#gladio mori

[randomtangle]

NextFest Demos General Review

I'm gonna write what I think of the demos I played this NextFest. Each title is a link to the Steam Page, be sure to grab yourself a demo if NextFest isn't over (June 10-17, 2024). If not, some of them might still have public demos, and some of them might be out by the time you read this!

NextFest has ended but demos still remain! Check them out or wishlist them if they’re in pre-release.

500 Caliber Contractz

Mario 64 but you have a high-caliber sniper rifle. It's honestly more often a movement tool than a weapon, and the movement tech in this game is quite interesting. I haven't gotten it quite down yet. I’ll write more about it later.

Aero GPX

Reminds me of Kirby Air Ride.

Airborne Empire

This game is seriously addictive. I meant to give it 30 minutes (around the minimum time I’ve been giving there games), and it took 3 hours. The whole conceit of the game is that you are building an airborne city. All sorts of things matter, such as the tilt (you can’t just pile it all onto one side), the lift (you need to add fans, which need to be manned by citizens, to allow for enough lift to build more stuff), and propulsion (buildings will slow you down, so you can build propellers and stuff to help you move faster), as well as food and water and coal) to keep everything running) and various building resources which you gather by deploying workers to deposits on the land using a hangar. Light is also important to stop accidents at night… there’s all the little systems you need to manage. I really love it. Usually in city builders I get really stressed about strategic placement and how me not leaving space next to that big useless rock turns out to be a mistake when I advance in the tech tree and learn the rock is actually the most useful and I trapped it under an underpass. Airborne Empires can have the “I didn’t know how big this building is so I didn’t leave enough space here” problem (I really wish I could preview buildings before I had the resources to build them), but it’s mostly fine. The tilt and lighting systems lead to making a spread-out base. You recruit more citizens by hiring them from settlements below, but you’ll have to feed them all, and at least where I am in the game, you can only gather food and water, not generate it.it’s visually very cute, all the people are birds, and the talking sounds are birdcalls. It’s pretty chill most of the time, even the occasional pirate attack isn’t that bad, especially if you get defense towers, since you can repair pretty quickly. I could play the game for days on end, honestly. I love it.

Akimbot

A very fun 3D platformer, reminds me of Ratchet & Clank, Crash Bandicoot, Skylanders, etc. The whole game looks really nice and stylized. I played with the Acid Sprayer and found it to be very fun. The voice acting and dialogue were a smidge lacking at times (Exe feels compelled to go "Tch" every time Shipset talks, and Shipset cannot shut up, but it didn't annoy me.) Overall I'm excited to see how the full game turns out!

Aloft

I didn’t find Aloft interesting. It’s not that I don’t like survival games, per se, it’s that my patience with survival games is really low. (300 hours of DST has changed me.) They need to be really interesting for me to stick, because if not, I sink untold hours into them getting progressively more and more annoyed. Aloft is probably someone’s cup of tea, but it ain’t mine. Sorry.

Beyond These Stars

Coming Soon!

Dice & Fold

A very fun roguelike deckbuilder game that's more about rolling dice than drawing cards. Enemies have slots you must fill to defeat them. Some enemies require exact rolls (say, a 3), and some just have numbers that have to be reduced (say, a 5, and you could put a 2 and a 3 in it to complete the slot). And there's more like doubles slots, slots that only accept odd or even numbers, etc. Your hero has an ability that you can earn by filling in the required slot on your hero card, there's all sorts of items and companions that alter the game in little ways... it's really fun and I'd love to play more of it in the future!

Dimhaven Enigmas

I love the graphics, just to get that out of the way. Pixilated textures are to die for, I’m a huge sucker for PSX or DS/3DS-style textures. It’s an interesting puzzle game, it’s pretty intriguing, but dangit if I’m not bad at puzzles, lmao. It’s tough! It really makes you work for the answer, I like that, but I can’t really write review of a completed demo because of it. Try it out!

Dustborn

It seemed… interesting. The graphics look good, the fight mechanics seem to have a bit of meat, but are sorta unseasoned. (They don’t feel like they flow that easily into each other but that might just be a personal skill issue.) The humor and writing isn’t really my cup of tea, it feels sorta like they’re always talking, and the lines in combat seem to overlap sometimes but I’m sure that’s unintended. Idk if I personally will be buying the full game, I’d rather wait for a review of the full game to see if I wanna buy it, but I don’t hate it.

Gladio Mori

Gladio Mori explores an interesting concept of a physics-based medieval weapon fighting game that oftentimes feels a bit like TABS if you were in complete control of a unit. It's definitely interesting. Right now there's only 3 weapons and no move editor, but I feel like the simple existence of a move editor means that in the future, there's untold levels of complexity to be found in this game. Has multiplayer!

Goblin Cleanup

It’s fun. There’s not much to say about it, as it’s just a simpler Viscera Cleanup Detail, but it’s cute, honestly. There’s some interesting quirks and level progression things, such as being able to light slimes on fire to be semi-infinite, faster mops, and you can do a lot with traps and stuff. Sorta simple as-is, unless I just missed the really cool stuff. (I haven’t played all of the demo yet, only the first two levels.)

I Am Your Beast

This game is amazing. The presentation of cutscenes is phenomenal; I really love the big bold letters and colored background. It's simple but it does its job. The voice acting is great, too. And the gameplay is just amazing. The amount of speed and precision you can move and attack with is on point. I'd suggest everyone

Kaiserpunk

Coming Soon!

KILL KNIGHT

Kill Knight has some wicked graphics. They look like they’re crackling with an unchained energy, power so great it corrodes the world. The gameplay is tough, I can barely survive a few waves, but the combat is promisingly meaty. Sword kills fuel the heavy weapon, and enemy drops can fuel the bfg thing (forgot its name). I’m not used to twin-stick shooters so I don’t know how much is innovative and interesting and how much is in every twin-stick shooter, but I certainly found the game really interesting. Really tough, but really interesting.

MACHI KORO With Everyone

Only the offline tutorial as of now, which is kinda annoying since i can't even try to run an offline hotseat game. But, it teaches Machi Koro pretty well. I like Machi Koro I like this game. It is nothing more or less than being just Machi Koro.

Metal Slug Tactics

Coming Soon!

Once Human

Open-World Survival Horror MMO. I’m only into survival horror, really, and was playing alone (I’m not that into MMOs except with friends). The systems seem okay, the combat is about what you would expect with heavy and light attacks and simple chains… the character creator is pretty good. (And I love myself a good character creator.) Not my cup of tea.

One Btn Bosses

It’s a bullet hell but you only need one button. Your “ship” moves on a ring outside the boss, and you use the button to change directions. The faster you’re moving (you gain more speed the longer you travel in a given direction), the faster you shoot. That’s about it for the systems (that I could see, at least. I haven’t beat it.) it’s fun, I’d recommend it to anyone. After all, you only need to press one button!

SCHiM

A very cute puzzle game where you play as the shadow of this one guy. You jump from shadow to shadow to navigate the levels. The art is beautiful accented neutrals, the music and sound design is really cute and musical, reminiscent of Untitled Goose Game. It’s really cute!

Screw Drivers

It’s Lego Technic as a racing game. To be completely honest, it just didn’t click well with me. The building aspect of it felt like every Lego Technic I’ve ever built, plus actual engineering. You need to connect the engine to the axel to the drive wheels, and set those to steerable… I know that’s simple, but it’s a bit too complicated for me to play that much. I’m a simple woman. Seemed fun to drive the cars, tho.

SWORN

It’s Hades but with Arthurian Legend. I don’t really know what more to say. It controls like Hades (well, I played Hades on the Switch, so maybe keybinds are different than I expect) it’s got similar systems of boons, in-level currency and cumulative secondary currencies, et cetera, et cetera. This isn’t a slight against it, I really like it! I can’t really speak for its writing since I can’t find much and I’m sure not all of it is in as of yet, but what I could find in-game was interesting. I don’t quite understand the world and how the Holy Grail and pagan deities and King Arthur all feed into why these monsters are about, but I’m assuming that’s elaborated on as you go through. I’d be willing to get the full game.

Tactical Breach Wizards

I adore this game. The graphics are really cute, the combat puzzles are really interesting and fun (I like this genre of games, I’m totally blanking on the name tho) and the writing… oh the writing. The writing is so good. The jokes are right up my alley, the story is really interesting, the world is the right amount of absurd that the characters can be deadpan about always having newt bones on their person that you can tell that it’s just as much of a half-joke in-universe as you’d expect. It’s really fun and I’m hoping to play the full game upon release.

Tavern Talk

I loved this game. The sound design is so peaceful and soothing, the writing I really like, there’s a lot of good jokes and just tender moments. I love Fable, the main other character in the game. They’re an anxious ranger who wants to get out into the world and go on adventures, they’re so cute. The other character, Caerlin, is nice too. The art is beautiful, I’m really invested in it now! I need to get the full game!

Tiny Glade

Cute game where you can do a bit of finely-controlled procedural generation of a little landscape, and take photos of it. I played game last NextFest called Dystopika that was like this but with a cyberpunk city. Tiny Glade is cute, simple, and allows you to make little houses and landscapes. It’s cute, I’m sure people will like it, but it just ain’t my genre.

[theemotionmachine]

50+ Motivational Latin Proverbs to Elevate Your Thinking to New Levels

- Acta non verba ("deeds not words")

- Ad meliora ("towards better things")

- Ad victoriam ("to victory")

- Audere est faucere ("to dare is to do")

- Astra inclinant, sed non obligant ("the stars incline us, they do not bind us")

- Bono malum superate ("good will overcome evil")

- Carpe diem ("seize the day")

- Calamus gladio fortior ("the pen is mightier than the sword")

- Cogito, ergo sum ("I think, therefore I am")

- Cras es noster ("tomorrow, be ours")

- Dictum factum ("what is said is done")

- Duc, sequere, aut de via decede ("lead, follow, or get out of the way")

- Dum spiro, spero ("while I breathe, I hope")

- Ego te provoco ("I challenge you")

- Est modus in rebus ("there is a middle way in all things")

- Faber est suae quisque fortunae ("every man is the artisan of his own fortune")

- Familia supra omnia ("family over everything")

- Fons vitae caritas ("love is the fountain of life")

- Fortiter et fideliter ("bravely and faithfully")

- Gladiator in arena consilium capit ("the gladiator is formulating his plan in the arena")

- Grandescunt aucta labore ("by work, all things increase and grow")

- Humilitas occidit superbiam ("humility kills pride")

- Igne natura renovatur integra ("through fire nature is reborn whole")

- Incepto ne desistam ("may I not shrink from my purpose")

- Magna est vis consuetudinis ("great is the power of habit")

- Memento mori ("remember you must die")

- Memento vivere ("remember you have to live")

- Memores acti prudentes future ("mindful of what has been done, aware of what will be")

- Morior invictus ("death before defeat")

- Non ducor, duco ("I am not led, I lead")

- Omne initium difficile est ("every beginning is difficult")

- Ordo ab chao ("order out of chaos")

- Palma non sine pulvere ("no reward without effort")

- Pax vobiscum ("peace be with you")

- Praesis ut prosis ne ut imperes ("lead in order to serve, not in order to rule")

- Praemonitus, praemunitus ("forewarned is forearmed")

- Primum non nocere ("first do no harm")

- Qui non proficit, deficit ("he who does not advance, goes backward")

- Qui totum vult totum perdit ("he who wants everything loses everything")

- Sapientia potentia est ("wisdom is power")

- Si vis amari, ama ("if you wish to be loved, love")

- Sic parvis magna ("greatness from small beginnings")

- Sic vita est ("such is life")

- Suum cuique ("to each his own")

- Tempus fugit ("time flies")

- Tendit in ardua virtus ("virtue strives for what is difficult")

- Ubi concordia, ibi victoria ("where is unity, there is victory")

- Vacate et scire ("be still and know")

- Veni, vidi, vici ("I came, I saw, I conquered")

- Verba volant, scripta manent ("words fly away, writing remains")

- Vincit qui se vincit ("he conquers who conquers himself")

[tomorrowedblog]

First look at Gladio Mori

A new trailer has been released for Gladio Mori. No release date was specified.

Gladio Mori is a cutting-edge physics-based multiplayer fighting game where you use razor-sharp weapons to cut down your enemies or die trying. Pick your blade, choose your armour and create a fighting style unique to you. Enter the arena to face your friends or hone your abilities against the AI.

[spitfirerose]

She exists Part 2 feat. Aranea, 2/3 Bros, and Prompto BEING A LIL SHIT. She kicked him down and he died. That's my girl.

[asuraaa]

Question: What inspired you to make this comic/these characters?

TL;DR: MY LOVE OF OCS, HISTORY, AND BL DRAMA.

LONG VERSION: okay it really is kinda hard to pin any specific inspiration other than i just really like OCs and historical fiction and this character dynamic, but i feel like i get this question and similar ones a lot SO I'M JUST GONNA REALLY DIG INTO IT THIS TIME, give as thorough of an answer as i can.

so in 2009, i played ragnarok online. A LOT. i played with my friend jenny (who is the comic co-writer) and we would make dumb characters and then get super attached to them. she made an airship pirate sniper named cicada, and i made a posh politician wizard named gladimir. they looked like this:

my goal in designing glad was to make him the prettiest OC i had. most of my OCs are like... lanky old men and quirky ugly dudes, but glad was going to be GORGEOUS. and thus i made him to my taste, the prettiest boy i could manage. i'm just really into twinky pretty boys with bobs, so i guess you could call them my inspiration. here's some OG 2009 gladios:

they're a dime a dozen in mainstream media now, see lio fotia, yuri plisetsky, shion kiba, that fairy prince from FGO... but glad predates them all, i was just following my heart LOL. characters like xellos from slayers or garma from gundam may have played a subconscious inspo role, but i only realized this in hindsight years later. tho weirdly enough they're both purple:

anyway, jenny and i RPed a lot; having a friend to RP and be invested in OCs with you is always hugely invaluable inspiration for anything, i think! eventually our ragnarok online story kinda hit a dead end and got dropped for a while, until we picked it up again in 2015, and started exploring... ALTERNATE UNIVERSES. and the AU of "what if glad was a prince" just fucking TOOK OFF. insert old 2015 first doodle here:

inspiration for THAT came from an alanis morissette song that i've linked before, which was this one LOL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGYCyQfbFHM

it gave me the idea for the golden trial in the comic, which served as the base for a whole new world of RP and plot building. IN FACT i would say that music in general became a huge point of inspiration, specifically french music due to the nature of glad's made up country being some french/english hybrid. so on that note, let me link you some more inspiration songs:

- french drama vibes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UN4VLmo1QG4

- french emotional vibes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CfW5FQ5iv2E

- english plot vibes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAI5mYVWotI

the inspo for the overall aesthetic of the characters just comes purely from history and historical fiction vibes that i like. royal european clothing and the age of sail are hot. i think there's some subconscious inspiration from utena and gundam as well:

and inspo for the overall story i cant attribute to anything specific other than my friend’s interest, love for BL comics, and glad and cicada's character tropes. i love a classic brain & brawn duo, i love a short king with top energy, i love a heart of gold rowdy boy, and i love when you think two characters are completely opposite and then they turn out to be actually pretty similar. i don't know of any media that specifically fed me these vibes within the time frame we were making this story, but i will say that when promare came out it was PRETTY DAMN GREAT. here's glad dressed as lio because image breaks:

lastly, what inspired me to actually make the comic: memento mori. like many people, i just sit on my flat ass making stories with my friends that will never be shared outside of that friend group, and for the most part i am 100% perfectly okay with this! but deep down i just knew i wanted to actually make a comic... i wanted to be able to look back on my life and say HEY, YOU DID IT, YOU MADE A THING. i'm a story lover, i'm a story teller, and i just needed to finally indulge in this in a more tangible way. dead men tell no tales.

i was in my 30s when i started drawing the comic. it's never too late to start. >:9 start yours today.

o and i guess the narrative itself is just a general mishmash of ideas and tropes i think are fun, there’s no specific inspo there either. i like 90s anime, old video games, historical movies and documentaries, etc. i do pull from age of sail and pirate history for sure, that’s def a general inspiration for me! here’s some of my books on the subject, feel free to ask me for more titles/reccs if you’re into this stuff huhu:

ALSO, the comic had no name until after i started drawing it, but the name came from a song as well, pls enjoy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6R-BR9bzdMM

anyway i guess that's the deep dive into the inspo! if i think of anything else i'll just add it in later but MAN IF YOU READ THIS FAR, YOU ARE A ROCKSTAR. hope this answered everything and more, thanks for the question!!

[noodle-anon-shit]

Voice HCs:

Gabe: Prompto from FFXV

Noodles: Me...idk how to describe my voice

Finn: Saint Bernard

Vex: Legoshi from Beastars (If you wanna hear him singing, he's the second voice)

Alroy: The demon from Devils Train (his part starts around 4:30)

Dean: Cole Cassidy from Overwatch (Fuck Blizzard)

Singe: Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world

Mori, in her normal form (which she hasn't been in yet): My Jolly Sailor Bold (but it's gay)

Ames: Gladio from FFXV

Pink: Fix-It Felix from Wreck-It Ralph (It started as an inside joke and it stuck)

Sam: Oops!

Lech: prom dress

Harvey: The guy from the Pumpkin Head Harvey song

Nightshade: I can't find anyone good for her

Milo: Also can't find a good voice

[fictionalhusbandxyou-blog]

Shows and Characters I write for

Attack on Titan

Erwin Smith

Levi Ackerman

Jean Kirstein

Final Fantasy series

Zack Fair

Cloud Strife

Sephiroth

Vincent Valentine

Reno

Noctis

Prompto

Ignis

Gladio

Nyx

Kingdom Hearts 

Riku

Terra

Vanitas

All of then men from Organization 13

Oran high school host club

Takashi "Mori" Morinozuka

Gintama

Gintoki Sakata

Hijikata Toushirou

Sougo Okita

Death Note

L

One Punch Man

Saitama

Geno

Cowboy Bebop

Spike

Naruto

Kakashi

Naruto

Shikamaru

Itachi

Magi: Adventure of Sinbad

Sinbad

Avatar the last Airbender

Zuko

Sokka

Mako

Seven Deadly Sins

Ban

Samurai Champloo

Mugen

Jin

My Hero Academia

Shota Aizawa 

black butler

sebastian

If you have a character you’d like me to write for just message me and I’ll see what I can do :)

[brosura]

For the fic writers ask meme: #6 and #17

wow thanks!

6: hardest/easiest character to write for?

i’m gonna go w ffxv characters because that’s what i’m Known for. hardest:

i think the hardest i’ve worked with recently is gladio and it’s why u rarely (i.e. never) see me write from his POV, idk we just don’t click. 

luna can be hard sometimes too just bc i feel like i’m baking from scratch and hoping the brownies taste the same. 

aranea i think can be hard for me sometimes too because with her you have to strike a careful balance between cynical and hopeful and i always worry i overdo it

easiest: 

easiest is prompto by far! he’s colloquial and anxious and i RELATE. 

ignis is pretty easy for me too just because the voice i tend to use for him is my second default narrative voice (prompto is the first)

noctis is also easy because he’s just a balance between prompto and ignis in terms of style and i sprinkle some cheese in there because he seems like a boy who loves people a lot and loves them deeply but doesn’t know how to say it!

17: do you listen to music while you write?

hell yeah!!! i usually pick a song that fits the vibe of what i’m writing or carries the central theme and just play it on repeat so it doesn’t distract me!! an example is that for a lot of my promp//tis fic i played roses (ft. rozes lol) because it has that ‘chill afternoon w ya boo’ vibe. and for memento mori it was honestly… a lot of carly rae… a lot of miss jepsen. 

in general if i just need to write it’s the PACIFIC R1M THEME SONG YOU CAN FIGHT THE HURRICANE YOU CAN WIN

thanks again!!!

[ask meme for writers] [inbox]

[itshaejinju]

“May I have this dance?” Omg Noctis :O Like what we talked about the other night xD

FINALLY! Kept changing a few things. Damn inspiration or whateves. :D

Word count: 3,271 Warnings>: JEALOUS NOCTIS, possessive Noctis, rough sex.

Also a few cameos and hints at things that I like the idea of. Like Cor and Talcott being related. Wonder if everyone will pick up on the little things. hehe

Tagging: @themissimmortal @stunninglyignis @stephicness @neko-otaku13 @insomniacapples @cactwerk @laili2104 @mistressoli @miss-scientia @misssarahdoll @major-artery @sylleblossompetals @lupanaoflaminar @gudetamazing @nifwrites

“MayI have this dance?” A ambassador asked heragain it was at least the fifth dance she has been apart of since thestart of this gala event.

Notonce has she danced with her husband, the King of Insomnia NoctisLucis Caelum the Savior, the one to end the Starscourge and live totell the tale. The gala was to celebrate the first birthday of theheir to the throne, Iskra the little one was finally making her firstbirthday and this was a formal party for her. Of course the “star”of the party had gone to bed hours ago but all the adults were stillup and going because this really was just a party of pleasure.

ExpectNoctis was not having any pleasure at all.

Infact he was feeling, rage, jealously and a headache brewing. Everytime he went to approach his beautiful wife and queen someone wouldeither get to her first and ask for a dance or someone would come upto him to talk about the recent rebuilding of the Regis UniversityBuilding. It was getting on his nerves seeing that beautiful dresshug her perfect form while other men had their hands on her, somewere proper holding them practically a foot from her body.

BUTthere were others that had their hands practically all over her, fromher hips to her sides to her shoulders. It was becoming too much forNoctis to handle things just kept getting in his way to you and hewas trying to be civil and adult about it but the little greenmonster that appeared on his shoulder was taking on a the size ofGladiolus very quickly.

“HeyNoct, smile!” Prompto shouted as he came over to his best friend,his lovely wife standing beside him eying the crowd a smirk on herface as she spotted the Queen.

Promptowas holding his trusty camera right in front of Noctis, there as noway he could even fake a smile at the moment. He wanted to take thenewly appointed representative of Lestallum and beat him over thehead with a engine blade as his hands traveled low down on your hips.Noctis bit his tongue turning dangerously jealous blue eyes towardsthe smiling shutterbug.

“Notnow Prom.” Noctis said pushing him away some, moving towards thethrone where his wine was sitting he needed a drink.

“Butit’s for the paper!” Prompto said rushing over to his friend whowas downing the wine rather quickly.

“PromptoI don’t care who it is for, okay? I am not in the mood for anything.”Noctis growled as his purple tinged eyes focused on his loving wife.

~~

“Youknow your daughter will grow up to be a lovely bride to be you knowthat? I have a son just a year older…” A member of the councilfrom a newly reformed Nifelheim had said as his hands pressed to yoursides making you loose your breath a bit, this was starting to gettoo much and where was Noctis in all of this?

“Thatis nothing I want to be talking about right now.” You repliedlooking towards the throne where you found your husband who wastalking to Prompto.

Promptowas snapping photos of him Noctis was no happy you could tell it bythe look on his face and that face was so pouty right now you reallywanted to kiss it until he smiled.

“Wellit’s the best time to do that arranged marriages generally happen bythe time the daughter reaches two, consider me a go getter if youwill my Queen.” He spoke again the leering tone in his voicestrong.

“Ahno that is something that my husband the King will be dealing withand I will assist him in it but honestly I am not all that big onarranged marriages.” You answered him as the song ended, pullingaway quickly, you wanted to see your husband.

“MyMajesty this dance please!” Talcott Hester had asked of you,looking down at you charmingly with those large brown eyes.

Youcouldn’t resist Talcott he had rescued Noctis when he had emergedfrom the Crystal and had been such a great help ever since. Plus hewas so sweet. Nodding you started the next song with him, he wasreally polite where he held his hands looking a bit shy as herealized that a hand needed to go to your waist. Nervously clearinghis throat gingerly placed a hand there barely touching the dressitself.

“Itwas nice of you to invite me to the party, not really royalty oranything.” Talcott said giving you a broad smile, perfect whiteteeth flashing adoringly.

“Ohof course Talcott all the nice things you’ve done since Iskra hasbeen born and beforehand really, I would have to be foolish not toinvolve you and your Uncle.” You said as you spotted Cor Leonisconversing with a unknown female.

“Isaw how they were treating you earlier, you know? I don’t really knowhow to dance beyond this little two step.” Talcott replied as youhad noticed he was only shuffling his feet awkwardly.

“Theywere just being drunk nobles.” You said with a sigh.

“WellI don’t like it and I am sure if Noctis wasn’t busy with Prompto andGladiolus right now he would be upset by it as well. You are theQueen and should be respected like a angel. They were rather touchyfeely.”

“Thankyou Talcott.” You said softly. “Let me show you how to dance inreturn.”

Slowlyyou took the lead changing hands making the young male blush like madas you led him along the way. There was a few people that noticed andgiggled by the view of the tall young being led on the dance floor bythe Queen of Insomnia.

“Justlike this you see?”

“It’shard…like I need to see my feet to make sure they are going theright way.” He complained a pout on his lips.

“Ohthat’s cute Talcott.” You teased, you saw him as a little brotherhonestly, you knew him since he was a kid. “You got to go with theflow of the music.”

~~

“Lookslike Talcott is getting awfully close to your lovely lady.”Gladiolus teased as he spotted the Queen.

“WHAT?”Noctis shouted eyes widening as he had lost sight of his wife in thecrowd when he spotted her again he was starting to loose his cool.

“She’steaching him to dance isn’t that adorable. They are really close youknow that?” Prompto remarked offhandedly, shrugging narrowshoulders.

“True.”Gladiolus added.

“Don’tthe two of you have something better to do? I’m pretty sure Mori islooking for you Gladio.” Ignis said as he slowly made his way overto the King even if he was blind he knew when Noctis was in distress.

Ignistook a seat beside Noctis, his rightfully spot ad Royal Adviser, helistened to all the sounds of the room enjoying the happiness aroundhim glad that he did not loose his eyesight for nothing. He couldhear Noctis grinding his teeth beside him, he knew the King wellenough to know he was seething with jealousy, jaw set in a firm line,eyes narrowed that slight hint of purple in them as the Lucian magicrose up in him.

“Shesees him as a brother honestly, you do know that right?” Ignisasked Noctis trying to calm him down knowing that his jealousy wasdangerous.

“Yourealize I have not danced with MY wife at all tonight? I have notspent one second with her every time I go that way I get interruptedor she does. Who do they think she is something to pass along? She ismy wife Ignis!” Noctis said the wine had started to work on himcausing him to shout and be more vocal.

Hehad pounded the arm of the throne glaring at the back of Talcott’shead in a angry expression.

“Areyou mad at Talcott in particular, Noctis?” Ignis quipped.

“NoI am mad at everyone here. All of them touching and feeling up mywife dancing with her improperly.” Noctis said his tone loud andhis blue eyes were more purple now as his emotions were getting thebetter of him.

“Idon’t see you trying now, I am sure young Talcott will make sure noone else steps in for you. Green really does suit you.”

“You’reblind how would you know?” Noctis growled turning to his oldestfriend knowing his words cut him but he was too upset to really care.

“SometimesI think I see better now that I am blind, Noct. Now go over therebefore I have to shove you, Your Majesty.”

AsNoctis rose his eyes were firm on you, they were not moving in theslightly from your gorgeous visage. He was beyond jealous from allthe attention you were getting and he couldn’t give you one ounce ofhis attention – the only attention that truly matter to you. Or atleast that’s what he hoped.

“OhTalcott good job see didn’t step on my toes once.” You said happilyas the song ended you reached up giving him a sisterly hug making theboy blush like crazy.

“MyQueen…” Noctis said there was a growling tone in his voice, ashe appeared beside you.

“Mylove.” You said cheerfully turning to him. “I just taught Talcotthow to dance it was quite fun.”

“I’msure it was,” His tone was stiff and rough making you a bit shockednot hearing that dark tone in quite a while.

“UmNoctis?” You asked a bit confused.

“Shush.”Noctis ordered as he tugged you bodily into his arms, wrapping hisarms around your body holding you close.

“Noctis.. .please we are in a room full of people.”

“Iwant them to know you belong to me, you are my queen, my wife and theone I can touch whenever and wherever I want to.” He saidpossessively leaning in to place a kiss on your golden painted lips.

“Noctisnot in public like this.” You whined as he placed a kiss on yourlips, holding you possessively in his strong arms not caring whatothers were seeing or thinking about the King of Insomnia.

“Theyneed to know.” He growled pressing his forehead against yours,staring at you deep into your hetero-chromatic eyes, his a brightintense purple color.

“Ithink they know now.” You said as you looked around out of thecorner of your eyes there was the whole room staring at the displayNoctis was making out of everything.

“Oh!”Prompto’s wife let out in a please squeak as Prompto swept her up inhis arms kissing her mimicking Noctis.

Therewas a pleased moan not to far off from Noctis as Gladiolus did thesame thing to his girlfriend then everyone in the room started to goback on their own way. Noctis stared down at you his hands movingfrom your hips to your wrist pulling you from the dance floor to thehallway. You were getting worried he was holding on your hands rathertight and he looked rather upset was he jealous? Upset on somethingyou had said? Or done? You started to feel a bit of panic as Noctispulled you into the nearest room which happened to be a meeting roomone of the smaller ones used on the weekends if there was somethingneeded of his royal advice.

Lockingthe door behind him Noctis pinned you against the wall pressing hisbody against yours staring at you as he flicked the lights on. Noctisstared down at you with such a jealous expression it hit you he wasupset by the others dancing with you the whole time. A smile playedon your lips which made him glare at you as he found out his issues,full lips darted to your neck sucking and biting on it roughly makingyou moan loudly.

“It’snot fair that they danced with you all night my love I didn’t get thefirst dance or any dances. I didn’t get to spend any time with you,you are my wife the one I love.” He said passionately in betweenhot kisses, to your neck.

“AhNoct…”

“Whois your king?” Noctis growled as his eyes flickered up to yours.

“Youare my king, my own and only king.” You panted heavily as heslipped his hands to your back reaching for the zipper of your silverdress.

“Yes,who do you belong to?” He questioned as he unzipped the dressletting cool air hit your lower back as the low slung dress becameloose on you.

“You.. .” You whimpered.

“Ididn’t hear you.” He replied grinding his hips against your waist.

“YOU!”You shouted loudly as he bit down on your collarbone.

“AndI am?” He teased now as his tongue flicked over the bite.

“YOUNOCTIS!” You shouted again as he undid the strapless bra you hadbeen wearing you were just in your underwear now.

“Thisis all mine to enjoy? I should be the only one touching the sinfullygorgeous body.”

“Yes,just you and only you Noctis.” You moaned as he his hands grabbedat the black thong underwear pulling them down past your knees and tothe floor.

“Weshouldn’t here…what if we get caught?” You panicked at therealization that you were in a meeting room only a little ways fromthe room full of dignitaries and friends.

“Idon’t care this is my palace so I can do whatever I want in it and Iwant to fuck you.”

Noctisgot on his knees spreading your legs open as he started to lick atyour clit his tongue going back and forth as he held your hips firmlyin placing keeping you from squirming. Nestling your fingers in hishair tugging on the long tresses some, his beard rubbing against yourthighs and lips making such a good sensation to your body. Reachinghis right hand down in between your legs he curled a finger insidespreading the wetness around his fingers listening to your moans ashis tongue flicked over your clit again.

“OhNoct…” You moaned loudly.

“Thisis all mine…” Noctis moaned as he sucked your clit right intohis mouth biting on it a little.

“AH!”You shouted in pleasure as a second finger pushed inside of youscissoring back and forth in your pussy.

“Allof this is mine.”

“Makingme sound like a object, Noctis.”

“Myqueen my love…” Noctis moaned as he started to moved hisfingers in and out of you faster letting the juices slide down hispalm down his wrist.

Youcouldn’t think straight any longer it was becoming to much for you tohandle. The whimper you let out as you held back the orgasm that wason the edge of bursting through, Noctis pressed a third finger inknowing you couldn’t hold any longer.

“Don’tdeny me what I have worked for, my queen. I need this I deservethis.” He said roughly a slow lick against your pussy.

“AH!”You shouted again as you let loose your whole body shaking going weakin the knees as Noctis grabbed you supporting you from falling to theground he kissed you passionately letting you taste your cum on hislips.

Noctisunzipped his pant pulling out his hard cock, reaching hands to undohis belt and pants he swatted them away from you as he roughly pulledyou to the large oval table. Bending you over the table squeezingyour legs together Noctis shoved his cock roughly in between yourclosed legs pushing through your wet lips. It was tighter that wayand Noctis loved it that way specially hearing you whimper under himas he forced himself in it brought a sick thrill to him. Once hiscock was all the way in his large hands held on your hips squeezingthem roughly surely leaving bruises if not red hand prints.

“Ineed to mark you all over cover up what those idiots did to mybeautiful queen.” Noctis grunted as he started to pounded into youspreading you right open.

“Theydidn’t hurt me…” You panted heavily.

“Theytouched you and placed their stench on you and their filth I don’twant that.” He said placing kisses on your exposed back, his beardtickling your back some as he did.

“Yesfix it…” You moaned in agreement as his cock just kept hittingyour g-spot making you see stars as it just felt so good.

“Iplan on it and when we walk back out I don’t want you to fix yourhair or anything I want them to know.” He ordered.

Reachingforward Noctis grabbed your right breast squeezing it tightly,pulling on the harden nipple causing you to scream in pleasure. Hegrabbed at the other breast loving that scream that escaped yourlips, he wanted to hear more of it needed more of it. Pulling on themagain roughly this time, pinching on them hard his cock hitting hardsolid thrust in you tight wet pussy making such lewd sounds in theroom. It was so loud of your moans and Noctis’ grunts and theslapping of skin against skin it was just so much.

Noctispulled out you quickly flipping you around and sitting you up on thetable which you were a bit glad for because your legs were shakinglike crazy and could hardly hold you up any longer. Spreading yourlegs wide he shoved himself right back in as you wrapped your legsaround his narrow waist pulling him deep inside your pussy, almosthitting your cervix in this position, cock just brushing against yourg-spot making everything just so intense.

“Ohto the Six yes!” You shouted as he kept pounding into you makingyou scream over and over as you were enjoying yourself so much.

Noctisattacked your neck with kisses and sharp bites leaving dark hickiesall over your neck, his hands yanking on your hair pulling it back ashe kept thrusting into you. He reached a hand down rubbing your clitas he did that sent you right over board again cumming for a secondtime this time right on his cock, droplets of cum dripping down ontothe table surely staining it.

Histhrust became a bit sloppy as his cock started to throb inside of youspreading you open even more he was getting close. Running yourfingers through his thick black hair you pulled on the locks makinghim look up at you in the process.

“Iorder you to cum inside of me.” You said boldly holding a firm lookwith those intense purple eyes.

“Formy queen.” He replied as he captured your lips in a kiss.

AsNoctis wrapped his arms around your upped body he buried his faceright into your neck placing soft kisses as he started to thrust hardagain so deep inside your pussy. The loud groan in your ear made youholding him close wanting to be closer to him as his cock poundedinto you. Then in a jolt of his body Noctis ejaculated right deepinside your warm and wet pussy, slowly he thrusted a few more timesmaking sure every drop was placed inside of you. Both of you wereshaking from the high of the orgasms pulling himself out he kissedyou softly.

“Ilove you so much.” He said placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Ilove you as well Noctis…we should get back…”

“Probably.. .I think I solved that problem.” He mused as he had a giant smileon his face as he plucked up your clothes bringing them back over toyou.

“Letme help you get dressed.”

“Ishould clean up a little…” You said looking around forsomething to wipe up the cum that was dripping down your legs.

“Don’t.”Noctis ordered as he slipped the underwear back on your slender bodythen helping with the bra and slipping the dress over your shouldersand zipping it up.

Ashe led you out of the room there was a few guards milling around wholooked rather embarrassed by what they had heard but they didn’t sayanything at all. Back on the main floor the party was still going onbut it was obviously awkward as everyone kept looking towards thehallway the both of you had gone through. There was a bark oflaughter let out by Gladiolus and his girlfriend as they spotted theKing and Queen first. The hickies were obvious on the low slung dressthere was no way to cover them and the elegantly put hair was allmessed up and some makeup smeared. There was lipstick on Noctis’ lipsand damp spots on his pant legs from your cum and his shirt andjacket were all skewed. A pair of hands covered Talcott’s face as hestared wide eyed at the pair, blushing as he did see all the mess.

“Stella mayI have this dance?” Noctis asked turning to face you his eyes backto their normal calm and peaceful midnight blues.

“Yes.. .” You said shaking your head softly as the King signaled forthem to start a new song.

[felinevomitus]

The Symbolic Identities of State and Culture: Sz. Berlin Interviewed

Sz. Berlin live at The Grosvenor, London, 2010. All images courtesy of Sz. Berlin.

Sz. Berlin is a multidisciplinary project that primarily draws its influence from various European historical, cultural & ideological sources. Formed in London, in 2007, the anonymous duo have used sound, performance, video and installation work to engage with notions of authority, industry and totalitarianism.

A major source of inspiration for the group is the former Deutsche Demokratische Republik (DDR). With its widespread surveillance of East German citizens, hidden history of electronic music research and strong design aesthetic the DDR provides a wealth of diverse material. However, with Sz. Berlin’s sonic experiments ranging from obscure remixes to conducting deafening sound installations in a Bosnian fallout shelter, it is evident that the group’s interests do not lie with East Germany alone.

By revisiting the pitfalls of a troubled past, Sz. Berlin attempt to articulate our place within a geopolitical landscape that is becoming evermore tricky to navigate. Ilia Rogatchevski caught up with one of the members via email ahead of Sz. Berlin’s IKLECTIK performance on Wednesday 17 May.

Ilia Rogatchevski: What is the significance behind the name ‘Schmerzzentrum Berlin’? Why did you chose it for the project?

It was a kind of ‘found object’ that we adopted following a visit to the city in 2007, shortly after we began to collaborate. In a sense, it’s another example of the tendency of non-German industrial groups to appropriate German names because of their sinister/symbolic associations for non-German speakers. A ‘Schmerzzentrum’ is simply a functional description for a treatment centre but the literal English translation – ‘pain centre’ – inevitably brings other associations when paired with the name of the city. So you could say it’s a kind of symbolic recognition of the ambivalent fascination of Berlin’s history. However, in practice we’ve always shortened it to ‘Sz. Berlin’, which in turn suggests a technical acronym. It was a conceptual departure point for us but shouldn’t be taken too literally.

What are you aims when operating within the realms of industrial/noise music? It is to inflict pain (schmerz) or to relieve it?

We try to be neither one-dimensionally provocative nor one-dimensionally affirmative, although we’re fully aware of the potential for what we do to be perceived in this way. We may inflict, relieve, or perhaps, do both simultaneously, but neither of these are explicit objectives.

During our residency in Tito’s former nuclear command bunker during the first Konjic Biennale in 2011 we created a simulated 25 kiloton nuclear explosion from the sounds of the bunker itself. Before the opening, a curious local woman asked us to demonstrate what we were doing. We played 25kt at full volume over the sound system (the effect in the blast tunnel was immense and there would often be flakes of plaster on the floor after each playback). The noise reduced her to tears as it brought back memories of her childhood when the town of Konjic was besieged during the Bosnian war. She might have been expected to be angry but was actually grateful. Being confronted with our work had been extremely cathartic for her. This wasn’t a reaction we anticipated or aimed for but it was fascinating.

On the day of the opening we played 25kt to a VIP delegation touring the bunker, including the Bosnian President and NATO officers. While they weren’t reduced to tears, from what we could observe from our vantage point, they certainly encountered something unexpected. They were no more our targets than any other audience members (every group visiting the event heard 25kt as they entered the bunker) but they surely realised that exposing yourself to art is not necessarily a pain-free experience.

Of course, if we go beyond the art world and discuss seasoned industrial audiences (of which we’re often members), the physical pain that the uninitiated might feel may be replaced by the pleasure of being confronted by the types of sounds we deploy. On the other hand, in terms of the visual and historical material we’re using, we’re certainly not ‘crowd pleasing’, even in the industrial context. Some of the visual and historical content we use has never been used in industrial previously and in some ways violates some of its norms. We do demand that our audiences pay attention to the totality of what we’re doing and if it turns out to be painful, that’s a perhaps necessary stage in a journey, rather than an objective in itself. We make no attempt to perform an openly sadistic imposition of pain and we’re not motivated by the sort of machismo that marks some noise projects.

What is it about the DDR that attracts you to mine its aesthetics?

During the 1990s and 2000s, there was a growing tendency (especially within what is known as ‘martial industrial’) not just to use but sometimes to actively affirm Axis imagery from World War 2. Leaving aside, political or moral considerations, as the use of this material intensified, the artistic quality suffered. This also increased the external perception that industrial was naturally or inherently right wing and should be treated with extreme suspicion or hostility. The provocation was only in one direction and in practice it could be more conservative than provocative. We were both aware of this tendency and the idea to try and incorporate contradictory imagery had first occurred to one of us around 2001.

When we began to experiment with sound we were looking for a theme and this old idea fused with one member’s detailed knowledge of the history of the DDR (this included pre-1989 visits). The spent cultural fuel of the DDR was being used mostly for fairly populist ‘Ostalgie’ (nostalgia for the East), which had obvious conceptual limitations. We were both teenagers during the ‘New Cold War’ period of the early 1980s when NATO seemed to have actively flirted with the idea of a nuclear first strike against the Warsaw Pact and we were inevitably marked by this. So we decided to combine the history of the DDR with an ‘industrial’ approach to sound and history.

The visual and symbolic identity of state and cultural activities in the DDR were often surprisingly radical and innovative. The use of fonts, the mode of propaganda and numerous other details of course now have the ‘romantic’ sheen of a state that no longer exists. Our engagement with it is in a sense counter-factual, dealing with the most dramatic positive and negative possibilities of what might have been.

Yet we’re fully aware of the ambivalent nature of the DDR. We’re trying to build on what we see as the modernist technological aesthetic seen in all the state socialist countries but in an especially interesting form in the DDR, which is little known outside its former territory. It could be argued that one of the reasons that the DDR had to resort to such repression was that culturally conservative elements always tried to choke off radical innovation. Architects, designers, composers and others consciously tried to create modernist aesthetics which could have had positive social effects. The DDR had a great cultural potential, which was choked off from both within and without. Of course, if at some point the leadership had decided to be more modernist or pluralistic and move away from authoritarianism it might for a time have led to a cultural flowering but we have no illusions. No matter how progressive the DDR had become, it would always have been bound for ‘Gleichschaltung’ into the Western market model, regardless of its citizens’ aspirations.

We also feel that the DDR, and its demonic place in the Western imagination, is a useful prism through which to observe and criticise concrete political and cultural tendencies in the former Western bloc. The totalitarian aspects of the DDR are very convenient projection points which Western politicians love to use to distract from their own shadowy activities. We often speak of the crimes of the Stasi and the casualties of the East German state but how often do we speak (or how prominently are we allowed to speak about?) subjects such as NATO’s Gladio operations and their links to right wing terrorism which killed hundreds? And how few people care to acknowledge, or even to care about, the fact that GCHQ and the NSA have surveillance and blackmail capacities far more dangerous than anything the Stasi had?

It’s a beloved cultural archetype of evil for the West, but we believe it’s also a productive cultural prism through which to view the West. Much of what was said or forecast about the West in DDR official statements has actually been vindicated following the collapse of the state (the dangers of a speculation based economy, a resurgence of Fascism etc.) So for these and many other reasons it remains a ‘live’ theme that can be made culturally and conceptually productive again. It can act as a ‘memento mori’ for all ‘actually existing’ states.

Furchtbare Schönheit Enstand, Film Still, 2016

Which other sources, German or otherwise, do you draw from for your work? What is it about them that interests you?

That depends on the nature of the current ‘mission’. Besides the DDR and Warsaw Pact, which were our initial primary sources, we’ve also worked intensively with Yugoslav and Irish history. We’ve also researched certain aspects of recent British history that we may work on in the future.  We feel our techniques could be relevant to many historical and cultural contexts and don’t rule out any sources.

Do you see Sz.Berlin as a radical project?

That’s not a label we’ve ever consciously used. It’s probably more correct to say ‘distinctive’, rather than ‘radical’. Of course, some of the historical material we’re using, plus the severity of our aesthetic techniques could seem radical or extreme to some but it’s not a label we either aspire to or strongly reject. It’s more important to us to contribute different perspectives.

Your releases have been sporadic and few, often limited to small-run CDRs. Is there a reason for this restrained activity?

Since the creation of the group we have been geographically dispersed and have needed to prioritise not suffering the romantic fate of precarious artists, plus having other creative projects to attend to. We haven’t let this be an obstacle to opportunities that have come up. Sz. Berlin’s participation in the 2016 2ndNSK Folk Art Biennale, as well as The Horse Hospital last October, was carried out by only one member, as was the recent track Stillstand 2016. This was partly for logistical reasons, but also as he had stronger connection with the subject matter (Irish history and the 1916 rising).

While still both extremely busy, we now have more stable schedules and are able to work more regularly again. One thing that has changed in the last year is a shift to using physical synthesisers, whereas previously we had worked almost exclusively with computers. This new way of working produces stronger results in a shorter time. All of which is to say, that between day-to-day obligations, conflicting schedules and prioritising live and art projects, we’ve not had time yet to prepare larger releases. This is changing though.

Sz.Berlin at the Radioactive Half-Life installation, Konjic, 2011

What is the driving force behind your installation and sound art work (25kt, Radioactive Half Life, Communique)? How are these pieces connected to the notions of totalitarianism, geopolitics and apocalypse?

These three works were all direct responses to the bunker environment at Konjic. One member visited the site 6 months before the event and gathered numerous sound recordings of the space. The concepts were developed following the visit. All the works were inspired by and designed specifically for the space. 25kt was constructed entirely from the sounds the bunker, constantly re-recorded and re-worked during the period leading up to the opening.

If this piece was a simulation of a nuclear detonation, Communique was a simulated order for a nuclear strike and Radioactive Half Life was an imaginary soundscape based on its aftermath. In this triptych we weren’t dealing explicitly with totalitarianism, which is a label that’s often misapplied to Yugoslavia.

For us, geopolitics and apocalypse were obviously inescapable themes within that space, even if some other artists presented far more personal or even homely works. However, we weren’t trying to practice an artistic ‘apocalypse for apocalypse’s sake’. The point was rather to interrogate the wave of Cold War nostalgia that also benefits a space like Konjic. We tried to re-alienate this mode of nostalgia, to remove the cosiness and commerce and to re-acquaint people with the apocalypse that lurks behind the Cold War. It’s interesting to observe how in the 6 years since the event Cold War nostalgia has become ever more popular while we are now closer to a ‘Hot War’ than we have been since the early 1980s.

Can you recall any interesting or elaborate performances to date, within which you have participated, that left a lasting impression on you?

On the Friday night of our residency at Konjic we performed live in the tunnel. The sound was colossal. The microphone recordings were hopelessly overloaded. The sound spread out of the tunnel and into the valley beyond. After about 40 minutes we reluctantly stopped at the request of the resident military personnel. We only have few photos of this action, which as far as we know has been the only live sound performance within this space.

At the other end of the geographical, conceptual and chronological spectrum, the performance at Ballyvaughan Castle in Ireland last year was very memorable. It took place in a circular room on the first floor of this historic structure and assistance was provided by a veteran sound engineer who’d worked with Swans and others in the past. The sound was sufficiently intense that it was felt through the ground at the base of the tower and there were worries about the structural integrity of the floors. This 30 minute piece, Stahlschwert16, a historical soundscape using Irish sound sources (some gathered in the days before the performance) is the longest single Sz. Berlin work to date and to execute it successfully, in full, in such a historically and physically resonant location was a powerful experience.

Sz.Berlin live video projection in entrance tunnel, Konjic, 2011

What is on the horizon for Sz.Berlin?

The show at IKLECTIK is the first presentation of new material that we’ve prepared for our appearance at the Primal Uproar II festival in Hamburg in June. This major techno/noise/industrial/experimental festival will take place aboard the Ms. Stubnitz, the renowned ex-DDR fishing ship. This will be our first German appearance and we’ve prepared works that related to the history of such ships and the men who worked on them, as well as to the wider nautical traditions of the DDR.

To return to your earlier question, what we plan to do following that is to focus on releases. We plan to release the video and performance soundtracks from the Biennale and the Stubnitz material (under the title Kurs liegt an!). Two remixes from the DDR60 compilation we put together will be issued, including a remix of our track by Autopsia. In the longer term, we also want to release a compilation of our archive: several years’ worth of unreleased material, some dating back to 2007. The challenge here is that we’re now working on different machines with software. So these will be enhanced reconstructions that will document the first phase of our work. After that, we hope to intervene further in the art sector and, amongst other themes, we would like to address the issue of surveillance in the Anglo-American bloc.

Sz. Berlin will be performing live at IKLECTIK on Wed 17 May along with Jose Macabra and Am Not. For more information about the Sz. Berlin project please visit their website. Ilia Rogatchevski Originally published by IKLECTIK, 30 April 2017

[brosura]

memento mori (the curious case of the baker on baker st.) pt. 2/4

Word Count: 4737 Rating: T probably Pairings: Prompto Argentum x Ignis Scientia Warnings: minor character death, major character death (VERY temporary), alcohol consumption

“Ignis Scientia, young baker and private investigator’s assistant, has a peculiar gift. With a touch, he can bring the dead back to life.”

AKA the promnis pushing da*sies au no one asked for

quick thanks to @danielkesslers for the last minute quick read to make sure, once again, that i am not being my needlessly confusing little self

[start with part I here] [read part III here] [read part IV here] [fic on ao3]

The facts were these.

Sixty seconds, exactly, after Ignis presses his fingers against Prompto’s forehead, a certain unnamed Funeral Director with a pair of sticky fingers dies of a heart attack in the middle of sorting his haul at sixty-two years, eight months and five days.

Of course, Ignis couldn’t have known that he’d traded sticky fingers for Prompto, in the grand scheme of things, so the first thing that jumps into his head once he’s finished carefully helping Prompto back into the coffin and shutting the lid, the first terrifying thought he has is “Gladio!”

Gladio just blinks in mild confusion at Ignis, who - from his perspective - has just thrown open the door for no apparent reason. He blinks again as Ignis sighs, relieved that - from his perspective - he hadn’t accidentally made Iris an only child. Well, less than accidentally. “You ok, Ignis?”

“Y-yes, yes of course,” Ignis says, straightening himself out the best he can in preparation for this unexpected lie. “He, ah, he didn’t see who killed him. But he was strangled with a plastic bag, I don’t know if that helps.”

“Damn,” Gladio hisses. He’s not as visibly upset as he usually is when one of their dead turns out to be a dead end, so to speak, but Ignis can guess that’s for his sake. “I was really hoping for a lead on this one. Well, thanks again, Ignis. You want me to drive you back to the bakery?”

“Thank you, but I’d, ah,” Ignis swallows. He was never good at lying, but luckily he’d been overwhelmed enough before that Gladio will probably attribute this to emotion. “I’d like to attend his funeral, I think.”

Gladio gives him a look that he recognizes as pity for a brief moment, then he just nods. “‘Course. You do what you need to do. Want me to keep you updated?”

“That would be nice,” he says before he can realize that that is most definitely a mistake, that he has just created a situation where he would have to continue lying about the fact that Prompto is very much alive.

“Alright, then.” Gladio pats him on the shoulder. Had Prompto actually been dead, he supposes he would have found this comforting. “See you later.”

“Very well.” Ignis manages to say with a stiff nod as Gladio steps around him to leave the funeral home.

He waits awkwardly by the window until Gladio leaves, then rushes back inside the room where he’d left Prompto only to find the coffin gone.

It’s a mess of an affair, tailing the hearse behind a strangely sparse funeral procession, then waiting awkwardly amongst the mourners (a few genuine, namely an old man and a tall girl with short blonde curls who looked too forlorn to be lying, and a few who were clearly journalists) until the crowd had dispersed enough that he felt comfortable enacting the second part of his poorly developed plan.

Which, to put it casually, involved property damage.

It isn’t until he’s squirreled Prompto safely away from the coffin in the grave and the quickly-concocted distraction that was the burning car of the groundskeepers that his heart starts to calm itself.

It doesn’t have long, though, because he scarcely has time to mention that they should ditch Prompto’s suit from the wake before he’s pulling the thing off.

“Ah,” Ignis stutters. “Er-”

“Oh man!” Prompto interrupts, craning his neck to get a good look at the suit jacket he’s pulling off a shoulder. “Is this my suit from high school prom? I was almost buried in this? How embarrassing!”

“Well, I think you look lovely,” Ignis says offhandedly before he can think about it. It’s enough to make the both of them freeze, and Ignis finds it suddenly much more difficult to meet his eyes.

“Right, um, well,” Prompto starts. He clears his throat. “Don’t suppose you brought a change of pants?”

“Unfortunately, no. To be fair, I didn’t exactly plan to exhume a corpse today.”

“Well, I guess we can’t plan for everything,” Prompto says, and continues the task of undressing himself. He’s on the third button of his dress shirt when he pauses, blinking at Ignis. “No offense, dude, but you watching me is kind of weird.”

“A-ah, right of course, I’ll-” Ignis swivels himself around in lieu of an end to that statement. He clears his throat to drown out the soft sounds of Prompto working at his clothes. “So, ah, high school prom. Who was your lucky partner?”

“Er, no one. Well, someone. But it turned out to be a prank.” Ignis frowns, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on that troubling information before Prompto asks, “I know you probably don’t know what they look like, but were my parents at the funeral?”

“I’m not sure,” Ignis admits with regret. He honestly hadn’t been focusing so much on the guests, he was rather more concerned with the fact that Prompto may very well have been buried alive if he hadn’t been quick on his feet (and good at starting fires).

“Guess it’s too much to hope for,” Prompto sighs and there’s the shuffling of clothes.

Then Prompto appears from his periphery, clothed only in the black slacks and a thin, white shirt. He looks smaller without the trappings of a suit, more human with the way his hair is mussed from undressing. He also looks cold, arms crossed over his chest in clear discomfort.

“Ah, it’s rather chilly,” Ignis comments casually as he shrugs off his own simple gray cardigan, tossing it to Prompto, who catches it with a surprised look on his face. “You can borrow that. At least, until we can find you more suitable clothes.”

“O-oh, ok,” Prompto stutters, but he’s carefully pulling on the cardigan anyway. It’s too big for him, barely fits at the shoulders and the sleeves go past his wrists, but he looks more comfortable. Definitely warmer, if the flush on his neck is any indication. “This is fine.”

“So,” Ignis starts, eager to change the subject. “Consider yourself a free man. Now, what do you want to do?”

Prompto’s grin is so bright it rivals the sun.

“Y’know,” Prompto says around a mouthful of a cheeseburger. 

He’s in the passenger seat of Ignis’ car, which they had picked up along with a change of clothes on the way to the Cheesy Shack. 

It’s a combination of ridiculous and endearing, the sight of him curled up around a bag of junk food in a pair of too-big sweatpants and a loose tank top, still wearing that loose-fitting cardigan. Dark sunglasses obscure his eyes. He was a dead man, after all. Can’t give the poor teen working the drive-through window a scare. 

“Being dead really makes you stop and appreciate the value of junk food. Like, when I was alive? It was always ‘don’t eat the cheeseburger, Prompto’ or ‘that’s too much food, Prompto.’ But then I didn’t even make it to twenty-two! Some dude strangled me to death on a cruise ship!” He winces. “Too soon?”

“You’re the one who died,” Ignis offers, sipping at his own ‘Mocha Jivin’” milkshake which he held one gloved hand, the other draped over the steering wheel as they make their way slowly to Noctis’ building. The gloves, naturally, being a precaution. He’s never losing someone to carelessness ever again. And Prompto seemed…averse to wearing sleeves. “I’d say you get the final word on whether or not it’s too soon to discuss the circumstances of your death.”

“Well, I say it’s not too soon,” Prompto says. “Weird to be on eggshells about it, especially since you’re the one who brought me back. Like you literally saw my dead body, gave me a little poke and boop! Here I am. How do you do that, by the way?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know,” he admits. It’s not a lie. For all he knows about his powers, there’s a garbage bin full of dead plants and things he doesn’t. “It’s, ah, not a thing I care to dwell on.”

“Oh,” Prompto tilts his head. “Too soon?”

Ignis snorts as he pulls into the driveway of Noct’s apartment building, sending a quick text for him to open the garage. “Something like that.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to walk on eggshells, then.” Prompto gives him a grin. “Anyway, not like me to look a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever.” He switches to a southern drawl midway and seems to surprise himself. “Er, sorry, old habit.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Ignis says with a raised eyebrow and Prompto just shrugs in response. “It’d be good of you to look the gift horse in the mouth just enough to avoid touching me, though.”

“Oh, right! Bummer,” Prompto blurts, then flushes in his seat. “A-any other rules I gotta worry about?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, just what’s common sense for being raised from the dead.”

“Right! No appearing on the porches of my loved ones, no introducing myself by name. Got it!”

“There you are. You’re a natural,” Ignis says with a fond smile.

Prompto gives him a small one in return and it’s a short, quiet moment. But it’s the first one they have where they’re not frantically catching up on lost time or feeling like they’re living in a world made of frozen glass that’s liable to shatter at any moment.

It’s the first moment they have to just be in each other’s presence.

“I really missed you,” Ignis admits, because it feels right and because he thought he might never get the chance, the privilege to say it.

“Me, too,” Prompto says, and they settle into a short but comfortable silence.

If Ignis was an ordinary and average young man, this might have been the sort of scene that ended in a kiss, tentative and shy. But instead, they can only look at each other, read the warmth and longing in their matching small smiles, and imagine.

Then they jump at the sound of knuckles rapping gently against the passenger side window.

“Garage is open,” Noctis drawls, groggy, when Ignis rolls the window down. Ignis knows Noctis well enough that he’s not surprised he’s in pajamas. In fact, he’d anticipated it, and made a quick call ahead to make sure Noctis was awake from his afternoon nap. He also knows Noctis well enough that he can see the recognition in his eyes the moment after his grogginess subsides and he notices Prompto in the passenger’s seat. “Oh shit, you’re-”

“I-I-I’m,” Prompto stutters, eyes wide with panic. “I mean, er, my name is. Pronto? Aurum?”

“Prompto.” Ignis can’t help but laugh. “It’s alright, he knows about me. He’s a friend.”

“Oh, thank god,” he wheezes. “I know we just established the ground rules but I wasn’t like, ready.”

“Well, you did great,” Noctis reassures, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m Noctis.”

“I’m Prompto!” he says with a cheerful grin. “Y’know, like the dead guy.”

“Pretty common name, huh,” Noctis says with a lazy smirk of his own. Then he blinks at the bags in Prompto’s lap. “One of those for me?”

“Please, give me some credit,” Ignis answers for Prompto. It seemed the people he cared about the most all had a similar taste in junk food. “Two of them are for you. Mind if we come in?”

“Yeah,” Noctis says with a yawn. “Yeah, I’ll meet you at the elevator.”

The facts were these.

Noctis Lucis Caelum, twenty-one years old, is indisputably Ignis’ closest friend.

He’s proudly guarded this position for nearly ten years, and for ten years, he has been one of the most grounding presences in Ignis’ life. In fact, Ignis had only managed to start accepting his powers as part of himself due to Noct’s intervention.

He’d been content to isolate himself completely until Noctis - lonely and eager to befriend someone who was so hesitant to befriend anyone at all, since so many of their peers wanted his attention for the opportunities his charmed life brought - had wormed his way into Ignis’ very small circle of trust and convinced him that maybe his curse didn’t have to be such a curse. That he could take some of the power back with understanding until it became a mundane and inconvenient thing on most days and a source of fear and anxiety on only some days. Noctis had made for a very good lab assistant and then, over time, a very good friend.

They’d been an odd pair, to be sure - the shy heir and the bookish nobody - but they’d been just that: a pair, a set of friends with a relationship built on mutual and often unconditional trust and support.

But he couldn’t ask Noctis for his unconditional support this time. Noctis knew how his powers worked, after all. Knew what keeping a human alive past the sixty seconds meant.

So he starts to get nervous in the elevator as Noctis, who seems to have woken up a bit more in the time it had taken for Ignis to park the car, gets a knowing look on his face as he gives Prompto a cursory once-over.

He doesn’t say anything other than standard small talk until they’re in the apartment, though.

Then he opens with, “Hey Prompto, you shower yet?” 

Diplomatic, subtle, speaking on the level of the audience. He’d learned well from boarding school.

“Uh, no?” Prompto tilts his head, then sniffs himself. “Oh man, no I have not. They sure went heavy on the cologne.”

“You can use mine,” he offers, opening the door to his bedroom preemptively. Diplomatic, subtle, hinting at no ulterior motives. He’d learned very well from boarding school. “Right knob is water level, left knob is temperature. Towels are on top of the sink. Also, you can borrow a change of clothes from my closet. We’re closer in size, I think.”

“Are you sure?” Prompto hesitates at the doorway, but he seems eager at the prospect now that he’s smelled himself.

“Totally,” Noctis shrugs. “Just don’t touch the suits. I go to work in those.”

“Trust me, you could not make me get back in a suit after today,” Prompto starts, but it gets harder and harder to hear him as he retreats into Noct’s room.

The next few moments are spent treading on eggshells. Noctis gives him a tired smile as he pours them both coffee in complete silence and it’s not until they can hear the shower running that he finally speaks.

“So,” he starts, taking a seat across from Ignis, who’s slouched at the kitchen table. He slides him a mug of coffee that Ignis gratefully accepts. “Do you know who it is?”

“I haven’t the faintest,” Ignis says with a shuddering sigh, feeling the weight of the death he’d caused finally setting in. Noct’s expression remains neutral, but Ignis can tell he’s carefully reading Ignis’ expression. He’d feel judged, but he deserves this. At the very least, he’s relieved to finally tell someone. “It isn’t Gladio, at least. And I haven’t had much time to dwell on it, either. It was, ah, I wasn’t at my finest. It’s been a long day.”

Noctis studies him for a moment, then his brows furrow in a combination of concern and pity. 

“Oh yeah,” he says, voice gentle. “He’s that Prompto, right?”

“The Lonely Tourist, yes.”

“No, I mean, he’s that Prompto,” Noctis gives him a meaningful look. “The one you used to talk about in boarding school.”

“A-ah, yes.”

If it were up to Ignis, he’d happily trade his dead-raising for the ability to go back in time. He’d have less metaphorical blood on his hands, to be sure. Mainly, though, he wouldn’t have to deal with the look Noctis is giving him right now, in this moment, if he could just tell his child self to stop talking about Prompto with such frequency and fervor to his new and very nosy friend.

“Hmm,” Noctis hums, with a sly look on his face. “I can see you’re still invested.”

Ignis crosses his arms. This isn’t good, he’s already on the defensive. His debate professor would be very disappointed. “And what are you suggesting?”

“Nothing. Just, think I get it now,” Noctis says, but his smirk widens. “He’s cute. Energetic. Good for a downer like you.”

“That’s awfully rude.” He snorts. “And to think, I spent your twenty-first birthday gallivanting about town, witnessing things that should not be repeated, only to be called a downer.”

“Hey, don’t make me pull a gag order on you,” Noctis says without any vitriol. Then he switches abruptly back to that gentle tone when he continues with, “So, Prompto. He’s up now, and for the long run I’m guessing. What do you need me to do?”

“For now, could he stay here?” Ignis says, fiddling with the mug in his hands. He feels guilty involving Noctis in this, but he doesn’t see there being any other option. “Gladio might come by my flat later and he knows what Prompto looks like. And I, ah, I need to focus.”

“Got it,” Noctis says with an adamant little nod that lets Ignis know he can trust him with this. “Want me to bring him by the bakery later?”

“It’s up to you.”

“Hm, I guess that depends on if I get a free tart.”

“Two free tarts,” Ignis says with a smirk. “For your troubles.”

Noctis gives him another of those sly smiles. “I’ll wait for the all-clear, then. And I’m gonna eat this cheeseburger.”

And they’re off the eggshells the moment Noctis starts stuffing his face with the thing.

Ignis has seen death, has seen the many forms it takes but he’ll never quite overcome the horror that was watching Noctis eat a cheeseburger.

At any rate, their conversation treads back onto their more frequented avenues by the time Prompto steps out in a pair of black sweatpants and a yellow shirt with a moogle riding a chocobo printed to the front. It’s quite the look to find charming, but that’s all Ignis can think, all he can focus on as Prompto dries at his ears with the towel draped around his shoulders, making some comment about how nice hot water was.

“Yeah, hot water’s great!” Noctis says, loudly in an effort to snap Ignis out of the daydream he’d been spiraling into. What did he do to deserve a friend like Noctis.

“Y-yes,” Ignis says, clearing his throat. “Right, er, Prompto. You’ll be staying with Noctis for the time being. I have to get back to work, but will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I can manage,” Prompto says with a grin, but it seems tight and tense.

He’s worried, for a moment, that Prompto will be uncomfortable with Noctis. But then Prompto takes one long look at Noct’s entertainment center and heaves a delighted sob.

“Holy shit, you have every console imaginable!” he cries, hovering near the display, his body trembling in tangible excitement. “Is that the Swap? I’ve been saving up for that for ages!”

“That’s the Swap,” Noctis practically purrs, he’s clearly very proud of his set-up. “One of the perks of knowing a guy who knows a guy.” Prompto gives him a look that’s such open want and excitement that Ignis can see the moment it rubs off onto Noctis, who looks very much like the boy he’d met in boarding school when he continues with, “Want to play?”

“Yeah! Hell yeah!”

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Ignis tries to say, but it’s in vain, because both Prompto and Noctis are already ignoring him in favor of babbling over the contraption.

Noctis doesn’t even walk him to the door, simply gives him a half-wave.

Now, what did he do to deserve a friend like Noctis.

All things considered, he’s had a very productive day.

Despite having the bakery closed for the majority of its open hours, he’s managed to sell the more delicate pastries off and has Noct’s tarts set aside and his next batch primed for the ovens tomorrow by the time Gladio comes through the door around closing, wordlessly flipping the sign in the window to closed.

He’s got a bottle of liquor in his hand and Ignis doesn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. Gladio, from what Ignis has experienced, is quite the drinker.

“Hey, Iggy,” Gladio greets, gentler than usual. “How’s it going?”

“Better,” he admits, because at least he doesn’t have to lie about that. He’s still anxious about who died in Prompto’s place, and he’s still nervous about what the future holds for them both, but he’s better. He’s never been better.

“That’s good, wanna have a couple of drinks?”

Ignis merely nods.

His acting is, to put it delicately, shit. One unfortunate school play that Noctis has on VHS recording for collateral is testament enough to that. But he has a somber expression most days, so at least silence can play to his benefit.

Gladio steps comfortably into the kitchen, pulling out a set of cups as Ignis washes his hands and subtly texts Noctis that he should stay away from the bakery. Gladio pours a clear brown liquid into a set of glasses in what he probably imagines is a somber silence for the dead, and not the moment of fear and anxiety that it actually is for Ignis. They take their first drinks in the same silence, and Ignis feels himself relaxing ever so slightly as the liquor burns its way to his gut.

He’s not usually one to drink, but he finds himself glad he’s doing so when Gladio offhandedly says, “Heard that that mean old funeral director croaked this afternoon. Weird coincidence, huh?”

But Ignis doesn’t hear anything after “that mean old funeral director croaked this afternoon” because he’s coughing up his liquor. For a brief, terrifying moment as he hacks up half a lung and about a shot of whiskey, he thinks that Gladio’s guessed his game. That bringing up the funeral director was an accusation and not small talk.

He’s relieved to find that Gladio seems to only think that he’s coughing because of the liquor, though, and that he doesn’t seem to have that calculating look on as he pats Ignis’ back. “Sorry. Still a sore subject?”

“Not, ah,” he chokes on the sting of the whiskey as it makes its way back up his throat. “Not particularly.”

“That’s good,” Gladio says. Then he switches into that tone that he uses on a victim Ignis has just raised, and Ignis feels his anxiety raise in turn when Gladio continues with, “‘Cause I was hoping to hear more about him, that Prompto guy.”

“I’m afraid-,” Ignis swallows. Yes, he is afraid. “I’m afraid I don’t know how much I can say. It’s been years since I’d seen him last, and we were only children then.”

“You sure?” Gladio prods. “Even a little detail works. ‘Cause I could really use anything at this point.”

Ignis could tell him all the things he’s learned about Prompto in their short time together, all the things that came rushing out when they’d walked to Ignis’ apartment.

He could tell Gladio that Prompto’s persevered through what Ignis can only perceive as a lonely childhood, that he’s bright and cheerful and yet talks about himself as if he deserves the scant few friends and lack of parental attention he regularly alludes to, that he loves taking photos and he’s eager to travel again, in spite of being killed for it the once. That he looks very charming in a pair of sweats and a ridiculous t-shirt.

But none of this would be helpful, and all of this would be incriminating, so he says, “I really can’t say.”

Gladio sighs in disappointment, and it’s heavy and genuine enough that even while Ignis is skirting the edge of drunkenness, he can tell that Gladio’s only hope tonight was to squeeze some detail about Prompto’s life and death out of him. He lets himself relax and take another drink of the whiskey.

“Man, with how beat up you were about him, figured you might have been close or something,” Gladio mumbles. “I mean, you were real beat up. And you recognized him on sight...”

It’s just a series of observations, a habit Ignis is accustomed to. Gladio is a private detective, but he’s no spy, so Ignis has sat quietly as Gladio mumbled his way through a case on more than one occasion. If he cared more, he could jot down notes and steal Gladio’s cases right from under him. But he’s a baker by practice, a consultant by necessity. And he couldn’t hurt Iris’ feeling’s like that.

What he’s not anticipating is for Gladio’s mumbling to trail off until there’s a smirk on his lips and Ignis finds himself nervous in a new set of ways. “So, what was he? First crush?”

“I-I’m not sure what you’re-” Ignis sputters, but he’s not doing a fine job of denying it. And gods, he wishes he wasn’t such an easy read, because Gladio’s smirk is growing more insufferable by the second.

“Knew it,” he teases, and tips back another sip of the whiskey. “Trying to picture you as a kid with a crush, but it’s hard. You’re so stuffy sometimes.”

“We were all young once,” Ignis says, simply. “Though you’d be right to assume I was rather… stuffy as a child as well. Prompto managed to see through that, though. He is, er, he was a very kind and bright boy.”

“Sounds like a good guy.” Gladio takes another sip of the whiskey, but he’s back to that somber tone when he sets it down. “Kind of strange, though, you know? When you’re a kid, there are all these people that mean so much to you at one moment that completely leave your life in the next, and you have no idea why. You can only hope you’ll remember them in a few years, and that they’re remembering you, too.”

“Isn’t that just what it’s like to have people you care about?” Ignis says quietly as he fills up their cups.

“Huh,” Gladio grunts. “Guess that’s just what it’s like.”

They both have someone of their own in mind as they take a long drink from their glasses.

The facts are these.

Ignis Scientia - twenty-two years, six months, three weeks and four days old, full-time baker, part-time private investigator’s assistant and responsible party to a revival/murder - is much, much drunker than he intended to be.

He and Gladio, despite the premise of their meeting being founded on a complete lie, have been more honest and forthcoming with each other than they’ve ever been, in no small part due to the entire two bottles of alcohol. He’s learned a lot of things about Gladio, like that he’s been taking on so many cases lately because he’s getting more and more anxious about paying for Iris’ college education, that he cooks most of the family dinners, and that he’s very, very good at eating pie with nothing but his bare hands. Or, at least, much better at eating pie with his bare hands than Ignis is.

Either way, they’re both two hands deep in a pie each, a predicament that explains why Ignis doesn’t receive a critical text message that might have prepared him for what happens next.

What happens next being Prompto himself kicking the door open - it was such a small town that Ignis rarely locked it - tailed by a very anxious Noctis.

They’re both clearly in pajamas and it would be ridiculous if it weren’t for the fact that Prompto is shaking, eyes shining with moisture as he rounds on Ignis.

“You knew! That’s what the beeping was!” Prompto says. He might be shouting, he looks upset enough to be shouting and that’s definitely worrying, but at the moment Ignis’ ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton, and all he can focus on is the fact that Prompto’s still wearing his old gray cardigan. “Who was it?!”

“Sorry,” Noctis says, looking guilty. His eyes dart between Prompto and Ignis with a nervous energy. “I thought you told him how your powers worked.”

“Don’t apologize, Noct,” Prompto barks over his shoulder, then returns to poking a finger at Ignis’ chest. “You’re the one who needs to apologize! So, who was it?! Who died for me?!”

Ignis doesn’t get a chance to answer, though, because beside him Gladio is making a confused grumble as he squints at Prompto.

“Yeah, Ignis?” he grates out, hands still coated in the purple filling of a blueberry pie as he brings one to rub at his forehead. “Is that our fucking victim?”

Ignis Scientia - twenty-two years, six months, three weeks and four days old, full-time baker, part-time private investigator’s assistant and known responsible party to a revival/murder - wishes he could drink more.

Ohh, W-wOOPS? - Ignis

next time: four rowdy boys solve a murder

[brosura]

memento mori (the curious case of the baker on baker st.) pt. 4/4

Word Count: 4629 Rating: T probably Pairings: Prompto Argentum x Ignis Scientia Warnings: minor character death, major character death (VERY temporary), alcohol consumption, survivor’s guilt, mentions of child abuse/neglect

“Ignis Scientia, young baker and private investigator’s assistant, has a peculiar gift. With a touch, he can bring the dead back to life.”

AKA the promnis pushing da*sies au no one asked for

in the final chapter, four rowdy boys and a good dog do a stake-out

big thanks to @danielkesslers for the quick read n check!

[start with part I here] [read part II here] [read part III here] [fic on ao3]

“This isn’t our old neighborhood,” Ignis observes, as they all pull up to the Hammerhead garage in Gladio’s little electric car.

The facts are these.

The Hammerhead garage, owned by a certain Cid Sophiar, is housed in the remnants of an old small aircraft hangar. For years, local elitists in the community have insisted that the giant hammerhead shark - a grand old thing Cid had built on top of the garage as soon as he’d come across enough scrap metal - be removed to avoid lowering property values. And for years, Cid Sophiar has told them, in no uncertain terms, to “shove off, ya nasty city rats.”

At any rate, it’s become something of an establishment for car people and mechanics alike, and it’s garnered the reputation as the place in town to go for a tune-up or an upgrade. That’s what had drawn a young Prompto in after he’d taken his father’s car into the shop for him. What had prompted him to take his first and last job as an apprentice to the head mechanic in the shop.

“Y-yeah,” Prompto stutters. Basil is sitting in his lap, a pre-emptive measure since they’ll be keeping each other company while Ignis, Gladio and Noctis talk to Prompto’s old co-workers. “I sort of listed my boss in my emergency contacts? I don’t know, I didn’t really want my parents to know where I was going, and I was worried the company would send them mail, so I put my workplace as my permanent address.”

“Makes sense,” Noctis says. He’s been a remarkably calming presence in all this, and an excellent sport to sit through a murder investigation that he had no reason to be invested in. Ignis owes him as many tarts as he wants.

“Um,” Prompto starts, bouncing a leg nervously as they all move to exit the vehicle. Basil’s tongue flops erratically out of her mouth. “Could you guys like, send a signal or something? If they’re ok?”

“I’ll leave my phone with you,” Noctis says, already removing it from his pocket. “Ignis’ll text you with an update.”

Prompto gives him a grateful nod and a nervous little smile as he takes the phone, then they’re heading out of the car and pushing open the front doors to the garage.

“So,” Noctis draws out the syllable in the buzzing silence of the lobby. “What happens if the murderer is like… there.”

“Let me worry about that,” Gladio says, rolling his shoulders. “Just try not to get in the way.”

“Of what?” Ignis snorts. “Your ego?”

“Nice try, Ignis.” He sends him a cocksure grin. “You don’t see the take-down so I don’t blame you, but I’ve wrestled my fair share of perps. Guy coming from behind? Plastic bag? Not a lot of confidence there. I’m sure I could beat him hand to hand.”

“Oh man,” Noctis deadpans. “Ignis, let’s get out of the way. It’s his ego.”

“Very funny,” Gladio says with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, what’s the joke?” comes a high-pitched and smooth voice in a southern drawl as a young woman steps behind the counter with a friendly smile.

Ignis instantly recognizes her as the young woman from the funeral. Only this time, instead of her Sunday Best, she’s wearing a set of coveralls that are zipped down to the waist, fastened there with a knot tied with her sleeves. And she’s covered in grease, even the t-shirt underneath the coveralls and her baseball cap weren’t spared. Even so, she’s very pretty, so Ignis isn’t surprised when Noctis balks and shrinks subtly behind him. He never was good at meeting new people, much less new attractive people.  

But Gladio has no such qualms. He’s leaning over the counter like he’s an old friend, all charm. “Nothing worth repeating, ma’am.”

“Aw, shucks. Ain’t no need for all that fancy business. You can call me Cindy, darlin’.” She gives them a wink. Ignis can feel Noct’s panic rising behind him. “What can I do for you boys today? Something with your car need fixin’?”

“No car trouble today, Cindy.” Gladio says with an amicable smile. “My name’s Gladio, and I’m actually a private investigator. These two are my, ah, assistants. We’re currently looking into the death of a Prompto Argentum.” The name scarcely leaves Gladio’s mouth before Cindy’s entire face falls. “Take it you knew him?”

