

The corners of her lips tug downward wen he finishes speaking. ]

What do you mean, thinking about what you shouldn't be doing?

You don't agree?

[He exhales quietly, a little exasperated with himself.]

Don't act out, don't forget your position. Don't worry so much! Don't want for too much, but don't think of wanting too much as being selfish. Don't waste all your time moping, don't stop yourself from feeling what you feel.

[His lips quirk, smiling ironically.]

Sometimes rules are easier than freedom. You can fall back on them as an excuse when you screw up.

[ Her lips part, then stop. She doesn't not agree; rather, she knows well of what he speaks. Regrettably in the past, she had once been the one to question if her time with him was something good for him, when he could be training. Was that over a year ago? It feels much longer.

She knows better now, and encourages him when he can. When times are easy, it's easy to forget that he still suffers from the conditioning of his upbringing. Or... Worse: the effects of the crystal at a distance. She eyes the ironic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Unfortunately, it's hard for her to find humor there, herself, not when she assumes such control looms over him, if she's interpreting Carbuncle's message correctly.

Quietly, ] You're free here. [ Freeer. Free, as much as anyone can be. ]

Free to choose to be with whom you want, when you want.... And free to mourn them when they go.

I know.

[He reaches his hand up, sliding it along her arm until he finds her hand at his hair, curling their fingers together instead and giving hers a squeeze.]

You're always helping me remember that... I'm really grateful for it. I'd... [...be a big mess without you, is what he's thinking, but he halts himself first. She's trying to encourage him. Don't put yourself down. Another rule, if that's the criteria he's going by, but not a bad one.] I'd feel worse, if you weren't here.

[He wants to do something other than mourn. He wants to celebrate her, them, everyone he still has with him and everyone he's had before, even if he misses them now. Maybe he's not up for a party today, but he can at least do a little more than mope.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject