carbungle | IC Contact

[He smiles against her lips, pleased that he got it right- with a perfect score to boot.]

Haven't gotten one of those in a while.

[Final year, maybe? Aced the hell out of economics, mostly because it was expected of him and Ignis is an amazing advisor. As for the words themselves... he likes saying them, too. They'd danced around this before, the whole wants-versus-needs, how wanting to live doesn't necessarily coincide with being allowed to due to the cost required in exchange. Here, though? He's allowed, he can fight for it. He can choose her power or her crystal or whatever, he can stay alive.

He feels pretty good about all of that, turns out. And there's still time and space to decide.]

Well, if we're talking about what I want, then... mm...

[He sneaks his arm around her back, patting near the plate of cookies.]

[ And this is her completely forgetting that she had brought the cookies, thinking for a single, split moment that he's wanting to get frisky. She blushes quietly, feeling a small beat of warmth travel up her spine...

...And then she remembers that this is Noctis, and oh, right, there are cookies. She giggles, turning some to reach towards the plate herself, bringing a cookie to him. Eating in bed? It's fine, she'll wash these sheets later. ]

A one track mind.

[ Sitting up more, but remaining close, she holds up the cookie between them. ] Say 'ah'.

Not... entirely one-track!

[Come on, they just had a whole conversation where he was contemplating his own death, that has to count.

...He opens his mouth, though.]

Ah, as in "Ah'm due for a snacking."

[In his very best ~~Southern~~ Leiden accent.]

[ She places the cookie between his lips. All his to enjoy. ]

One cookie equals one less hour in stasis. Eat all twenty-four of them, and you might just be able to recover a day early!

Twe-

[Oops, cookie-mouth. Give him a few seconds to chew first.]

Twenty-four cookies. That's too much in one go, even for me.

[Even if they're homemade and delicious.]

Oh...?

[ A fake, inquisitive tone, a tilt of her head. ] I thought your magic ran on cookies. Have I been wrong this entire time?

Maybe a little wrong.

[But like, playfully wrong. Cutely wrong. Jokingly wrong.]

Sad to say, I've still got a normal-sized stomach.

You could have fooled me.

[ She says this as her hand drops from his shoulder to pat his considerably flat stomach. She's only teasing! ] I thought your armory was in here, it's much like a void for all sweets.

[Right now his stomach's well-padded in the most comfortable hoodie that could be dragged out of his closet, but it folds easily under her hand as he sucks in a little to evade those teasing fingers.]

Not all sweets. Only the really fancy and delicious stuff can be devoured to infinity. That's the secret.

[And her cookies are good, absolutely, but they're not tiny-gourmet-Altissian-chocolate good, which is a whole other level that even Ignis barely brushes up against.]

Really fancy sweets...?

[ She asks, innocently probing for more information, looking at him.

She's going to take this as a challenge. It's about time she added on a new hobby besides shitty gardening and tinkering with batteries on the side. ]

You know, like... little finger foods at expensive cafes. Altissia's full of 'em, but I don't remember what they were called. Ignis might.

[He shrugs, making a mental note to perhaps give it some thought when his brain is a little more up to snuff. He's still running on fumes here.]

[ She makes a mental note to consult Ignis. ]

Ah, I should have known that you have expensive taste.

[He shrugs, sort of in a noncommittal manner, munching through the next cookie.]

Perks of growing up a rich kid, I guess. Though I learned to appreciate the thrifty stuff after Prompto and I met.

[ She thinks it's not such a terrible thing, to have luxurious taste. It makes him a good connoisseur. ]

Then, whenever Ignis and I attempt making similar chocolates, you'll just have to be our judge.

[ She lifts her gaze to meet his, her palm gently finding his cheek again. ] That's not a bad deal, is it?

[ He gets to try chocolate while they may get feedback to improve! And as for Pyra, she might have an encyclopedia and cuisine artistry talent uploaded into her, but that doesn't mean she can't improve to cater to Noctis' taste. ]

Chocolate's never a bad deal.

[She gets a tired but content little smile for that; he has a preference for fancy, but he won't turn his nose up at less so long as it's tasty.]

We do an awful lot of stuff that I like, you know. Have you given some thought to more of the w-word for yourself?

[ She wants to not hurt him.

Also, she wants to protect that she's not the one who's bedridden.

She wants him to heal. To not rush himself, of course, but become healthy again. The future is his, here; yet, she feels that any moment can be their last, as if they're running out of time. Precious time he could be doing what he wants, not stuck in bed because of an item she made Architect-knows-how-long-ago...

These thoughts, and that she's surprised he would ask after her even when he's exhausted and hurt, delay her response.

But, at long last, and what seems like a heavy dose of conflict, she answers honestly: ]

...I.... still want to go camping with you.

[ Like what they talked about months prior, sitting about a camp fire together, just them. ]

[His brows lift. He'd halfway-expected some resistance, or that she'd evade an answer entirely, and he's too out of it to pick a fight right now. To get an answer right away like that (she'd even said the word!) has him immediately surprised and genuinely pleased about it.]

Oh man, that's right... I completely forgot. Maybe when it warms up a bit? Camping in the snow sounds kinda advanced for my tastes.

[As much as he loves a good cuddle with his very warm girlfriend, the cold sucks and gets to all the places she can't touch all at once.]

[ She smiles, reflectively, ] Another plan for the future, mm?

[ Her wants will have to wait, which is fine-- because if he hadn't asked about them, she wouldn't have thought about it. For now, she will remain content to be with him here. ] I like that.

Let's see, what else. How about...

[He draws his arm back, holding two cookies from the plate this time. One goes to his mouth, and the other presses up to hers.]

You can put stuff in the armory, too.

[The armory... stomach. Though the literal phrasing is true as well- something that he wonders if she'd realized, since she'd sort of put Mythra in his armory herself. He sure hadn't been in any state to do it.]

[ With the cookie pressed to her lips, she opens her mouth to take one delicate bite. In some sense, she has a literal void (of light) as a stomach. The cookie will be amassed into it.

Does this mean he still trusts her with putting and pulling things from his armory? Better question: the Fetter is stable, but how does he feel with it still being there in his armory, when it nearly killed him? ]

I.... ah, [ At risk of turning this conversation more somber, she continues: ] I think that putting things into your armory will have to exclude both eggplants and unstable energies.

[ ... ]

I'm sorry, Noct, but... I didn't have a chance to ask before. How do you feel-- still carrying it?

[He responds with a vague "hmm" sort of noise, chewing thoughtfully as he finishes his cookie. A fair question, and one he hadn't put much thought into, since he's been sleeping so much. There is some aspect of discomfort involved in carrying it, but it's not as if that's a deterrent for anything else he's got in there. The Royal Arms make him uncomfortable, as does the ring if when he's wearing or carrying it normally- they're going to kill him eventually. At least he's carrying the Omega Fetter for a more selfless purpose than collecting more power he probably doesn't need in this place.

He swallows the last of the cookie and rests a hand on his chest, rubbing at some nonexistent soreness with a pensive look.]

You said... the Fetter was like that because someone messed with it, right?

[ Finishing off her own cookie with a series of petite bite, her eyes track the movement of his hand rubbing at his chest for a few moments. ]

I, ah, yes. [ She nods. ] But if it makes you uncomfortable, let's take it out and... I'll think of something to handle it.

[ Ah, good. She managed to say that without a stutter, even if she doesn't have a plan formed yet of what she would do with it. ]

[Hang on, what.]

Wh- no, that's not- [He blinks at her for a moment, surprised by the sudden shift, then moves his hand to his face to rub at it.] Ugh, come on... I was just asking to make sure. Don't assume the answer's no before I give it...

[He's trying to make an informed decision for once in his Bahamut-damned life. Is she jumping to make life easier for him because of the guilt or because she's too selfless when it comes to him again?]

[ She shakes her head, earnest, but fumbls as she becomes distracted. By the end her voice drifts, her point forgotten. ] Oh, no, I just hope that you, ah-- That you do not feel as if you have to, and...

[ Because now she's really looking at that hand.

There's a scar where he wears the ring. Somnus had that same scar where he once wore the Ring.

Without thinking, Pyra lifts her own hand to delicately brush her fingers against the faint scar now marking the imprint of the Ring. ] Noct...

[He pauses at the touch, slowly lowering his hand to look, though he knows what she's focused on before he sees it. Beyond the original circle he'd noticed since he first started wearing it here, those dark vein-line marks had never remained on his flesh longer than a handful of seconds, 20 at most. This is the first time that they'd lingered longer on him, long enough to be assumed permanent. It's a mark he'd seen before, and he knew it was possible; his father's face had a handful of them in the final years, creeping further and further as the ring sapped away more of his lifespan. Seeing the damage on his own body was a little jarring the first time he noticed, as if it at last hammered home that he too would share that fate, a life gone too soon, consumed by the power of the ring and their crystal. He understands her fear, but it isn't what scares him the most.

He can't reach into the armory right now, with his magic still stabilizing itself, but he can reach into his pocket, so he pulls out the ring and holds it in front of her, resting innocently on his palm.]

Pyra... you know... I carry this with me everywhere. Three people died trying to deliver it to me. [His father, Nyx, Luna. They're here, but back home, their sacrifices are heavy on his heart.] And someday it's gonna kill me too, along with all the Royal Arms I've gathered.

[It's grim, but... it has to be said.]

This ring... even before I knew my future, I thought it would take my life. All the kings know, that's how it works. I grew up knowing this. [Morbid, so morbid. He wishes it wasn't, but that's Lucis, through and through.] But I carry it anyway, because if I have it with me, that means no one else can find it.

[His gaze shifts downwards, recalling Ignis' plea. "Promise me that you won't let it fall into the wrong hands."]

It's better if stuff like this is kept safe, and out of reach, so no one else gets hurt.

IC Contact | Hugtopia

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