“Yeah,” Cindy says, taking off her cap to run a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I knew him.”

“Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” Gladio asks, gentle. He waits for Cindy to nod before continuing. “He listed this garage as his last workplace, and we were hoping to speak to his boss. That you?”

“Not exactly.” Cindy bites her lip, looking thoughtful. It occurs to Ignis that Prompto might have picked up the habit from her. “Look boys, why don’t you come to the back with me? I reckon whatever I can’t answer, Paw Paw’ll be able to. He runs the place.”

She gestures for them to follow her behind a closed door, then winces as if remembering something. “Just- Just let me do the talking first, alright?”

“Is he mean?” Noctis whispers, looking nervous. “Ask Prompto if he’s mean.”

Cindy ok. Ignis texts, dutifully. Is boss mean?

Very mean. Prompto responds. Then there’s a picture of Basil. For support.

“Yeah, I knew Prompto.” Cid says with that southern drawl, sipping lazily at a cup of coffee that they’d all seen him pour whiskey into. If he wasn’t sure before, Ignis knows now that it’s Cid and Cindy that gave Prompto the habit of switching to the accent. “One of my older staff, quick with his hands. For a smart kid, he sure was a real idiot.”

“Paw Paw,” Cindy hisses. She gives them an apologetic look. “Paw Paw took him on as an apprentice when he was just a little thing. Couldn’t have been more than seventeen. He didn’t talk about it much, but we knew his parents didn’t pay him much mind, so we tried to make him feel like he was family here.” She sighs. “He was a real sweet thing. Didn’t deserve to go the way he did.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Gladio says with a cold detachment that might have seemed professional if Ignis didn’t know that it was merely a product of the ‘real sweet thing’ in question currently sitting in his car with a very small dog. He leans forward, fingers steepled over his own mug, filled with only coffee. “We’ll try to get out of your hair as soon as possible, but could you answer a few of our questions?”

“Shoot.” Cid gives them a half-hearted wave and takes another long sip from the mug.

“Right, could you tell us if you noticed anything strange about Prompto before the trip? Like, was he behaving strangely or was someone asking questions about him?”

“Can’t say I did,” Cindy answers. “He’d been jittery to be sure, but he seemed more excited than anything. Wanted to know what it was like to travel and all that, but Paw Paw and I don’t leave the garage much ourselves.”

“And he didn’t have a stalker or nothin’, if that’s what you’re asking,” Cid grumbles. “Real shy boy, stayed out of the spotlight. Took years for him to warm to me and Cindy. Woulda noticed if someone came round askin’ for him. Hell, half this garage woulda noticed.”

“Alright,” Gladio says after a pause. He’s making a show of jotting down notes, but from Ignis’ perspective, he can tell they’re just chicken scratches. “How about after the trip? Anything strange happen around the garage recently? Anyone acting strangely?”

Cindy purses her lips. “Hm, couldn’t say. Why do you ask?”

“We’re just pursuing the possibility that the murderer might have been personally connected to him.”

“Well, you can quit pursuin’,” Cid says with finality. “I know my people, none of them would do anything as sinister as you’re implying, city slicker.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Gladio smirks. “Last question, and we’ll be on our way. I understand he’d listed you as his place of residence, and the cruise ship might have sent you his personal effects.”

“Yeah,” Cindy sighs. “Yeah, we got ‘em.”

Gladio leans forward, grin almost predatory. “Mind if we take a look?”

“Well,” Noctis chuckles. “Those are definitely tonberries.”

“That they are,” Ignis says, turning the tacky plastic tonberry around in his hand. They’re heavy, but he’s not sure if it’s real or the imagined weight of knowing Prompto lost his life for these little things.

“So, what do we do now?” Noctis asks, fiddling with his own tonberry.

“We leave them,” Gladio says.

“Excuse me?” Ignis finds he can’t sound affronted enough. “Are you suggesting we continue to put Prompto’s friends, his family by the sounds of it, at risk?”

“They’re at risk whether or not we take the things,” Gladio growls, crossing his arms. “The guy probably went through Dino’s papers and came to the same conclusion as us. The fact that Cid and Cindy haven’t noticed anything says he just hasn’t acted yet. We take them and he gets here and can’t find them? Doesn’t look good for Cid and Cindy.”

Cid and Cindy who, they’d since learned, lived in a small attachment off the side of the garage. Loathe as he is to admit it, Gladio does have a point.

“So what?” Noctis asks for the both of them. “We just let him take them?”

“We leave them,” Gladio explains, poking a tonberry at them in a way that might have looked dramatic and inspired if it weren’t for the fact that it was a tonberry. “And then we wait.”

The facts are these.

Ignis Scientia - twenty-two years, six months, three weeks and five days old, veteran baker, practiced private investigator’s assistant and novice stake-out participant - wishes he’d charged his cell phone.

There’s only so much tenseness stretched between the silences he can take, after all. And with Noctis and Gladio on the other side of the garage - Noctis had split up the groups with a sly look to Ignis - there’s no one else to direct his attention towards.

Well, there’s Basil. But Basil - at a scant 5.5 pounds - is too light to disturb the eggshells they’re currently treading on, and she walks between Ignis and Prompto’s laps in Gladio’s car unaffected.

“So,” Prompto finally says. “Wanna, er, wanna talk about it?”

“About what?”

“The ‘it’s not an unfamiliar feeling’ thing,” Prompto explains. He switches into an exaggeration of Ignis’ accent for part of it, and Ignis finds himself equal parts charmed and offended. “Wanna talk about it?”

It’s not something Ignis was prepared to talk about, he’d been able to put off the memory of his mother and Prompto’s father for this far. But, he can’t lie to Prompto, not anymore. Still, he’s afraid to use the details. “I made a mistake when I was younger, when I first learned about my powers. I lost people who were very dear to me and I knew it was all my fault. I thought I was a monster, that I didn’t deserve anyone’s kindness. If Noctis hadn’t been a nosy little boy so intent on befriending me, I’m not certain where I’d be today, to be honest.”

Prompto lets out a hum, curling up in the seat to hug Basil, who has settled in his lap.

“You’re not,” he says after some time. His fingers curl and uncurl in Basil’s fur, who pants obligingly. “You’re not some monster. You know that, right?”

“Some days more than others,” Ignis admits with a rueful smile.

Prompto frowns. “I mean, I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I know I kind of yelled at you.”

“You were right to. Even it was a lie of omission, I still lied to you and I kept making excuses to lie to you. You deserved to know the complete circumstances of your, er, revival.”

“Yeah, yeah I mean you’re right about that, but I didn’t have to say all that shit about not wanting to talk to you.” Prompto turns to give him a bashful little smile. “To be honest, I was really overwhelmed and I just didn’t want you to see me cry. That would have been really uncool.”

“I understand the desire for privacy, but rest assured I think crying’s a perfectly natural response. Had our positions been reversed, I would have cried at the outset,” Ignis reassures.

“Well, yeah maybe, but you’ve got that perfectly chiseled face and all that,” Prompto says. Ignis waits for him to stutter and blush, but he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps going. “Hell, you probably look great when you cry! All dramatic and noble. Totally unfair, because I just get all red and splotchy. It’s very unattractive.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I want to see you cry anytime soon.” Ignis laughs. “But I think you’re perfectly attractive, no matter the situation.”

Prompto scrunches his nose. “There’s a word for that. Starts with an N.”

“Are you suggesting I’m a necrophile?”

“Yeah, that. And I mean, you are flirting with a dead guy,” Prompto says, but he’s smiling as he says it.

And it’s that warm, longing smile Ignis didn’t think he’d see again, one that pulls at Ignis’ own lips until he’s smiling in return. Suddenly they’re both children again, back in that tree at sunset. Only this time, Prompto is looking at him with the same wonder that must have been written on Ignis’ face that day. Ignis wishes this was some fantasy land, he wishes he could lean in the way he wants, give Prompto a kiss the way he wants.

But once again, Ignis’ wish wasn’t granted. This wasn’t a fantasy land. It was a stake-out.

And they’d just missed their murderer.

The facts were these.

The man that breaks into Hammerhead in the dead of night has made a substantial name for himself by having no one know his name. He’s mysterious, dresses in all black, takes cash only, and was promised a very hefty sum from one Izunia, A. for retrieving a pair of plastic tonberries. Extreme sentimental value, he’d been told. 

This has resulted in more murders than he’d initially planned, but he’s not one to complain. The plastic bags that rest in his back pocket are the closest thing he has to a signature, and it’s unfair that he’s so rarely appreciated for his work.

It seems there’s no need for his special methods today, though, because he makes it through the garage undetected. After a moment of searching, he finds the tonberries in a suitcase next to the familiar camera of the boy he’d murdered on the cruise ship. Secretly, he’s glad it seems intact. It would have been a shame to break such a nice camera.

He’s just congratulating himself on a job well done after no end of inconveniences when a flashlight draws his attention.

“Put the tonberries down,” a gruff voice whispers.

He does not put the tonberries down. 

No, he throws the closest article of clothing he can find from the suitcase at the shine of the flashlight and runs. He can hear a muffled curse as the gruff-voiced man makes chase, but neither of them make it very far before he’s colliding with two more people.

“-mpto!” comes an alarmed cry, but he pays it no mind as he catches the smaller one around the throat. For now, at the very least, the body in front of him will shield him if his pursuers have guns and value their friends.

“Don’t move!” he growls, fumbling in his pocket for his knife, but as he fumbles, he finds himself crinkling the plastic bag on accident.

“Oh, fuck no,” his hostage growls. “Not again.”

Then he’s being flipped, dropped ignobly on the ground for someone as professional as him. This won’t do, naturally, so he grabs his hostage-turned-assailant’s hand and kicks at his midsection, flipping him in turn onto the ground and pinning him there by his throat.

In the dim light of the garage, he just makes out the face of the man, only to find it eerily, eerily familiar.

“Didn’t I kill you?” he asks, incredulous.

But that’s all he gets to ask because the lights flicker on to reveal the scene. There’s him, the nameless man on an errand from a mysterious Izunia, A. halfway through strangling what should have been a dead man on the ground. And then there’s three men frozen in place and scattered about the room, each looking on with some kind of horror at the man in the doorway.

And then there’s the man in the doorway.

“Oughtta read the sign, boys,” Cid Sophiar says, cocking his gun. “We’re closed.”

And that is how Cid Sophiar, age sixty-two, shoots Prompto’s would-be second time killer dead in the Hammerhead Garage.

“You sure your friend is ok?” Cid grumbles, pouring more whiskey into his whiskey. “Looked to be in a real bad situation when I walked in.”

They’re all sat in the office that Gladio had questioned Cid and Cindy in, trying to ignore the dead body in the other room, evidence that their stake-out had been... too active. 

Distantly, they can hear Basil barking from the car that Ignis and Prompto had fled from in haste when they’d seen Gladio’s shaky flashlight signal from the opposite side of the garage before they’d walked directly into a short-lived hostage situation.

By some miracle, Prompto had the sense to look away when Cid had turned the lights on, and Noctis had the foresight to grab one of the shirts from Prompto’s suitcase and throw it over his face when their culprit rolled, lifeless, off his body.

“He’s fine, sir,” Ignis says, as Prompto - t-shirt wrapped around his head- frantically gestures with his hands a message that he must hope comes off as ‘Yeah, really fine!’ “He’s, ah, he’s just very shy to be seen by other people. This whole experience was very...trying, as you can imagine.”

“I can imagine just fine,” Cid says with a laugh, seeming more charmed than anything by Prompto’s strange behavior. “That big old boy was lookin’ right at you, wasn’t he? Taught him not to trespass in a mechanic’s garage, though, I sure did.”

“That you did,” Gladio chuckles. 

“You really think that’s the little asshole that killed Prompto?”

“I strongly believe it, sir,” Gladio says. “I’ll be sure to inform the police so you can collect the reward.”

“Reward was shootin’ that bastard dead,” Cid grumbles. “Well, I reckon I’m not gonna complain about some extra gil, either.”

Noctis, as if sensing Prompto’s anxiety, asks, “Your granddaughter ok?”

“Oh, Cindy’s just fine.” Ignis can see Prompto visibly relax next to him. “Out on the town with her girl. Reckon she’ll get a surprise out of watchin’ the cops draggin’ a body out of the ol’ garage, though.” Cid turns to Prompto, but Prompto can’t tense because, again, he can’t see it. “You oughtta head out then, I reckon. Can’t imagine it’s much better gettin’ gawked at by a bunch of boys in blue.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Noctis says, getting up. He pulls Prompto up by the hand and starts to lead him out of the room, pausing only to give Ignis a look of comfort. “We’ll meet you guys at home.”

And they’re gone just like that. The three remaining men in the room sit in companionable silence until the police arrive, broken only when Gladio curses.

“When did that little brat steal my keys?”

The facts are these.

Noct’s apartment is a spacious penthouse loft on the top floor of one of the only high-rises of the small town they live in. It includes such features as a living room with floor-to-ceiling windows and a small balcony with several struggling houseplants that offers a perfect view of the city. As such, it’s the perfect place to get a breath of fresh air after a particularly long talk with the police, and the perfect place for a dramatic conversation.

“So,” Prompto says, sliding down to sit next to where Ignis is leaning against the railing of Noct’s balcony. He slips two bare feet between the bars of the balcony to kick them over the expanse. Basil waddles to his side to shove her face between the bars. “Bummer about the reward, huh?”

“Well, Cid seems to have some ideas on how to spend the money.” Ideas, of course, that he’d been sure to outline to Gladio and Ignis in the thirty minutes it had taken for the police to show up.

“I’m glad,” Prompto smiles. “He’s a grumpy old guy, but he’s nice. He deserves some cash.”

“I’m inclined to agree, but I’m also not above wishing to see some of that reward money.”

“Same,” Prompto laughs. Then he tenses, ever so slightly as he continues. “I was kind of hoping to pay for that funeral director’s, well, funeral.”

“Ah,” is all Ignis can think to say.

There’s a pause where the only things that they can hear are the quiet sounds of the restless town beneath and Basil’s quiet pants.

Then Prompto laughs. “Think they give employee discounts for funerals?”

Ignis gives him a fond smile that Prompto returns, then he’s looking out over the city again, fingers coming to tangle in Basil’s fur.

“Y’know, to be honest, when I found out that guy died for me, I felt really guilty,” he admits in a soft voice. “But it wasn’t because I thought I should trade my life back for his or anything. It was- Well, I just scared myself because I was so relieved. It felt so selfish, but he was like, sixty or something, and I remember thinking ‘at least it wasn’t a kid,’ like somehow that made it better. And I was happy to be alive or whatever, but it was just… so much at once and everything was so fucked up. It’s fucked up, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s ‘fucked up’ to be happy to be alive,” Ignis answers. “I think that’s just how it is.”

“Yeah,” Prompto breathes. “Yeah, maybe. Either way, I was hoping I could get rid of the guilt by paying for this dude’s funeral, but I guess that’s out of the cards.” He looks to Ignis with a hopeful expression. “Was he really that much of a dirtbag?”

“Dirtiest of the bags,” Ignis says. “Absolute scum.”

“Wow, what happened to ‘don’t speak ill of the dead?’” Prompto laughs.

“Well, I’m sure the rules can be suspended for a man who regularly stole from the dead.”

“Oh, wow, he really was a scumbag.” Prompto blinks. “I thought you guys were just trying to comfort me.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Ignis says, casually.

But Prompto turns to him with a knowing look in his eye. “Really?”

“What are you trying to imply?”

“Nothing,” Prompto laughs. “Nothing, I just. I figured it out, you know. What you were talking about in the car. My dad, that was you, right?”

“Er,” Ignis chokes.

“No, it’s alright, it’s alright,” Prompto reassures. “I’m not mad about it, I don’t blame you. I just wanted to tell you that.” Prompto pulls his feet from off the edge and puts Basil in his lap, curling up into a little ball around her. “My dad, well, he was kind of an asshole, when I think about it. Yelled a lot, drank a lot. Never hit me, but I wasn’t really around for him to try. Y’know, the reason why it seemed like I was outside all the time was because I pretty much was. I’d spend as much time out of the house as possible just to avoid him. So, you can quit beating yourself up about that.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “I was a kid and it was scary being alone, but I think my life would have been a lot worse if I stayed in that place.”

“Prompto,” Ignis chuckles something that’s at once solemn and fond, caught between his sadness at the pain in Prompto’s life and the joy at seeing him finally wanting something for himself. “You died.”

“Yeah, but I got to solve my own murder!” he says with a grin, honest and bright. “I mean, how cool is that?”

They both laugh at that, then Prompto’s looking at him with that thoughtful, longing expression. After a moment, he hums and uncurls himself to stand up in front of Ignis.

“Hey Iggy?” he asks, reaching into his back pocket to produce a plastic take-out bag. Have a nice day! it says in cheerful letters. “Mind doing me a favor and putting this bag over your head?”

“Plan on killing me?” Ignis jokes, but he’s taken the bag and is pulling it over his head regardless. “I suppose that’s karmic justice, in a roundabout sort of way.”

He doesn’t quite hear Prompto’s response over the crinkle of the bag, then suddenly the plastic is being stretched over his face and for a moment Ignis thinks, ‘ah, he really is trying to kill me.’ But then warm hands come to cup around his cheeks and there’s a gentle press against his lips and Ignis can’t think anything at all.

It’s a chaste kiss, necessitated by the plastic bag, and only a moment, but it’s more than Ignis could have imagined. Prompto, it seems, was the imaginative one between the two of them. It’s not his first kiss, not even his second, but it’s the first time he’s kissed someone and imagined a future instead of only the worst case scenarios. It’s the first time he didn’t wish anything was different.

But it’s not long, and he’s left standing dumbstruck in the aftermath as Prompto tugs off the bag and fumbles with it in his hands, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“I was kissing this big smiley face, so that was a little weird,” he laughs, a little nervous and a little breathless, as he stretches the bag out in his hands. He slips a hand inside. “And you used tongue! Look at you, Iggy!”

“I, er, I was caught up in the moment.” Ignis stutters out a laugh of his own.

“Careful,” Prompto teases. “Last time you were caught up in the moment, you killed a guy.”

“Hey!” Noctis cuts in abruptly, slapping a hand against the sliding glass door, making the both of them jump. “If you two are done flirting, I’ve got something to show you.”

“How’d you manage to steal those?” Gladio says, incredulous.

Those being the tonberry statues that Noctis had, apparently, lifted while leading Prompto out of the garage.

“We all have our vices,” he says, in lieu of a real answer. They’ll have to have a talk later, but that can wait because Noctis turns to Prompto, who’s turning one of them over in his hand and says, “Wanna do the honors?”

Prompto grins and raises the thing above his head. “This is for getting me murdered!”

The cheap plastic comes away with a crack to reveal the telltale glimmer of pure gold, the trait that’s likely responsible for the unexpected heaviness of the statues and the fact that someone had been willing to kill for them. This means nothing to Basil, who approaches the statue to lick at it.

“’They’ll make you very, very rich,’” Prompto breathes, remembering Dino’s words.

“Very, very quick,” Gladio finishes, testing the weight of one of the statues in his hand.

“Speak for yourselves,” Noctis shrugs. “I’m already rich.”

The facts are these.

Ignis Scientia - twenty two years, eleven months, three weeks and five days old, full-time baker, part-time private investigator’s assistant and host/co-star of a recently developing series of instructional cooking videos titled Baking with Basil - is about to have the best birthday of his life.

The reason for this being the man curled up on Noct’s couch. Prompto Argentum - recently re-raised freelance photographer, roommate (of Noct’s) and boyfriend (of Ignis) - isn’t doing anything in particular. He’s just existing, just breathing, and to reiterate, he’s Ignis’ boyfriend. And it’s the most wondrous thing Ignis could have hoped for. There’s nothing better he could have imagined in twenty-two years, eleven months, three weeks and five days.

“What are you staring at?” Prompto says, pushing his glasses farther up his face.

“Nothing,” Ignis gives him a fond smile. “I just like to look at you.”

“That’s gross,” Prompto says, scrunching up his nose. But he’s grinning. “Noctis, hold my boyfriend’s hand.”

Noctis, who’s been mercifully accommodating of Prompto and Ignis’ peculiar circumstances, merely makes a noise of understanding and flops out a hand for Ignis to hold.

“So, wanna take a trip for your birthday?” Prompto says with a smile.

“I’m not averse to the idea,” Ignis says, but that’s entirely an understatement. He’d go anywhere with Prompto, at this point. “What did you have in mind?”

Prompto’s grin turns mischievous. “Definitely not a cruise ship.”

THATS IT! (or is it?)

i may revisit this AU in the future! but for now, i have to work on my WIP for the big bang and some other stuff!

hope you enjoyed!

[brosura]

memento mori (the curious case of the baker on baker st.) pt. 3/4

Word Count: 3453 Rating: T probably Pairings: Prompto Argentum x Ignis Scientia Warnings: minor character death, major character death (VERY temporary), alcohol consumption, survivor’s guilt

“Ignis Scientia, young baker and private investigator’s assistant, has a peculiar gift. With a touch, he can bring the dead back to life.”

AKA the promnis pushing da*sies au no one asked for

in the penultimate chapter, four rowdy boys investigate a murder!

once again, big thanks to @danielkesslers for the last minute quick read to make sure, once again, that i am not being my needlessly confusing little self

[start with part I here] [read part II here] [read part IV here] [fic on ao3]

The facts are these.

Ignis Scientia - twenty-two years, six months, three weeks and five days old, off-duty baker, on-duty private investigator’s assistant and on-call mistake-maker - has many, many regrets.

They’re numerous and indiscriminate. He regrets drinking so much. He regrets not checking his text messages, a set of 20, all from Noctis, all announcing his arrival to the bakery. He regrets lying to Gladio. He regrets lying to Prompto. He regrets that spur of the moment decision that had lead to the death of a mean and greedy but otherwise healthy funeral director.

Well, he can’t say he particularly regrets that last one, as selfish as it makes him feel. Not when Prompto, young and full of life, is across from him, reading the obituary Gladio has pulled up on his phone from over his shoulder. Noctis, in all his kindness, has poured them all some coffee in spite of the lateness of the hour and Ignis nurses the cup with an anxious energy as Prompto squints hard at the screen between rubbing away the tears from his eyes with one of the sleeves of Ignis’ cardigan.

“So, like, how does it work?” Gladio drawls. He’s drunk but sobering quickly, and there’s still a smear of the blueberry pie on his forehead. “How does your power pick who dies?”

“Sixty-two years old…” Prompto mumbles.

“I’m not sure,” Ignis says. His mouth feels dry. “So far it seemed most reliant on proximity.”

“Proximity?” Gladio runs a hand through his hair, smearing a little more blueberry through it. “Like, the proximity that I was in?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Ignis can only say in answer. “I’m not proud.”

“Survived by…” Prompto chokes. “You’re fucking kidding me, survived by his two-year-old pomeranian?! Ignis, what the fuck?”

“I said I wasn’t proud,” Ignis sighs. “I’m- I don’t know how to apologize for putting you through this, Prompto. I don’t know if I can.”

The table falls quiet for a moment, a brief, but heavy moment where Ignis can’t focus on anything but the trembling of Prompto’s shoulders as he stares intently at Gladio’s screen, refusing to make eye contact. Noct’s knee bumps his gently under the table, clearly an effort at comfort, but it’s one he doesn’t deserve.

“Well,” Gladio breaks the silence before Ignis’ thoughts can get too dangerous. “Considering how things could have gone, I’d say things turned out just fine!”

“Fine?!” Prompto grimaces. “A dude is dead because of me! How is that fine?”

“Well, first things first. He’s dead because of Ignis,” Gladio says, matter-of-factly, with a gesture to Ignis across the table. “You didn’t ask to die and you didn’t ask to undie, so you’re not even kind of a guilty party here. Now, take a good look at the outcome. I’m not dead, which is great. You’re not dead, which- well, I don’t know you, but you seem like a good guy- so that’s great. That funeral director’s dead, which isn’t so great, but he was kind of an asshole.”

“He was still a person,” Prompto insists, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, but I’m just saying. Out of all the possible outcomes, we’ve somehow landed in the one with the least net shittiness. I say we just accept it and move on.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it at this point, anyway,” Noctis continues, tone gentle. He gives Prompto a tentative smile when Prompto’s eyes flick up to meet his. “Ignis can’t control who dies, so even if he did raise that funeral director, there’s no guarantee it’d be you that died in his place and not someone else. I think I’m with Gladio on this one.”

Prompto frowns, teeth coming out to tease at his bottom lip. With mounting horror, Ignis realizes that he’s blaming himself for this. And not only that, there’s something familiar about the crease of his brow, the way he’s trying to make himself smaller.

“Prompto, could I get a word?” he says.

Prompto doesn’t say a thing, but follows him easily to the kitchen where he hunches next to a fridge, eyes downcast.

“Prompto,” he starts. He hates the way Prompto flinches at the sound of his name. “I made a mistake. And I’m not proud to admit that I don’t regret it as much as I should. But it was my mistake, you needn’t blame yourself.”

“Lot of people been telling me that tonight,” Prompto says around a bitter laugh. He taps the fridge with his heel. “Maybe I’ll believe it one day.”

Ignis sighs. “Listen, Prompto. There’s something else I wanted to tell you. You don’t have to forgive me, you can never speak to me again if that’s what you want, but please, please, stop acting like we’d all be better off if you were still dead.”

Prompto bites his lip, the skin going white around where he’s clamping down, and Ignis knows he’s hit the mark. “How did you-?”

“It’s not an unfamiliar feeling,” Ignis says with a sad smile as Prompto hesitantly meets his eyes. “And, I can say with certainty it’s the furthest thing from the truth. You’re no burden. As untraditional as it might have been for you to come back like this, no one here hates you for being alive.”

Then Prompto’s blinking, and blinking, and rolling his eyes in a clear effort to keep the tears from falling. He clears his throat, muttering what sounds like a curse under his breath, then leans back hard on the fridge, tapping it a few times with his heel again.

“H-hey Ignis?” he finally says, voice rough with emotion. “Could you do me a favor and leave me alone for a minute?”

“Prompto-”

“You said,” Prompto interrupts. “You said if I wanted, I didn’t have to talk to you. Well, I don’t want to talk to you right now. J-just- I just need to be alone for a minute. Please.”

Ignis hesitates. He doesn’t want to leave Prompto like this, but he thinks if he ignores Prompto’s request he’ll damage something between them beyond repair. After a long moment, Ignis gives Prompto a little nod and leaves him standing there in the dark of the kitchen, alone.

He hopes this doesn’t become one of his regrets.

“Not great, huh,” is the first thing Gladio says as Ignis sits heavily back at their table. Then he goes back to eating his pie.

“You did what you could,” Noctis says, splaying a warm hand on his back.

“Did I?”

Noctis gives him a half-smile, half-grimace. “Well, you could have done better. Want me to check on him?”

Ignis just shakes his head and follows Gladio’s lead. They all sit in that silence for a long time, one that’s not so awkward, not so miserable, not so drunk. The companionable silence of three people who are all in different places, but can all enjoy the light, fruity flavor of a good slice of pie.

Ignis isn’t quite sure how long that silence lasts, but it’s broken abruptly and all at once by Prompto dropping a large metal bowl full of profiterole filling on the table. He slides into the booth on the tail end of the sound, bumping into Gladio on accident. He has the look of someone who’s been crying, eyes rimmed by red around the edges, but he doesn’t look quite so miserable as he shoves a spoonful of the vanilla custard into his mouth.

“Alright you guys,” he says, muffled around the mouthful of custard. “Here’s the plan.”

Gladio snorts, stealing some of the custard from the bowl with the tip of his finger. “I like this kid.”  

“Ignis,” he says, and Ignis is so surprised that Prompto’s speaking directly to him so soon that he jumps at the sound. “You brought me back to get information, right? Is there like, a bounty or something? For catching my killer?”

“Eighty thousand gil,” Gladio answers for him, and even though he’s still drunk his posture changes. He leans forward on both elbows, clasping his hands together, and turns his head to face Prompto directly. Even alcohol can’t stop him from conducting business, it seems. “That’s my case, though. You discuss the terms with me.”

Prompto flinches at being addressed directly, but the furrow of his brow is resolute as he says, “I want a cut.”

“That’s fair.” Gladio nods. “What percentage?”

“F-fifty percent.”

“No-go,” Gladio says in a neutral tone. “You died for this, so I’ll give you forty percent, but it’s still my case. And Ignis may have fucked up, but we couldn’t have gotten here without him. So it’ll be forty-thirty-thirty, and you still walk away with the biggest cut. Sound good?”

“Y-yeah,” Prompto says. Ignis gets the feeling he wasn’t prepared to actually negotiate, and Ignis is just relieved Gladio is his employer and not a sleazier man. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Great, let’s shake on it,” he puts out a hand.

Prompto, in all his good graces, only flinches a little at what must be a sticky and unpleasant sensation as Gladio’s pie-stained fingers wrap around his to give him a hearty handshake. Even from across the table, Ignis can see the remnants of blueberry filling smeared all over Prompto’s hand as Gladio pulls away, but Gladio himself doesn’t seem to be aware of the damage he’s done.

“We’re good, then,” Gladio slouches back, business conducting mode over and fully drunk again. He starts scooting out of the booth - bumping into Prompto in the process - and gets up with his pie in one sticky hand. “I’m gonna go home, eat this pie and knock the fuck out. You guys come by my office tomorrow morning and we’ll get started on that case of yours, Prompto.”

They all say a series of hushed goodnights and goodbyes, then Prompto wipes the stickiness from his hand and asks Noctis for his phone. As he types away, Ignis thinks he’s done talking for the night, that maybe he really did only want to deliver that ultimatum and now they’re back to not talking.

But then Prompto finally says, “And Ignis?”

“Yes?” he says, not ashamed at how relieved he sounds.

“You wanted to know if there was something you could do to apologize?” Ignis nods, then Prompto’s turning Noct’s screen around and he can see that it’s pulled up to the picture of a little pomeranian on the website of some kennel. “Start by adopting that dog.”

The facts were these.

Ignis Scientia - twenty-two years, six months, three weeks and five days old, occupational baker, contractual private investigator’s assistant and soon-to-be dog father - wakes up with a hangover and a singular drive to make his way to the animal shelter.

“Your owner had good taste, at least,” he murmurs to the little dog as she pants and keeps pace with him. “Basil is a very versatile spice and it has a lovely aroma. You could do much worse for namesakes.”

Basil, who turned out to be a delightful little thing with a tastefully black and tan coat and very well defined eyebrows, gives him a wheeze and a wiggle as they wait to cross the intersection to Gladio’s office in order to rendezvous with Noctis and Prompto.

Noctis, the good friend that he was, had sent him a few updates throughout the night and had even woken up as early as ten in the morning to send Ignis a text that he and Prompto would head to Gladio’s after brunch. So he’s not surprised to find them already there when he opens the door, letting Basil through first before stepping in himself.

“Oh,” Prompto gasps, grin rapidly brightening his face as Basil snorts at each of them in greeting. “You actually adopted the dog!”

“Well, I try to keep my promises,” Ignis says.

He doesn’t want to dwell on the delighted surprise in Prompto’s expression, the sort that suggests that Prompto’s so used to people breaking their promises with him that he’s stopped expecting anything, so he focuses on the fact that Prompto’s still wearing the gray cardigan instead.

“Did you have to bring it here?” Gladio grumbles, but it’s most likely because Basil has started sniffing at his pant leg and his fingers stiffen around the sandwich in his hands.

“I’m afraid I had to,” he says, calling Basil over with a few snaps of his fingers. “I couldn’t very well leave Basil here to her own devices.”

“Her name is Basil?” Prompto wheezes and she diverts her attention to him at the sound of her name, waddling over to sniff at his outstretched palm.

“You gonna help us solve a murder, girl?” Noctis coos, squatting down next to her to scratch under her chin.

“Are you gonna help us solve a murder, Prompto?” Gladio cuts in sternly, but Ignis doesn’t miss the way he’s tearing a piece of bread from the corner of his sandwich. “Or are we trying to get into the dog-sitting business?”

“R-right,” Prompto stutters and pulls himself back into the chair. “Right, so. What did you want to know?”

Gladio puts his sandwich down, leaning in towards Prompto with both elbows on the table. It’s a perfectly executed move from a Hollywood detective film, save for the subtle bump that shoves the torn bread corner off the table and into Basil’s eye line. Gladio looks pleased as she totters over to feast on it.

“So tell me: a young guy like you, lives with his parents, part-time mechanic with five payments left on a motorcycle,” Ignis blinks at the information, looking to Prompto only to see him nod with earnestness. A motorcycle? It seems there’s still quite a lot he’s yet to learn about Prompto. “Where’d you get the spare change for a luxury cruise?”

Prompto winces. “You’re really cutting right to the point here, huh?”

“I’m a private investigator,” Gladio offers, but he’s leaning in closer in the way he does when he knows he’s onto something. “So where’d you get the money?”

“I, er, ok. Ok.” His eyes flick around to each person before settling on Ignis. “Just don’t get mad.”

“Prompto,” Ignis says as gently as he can in spite of the anxiety rising in the pit of his stomach. “What did you do?”

“N-nothing bad,” Prompto flinches again. “I mean, I don’t think it was anything bad. B-but I really didn’t- I was stupid, ok?”

“What kind of stupid?” Gladio presses.

Prompto gulps audibly. “There’s this travel agency near the garage where I work. The guy who runs it, he said he’d pay for my trip if I just brought these two tonberry statues to give to someone at our destination.”

Everyone in the room lets out some kind of breath. Gladio shakes his head. “Kid…”

“He said they weren’t worth anything! He was very clear that they only had sentimental value!” Prompto insists, but the shaking of his voice suggests that he knows the mistake he made. He lets out a tired sigh. “Look, I said I was stupid. I just- I had a shitty life, ok? Everything felt like a dead-end and I was so sick of it. I just wanted to get away for a bit, wanted to see the world and all that. I didn’t ask questions because I didn’t want to think about it. I was stupid.”

“Well, I’d say you paid your dues already,” Ignis offers with a tentative smile that Prompto returns with a wobbling one of his own. “And you’re hardly to blame for wanting a little something better out of life.”

Gladio grumbles something, then he’s pulling a familiar leather notebook out from a deskside cabinet.

“So this guy, he’s got regular business hours?” Prompto nods. “Let’s pay a visit, then.”

“Well, this certainly wasn’t what I was expecting,” Ignis says.

“O-oh man, is he-?” Prompto says.

“Dead. Recent, by the looks of it,” Gladio says.

“Pah!” Basil says.

The facts were these.

Dino Ghiranze was a man with his hands in many pies, so to speak. He was careful and attentive in organizing the preparation, baking and shipping of these metaphorical pies and had seen a great increase in wealth in a short amount of time, as evidenced by his recently gold-plated name tag.

Unfortunately, one of the consequences of having hands in many pies is having just as many competitors, and one of them seems to have a penchant for strangling people with plastic bags.

“Ignis.” Gladio waves him over as he pulls the plastic bag from over Dino’s head. “Do your thing.”

“Right,” Ignis huffs, handing Basil off to Noctis.

He sets the timer on his watch as Prompto settles in the chair across from Dino with a resolute set to his brow.

“Is that how I looked?” He grimaces. “God, that’s embarrassing.”

“Stay focused, Prompto,” Gladio scolds, and Ignis sets his fingers tentatively on Dino’s left hand.

He awakens as if from sleep. Then, noticing his company, leans forward amicably on his marble desk.

“What can I do for- Oh, Prompto! What a surprise! Thought I might see you here, kid!” he reaches over to give Prompto a hearty slap on the shoulder. “So, what is this? Up top or down low.”

“Er,” Prompto stutters, blinking at Ignis. “The middle? Well, whatever it is, Dino, we don’t have long to talk.”

“Does everyone get to talk?” Dino asks, eyes shifting from person to person. “Or is this like, an unfinished business thing?”

Prompto narrows his eyes. “You knew this was going to happen.”

“I mean, I knew something was gonna happen,” Dino shrugs. He starts to right the things on his desk that he must have toppled while being strangled to death. “Didn’t know what, exactly, but if it had been a safe trip, let’s just say I would have gone myself. The tropics are beautiful this time of year.”

“Y-you-” Prompto stutters.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, kiddo. I tried to warn you, y’know.” Prompto’s glare deepens. “What? I did! It was in the liability waiver. Didn’t anyone tell you to read those things?”

“It was in the- Dino, you mother-”

“Prompto,” Gladio warns, gently pushing Prompto’s rolling chair out of the way. “Mr. Ghiranze-”

“Please, it’s Dino! Mr. Ghiranze is my father.”

“Dino,” Gladio says, tone edging on impatience. “Do you know who killed you and Prompto?”

“Can’t say,” he says, as casual as if he’s discussing the weather. “Real professional, that guy. Came up from behind, bag over the head. He even had gloves! Couldn’t have gotten an ID even if I tried.”

“You said he’s a professional. The hired kind?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Got a lot of people in my business, don’t know which one’s finally decided to do something about the competition. I can tell you this, though: those little tonberries would have made someone very, very rich, very, very quick. Can’t blame a guy for being an opportunist.”

Gladio huffs. “Another dead end.”

“So, can I interest any of you boys in-?” he doesn’t get the chance to finish before his head drops to the table with an audible thud.

“S-sorry,” Ignis says softly as he pulls his hand out from under Dino’s now lifeless body ten full seconds before the deadline. “I was getting nervous. It’s just, you’re all in here, and-”

“You’re fine,” Gladio mutters off-handedly. He’s got his brow drawn with intense concentration, the way Ignis has only seen a handful of times. “Prompto?”

“Y-yeah?” Prompto straightens under the severity of his tone.

“How did you die? Exactly.”

“Well,” he frowns, both hands clenched on his knees as one bounces with a rapidly increasing tempo. Ignis wishes he could hold one of his hands, but, well, he’d just held Dino’s and the results were right in front of him. “I was trying to get a picture on the top deck, so I was kind of distracted, and someone came up behind me and put a bag over my head. That’s- That’s all I can remember, I’m sorry.”

Gladio lets out a thoughtful huff. “If they’d gotten what they wanted from you, they wouldn’t have killed Dino...”

“If they had…” Prompto frowns again, mouth straightening to a tight line. “Oh! My room key! I dropped my room key in the ocean! I remember! I was kind of freaking out about it, so I was taking pictures to calm down before I went to the front lobby for a new one. But then what happened happened and-”

“And if he didn’t have your room key,” Ignis says, latching onto the train of thought. “He couldn’t have gotten into your room for the tonberries.”

“Yeah!” Prompto says with a grin, clearly excited by this development. But then just as quickly, his face falls. “Uh, guys? Where do they send your stuff when you die on a boat?”

Oh, woops??? - Prompto

up next, four rowdy boys and a very good dog solve a murder!

let me know how ya felt!

[itshaejinju]

Name: Morana Tarda

(Morana is Slavic for Death and Tarda is Latin for slow, her name means Slow Death.)

Nickname: Rana (Only Gladiolus can get away with this) Mori by Sheridan.

Alias: The Danger (By Lunafreya), Failed MT, Crazed Shadow.

Gender: Female

Race: Human – Failed(?) MT experiment

Age: 29

Height: 5'5

Weight: 145lbs (BMI= 24 and SBMI 38/70)

Bust/Waist/Hip: 38DD/25/36

Hair: black at the shortest in is shoulder length and at the longest it is in the middle of the back, several chunks are dyed red (though this color changes often red is generally the color she chooses when she can’t make up her mind)

Eyes: (neutral state) sea foam green (manic state) emerald green

Skin tone: pale she can’t tan to save her life

Blemishes: light amount of freckles dusting her face several minor scars

Parents: Doesn’t remember them

Siblings: Has a faint memory of tall man saying he was her brother and something about immortal lions.

Weapon: Manic Stage: She will use anything nearby as a weapon, (folding laundry piss her off, she’ll choke you with a towel). Neutral stage: she uses a kusarigama (chain and sickle) and brass knuckles.

Personality: In neutral state Morana is sarcastic, cunning, brash, clumsy, flirty, will come up with the best plan to get the job done lives might be lost but job done. In manic state Morana is cunning, violent, irrational, blood thirsty, looks out for herself even her s/o is not safe. She will break bones, life threatening damage just to finish her task in manic state, people will get harmed it might cause a lot of collateral damage but job done.

Morana does not have multi-personalities, one would think that with neutral and manic state she does. It’s like anxiety triggers more or less, the reactions are just so severe due to the experiments done on her by the Niflheim army. There is also no angel/demon state of her it’s more like demon/arch demon state. She has a high sex drive, flirts with a lot of people regardless of gender. What turns her on? Someone that can bring her out of manic state, tall, muscles, scars, piercings, humor and anyone that pays her attention. She’s in kinky rough sex, many fetishes will have sex in any location and isn’t afraid to show off scratches and hickies, getting caught is hot in her opinion.

What triggers her? Blood, is she sees/smells blood it brings up a fire in her and manic state is started. She generally doesn’t regret what she does in manic state. If it happens it happens.  

What brings her out of a manic state? Tire her out, she needs someone physically strong enough to wear her down so she just passes out or becomes neutral again. (Hence why her affection towards Gladio.) This is also a turn on for her, she will try to seduce the person who brought her out of manic state because they put themselves at a great risk to bring her down she views that as romantic. If she goes against someone who is doesn’t have enough physical endurance (like Prompto) it will get her madder and it might cause him total physical harm where he’ll need a phoenix down. She will not apologize for it afterwards she will callously say “you shouldn’t have tried to help if you were going to fail me.”

She was in the facility being experimented on as a MT (Magitek) Soldier she didn’t take to the experimenting well. Scrapped aside thinking that she was “deactivated” Morana woke and made her escape, whether it was planned or not no one really knows it was a stroke of luck. She is addicted to pain killers, elixirs, hi-potions she will go without meals to take opiates to cover up the pain she physically feels from the experiments. Even when there isn’t pain she’ll take stuff just to feel a high. Sometimes in a high state she can get too excited and go into a manic state those are particularly dangerous times, rare but to knock her out you have to knock her low enough to use a phoenix down on her. The chemicals they used to facilitate the MT experiments did a lot of damage to her organs mainly her brain.

Her deal with the Chocobros:

Noctis Lucis Caelum: She views him as lazy, she does appreciate his “protective” guarding of Prompto when she is around and finds his humor appealing. (She would fuck him but leave him bruised for ages. “Now you have a reason to sleep, Lazy Prince.” )

Prompto Argentum: She is obsessed with Prompto not in a “I love you” way but rather “how in the hell did you stay sane after the experiments?” way. She will torment Prompto asking him constantly how is he sane what makes him different than her what makes him so special. (She wouldn’t fuck him she would tie him up and torture him sure but sex no she doesn’t want to be with “Successful” MT Experiment. “What makes you so damn special? That halo above your head?”)

Ignis Scientia: She would be the chaos to his calm way of life. Her brash way of speaking, vulgar language and general ways of being would bother Ignis to no ends. Constantly telling that he’s just a pawn that he will never be separate from the “Lazy Prince” if he continues to baby him. Though, Blind Ignis she treats differently. Both neutral and manic stages are almost protective of him knocking him out of the way in battles so he can’t get harmed. Sure he might get hurt by a rock smacking him in the head but he’s not getting stabbed by a Dualhorn. She won’t admit to helping him though and if anyone does she’ll punch them then Ignis. (Would fuck blind Ignis but she would make it so he couldn’t hear her and hope he wouldn’t know it was her. “I can tell you what you can do with that new recipe. . .replace it with vicodin and rum.”)

Gladiolus Amicita: Immediately attracted to the Kings Shield. (He felt the same way.) She will challenge him for a battle at any time trying, her best to out do him in training exercises. She will curl up with him and read with him whatever he’s reading, but if anyone mentions that it looks cute she’ll get up and leave. (Think of Morana as a cat in a way) She doesn’t understand how to give gifts and stuff like the social protocol of it all, so her giving things to Gladio is generally humorous or disastrous. So her best gifts are sex whenever and when she’s having dinner of pain killers and booze she’s giving him her share of food. (She doesn’t understand that he accepts it to be nice but he rather have her eat properly.) (Fucks him often needs a kiss after a battle because she’s turned on. “I would smack a roll of Gil off his ass if I had the money.”)

Others:

Ravus Nox Fleuret: In neutral state she stays away from him finding him outlandish, she doesn’t understand people who don’t talk much. She likes to stare at him then surprise attack him very much to the Commander’s disapproval. In manic state she likes to verbally attack him to make him shout at her and attack.

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret: Doesn’t like Lunafreya too much, “goody two shoes” that Lunafreya cannot heal her wounds. There is no fixing her the state is too far gone, but she doesn’t understand that. She doesn’t believe someone can always be so nice that she’s hiding something.

Cor Leonis: When she runs into Cor with the Chocobros at the Tombs she feels he’s familiar. Calling him a Immortal Lion before he even is introduced to her, she just knows it like it’s from a dream. She doesn’t like that she feels she knows him as she can’t be sure those memories are real because she doesn’t remember parents or anything before being kidnapped by the Niflheim army. A few things she was revealed to her was all a lie but some true and she has no way of finding out she could just speak to Cor about it but not having good enough social skills she doesn’t know how to approach him.

Ardyn Izunia: The man brings out her manic state without even setting off her triggers. The very air around the man sends her in a fit. Something about him makes her upset and afraid. So it sends her in a manic state, he easily evades her attacks and down talks her a lot. He is behind a lot of her problems, implanting strange “memories” in her head just to mess with her. Calls her Rana a lot despite she can’t stand anyone but Gladio calling her that. He likes tease her with times being experimented on.

Cindy Aurum: Cannot handle the sound of her voice it drives her insane with the accent it makes her cringe to hear Cindy speak. Insults her often sometimes under her breath or straight to her face, does her best to prank her.

Iris Amicita: Envious of the young Amicita because of Gladio she puts a lot of distance between the two because she doesn’t want to go manic on her and harm her. She wishes she could have grown up in Iris’ spot a normal childhood. Seeing Iris brings a huge spike of jealousy in her that makes her sick like extremely sick.

Cid Highwind: Doesn’t trust older people as she associates them with the scientists and Betisthia. She thinks they are all tied in with her pain.

—-

@stephicness @rubyreddemise @shiroce My OC I’ve been working on a character bio for her~. @moranathefailedmt THIS IS HER BLOG!