#he loves his rowdiest kitties

[ratatatastic]

paulson gushes about his kitties: benny edition because its about damn time we get a benny love talk during the trying times that is the contract year™ feat. paul going :D for a whole minute

"i saw sam bennett smile today!! first time in two years!!" "is this a big enough smile for ya?"

florida panthers @ calgary flames pregame interview | 12.14.24 (x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

[the-truth-will-light-the-sky]

Road Trip with Prince Regis and His Crew

Prince Regis Lucis Caelum crosses the continent alongside his friends Cid Sophiar, Weskham Armaugh, Clarus Amicitia, the young but firecracker Cor Leonis and an unexpected guide. Who can shower in the rain? 

Long Headcanon post...again. 

The song playing in my mind each time I imagine Prince Regis and his friends cutting across the continent towards Accordo is “Blowing in The Wind” by Stevie Wonder (his version is so beautiful). Imagine the prince and his friends singing the lyrics to the songs they love, not minding if they’re out of tune or out of sync (that’s Cid).

Regis  

Regis is the fussiest among the rest of the crew. Not about mud or dust. It’s not that. The only thing he’d ever care about are his dirty clothes.

He’s used to presenting himself in the best image at all times, he’s used to keeping his look pristine and well-kept and so must his clothes.

Oh and hygiene. He’s fine with dirt. But no proper baths or showers? Expect the prince to be pouty until their next motel or caravan stop.

Gloves all day, every day. In the cold, in the heat, while sleeping, while eating --  Prince Regis doesn’t like dirt in between his fingernails. 

Aside from all these, Regis is a complete outdoors man. He can adapt to any situations and would always have the best solution to the weather.

Rain? He’s got an umbrella at his disposal. Too hot? He’s brought his sleeveless shirts (black and sleek, of course. He has to wear those for the photos because Aulea loves seeing him in those things). Too cold? He’s got the thickest and comfiest coat. Fashionable too, of course.

When it comes to food, despite being used to the finest cuisine Lucis and Insomnia has to offer, Regis can stomach just about anything.

He’s endured so many things even at a young age. Five star food can wait. At twenty, Regis doesn’t mind if he’s eating toast all day or beans. He can eat any vegetables that Weskham can find.

Regis brought most of his essentials with him. As mentioned, there’s his hygiene and shaving kit. He’s also brought his sewing kit to fix those loose buttons and yes his pants that is ripped in the middle, his medicine (he gets allergic to the outdoors sometimes; Cid calls him a princess), his favourite book, extra pairs of gloves (must hide that ring), flashlights, extra weapons just in case he loses yet another dagger, his favourite coffee brand and of course, and of course his phone card (gotta call his sweetheart Aulea).

Regis is a really bad driver — every one of them would scramble for the seat belts only to know there aren’t any. Instead, they’d hang on to their dear lives each time he’s behind the wheel.

Regis would drive and chat, much to everyone’s horror. Cid’s incessant cursing doesn’t help either, as it even encourages Regis to be animated with his expressions and uses his hands to tell his stories.

Regis is not the first to rise in the mornings, but he’s not the last either. He’s more of the middle.

He’s one of the last to sleep, though. He’s got a lot on his mind. 

And the complete darkness gives him the chills. He’s used to the comfort of Insomnia’s bright lights or his bedside lamp.

The Prince has the quickest reflexes and the sharpest hearing, too. So if anyone starts to fight their pillow in their sleep (it’s Cid), he’s the first to grab his heavy flashlight to brandish about as if all of Eos’ daemons are jam-packed in their already full tent.

Regis would give Cid a playful kick in the leg to rouse him from his sleep, much to no avail.

Being a proper prince and all, Regis is not an unruly tent mate. He keeps much to his own space and rarely snores.

Just don’t deprive him of his pillow and blanket. He’s used to comfort and his back hurts a lot if he doesn’t have any cushioning. Cid calls him a sissy, to which the Prince retorts that he won’t share his exquisite Lucian blanket when the temperature gets cold. 

He kept his word, of course. Cid immediately regretted the decision as the comforter reached up only until Weskham. He’d have to endure the surface and the cold. His favourite line of ‘Oh my achin’ back’ originated from this little event.

He’s the guy who wants the oil lamp to be set to dim at night inside the tent, not to be extinguished at all.

The Prince of Lucis does the dishes. Don’t let the sharp suit and neatly trimmed nails fool you. He’s built for hard work and he’s willing to do it all.

Just don’t make him put up the tent, if you don’t want it to look like a child’s make-believe fortress in the end.

Prince Regis can be a rebel out in the wild. He’s not a stranger to mischief despite his gentlemanly demeanour. Like every young man, he always likes to get away with some trouble making.

Regis prefers to use his weapons against daemons whenever they stayed too late out in the wilds. He would be inheriting the Ring of the Lucii but he prefers not to use it against the daemons.

He’s not afraid to fight them off. Although, he has a particular dislike of those Nagaranis and Necromancers. Gives him the shivers like the Frozen’s Glacian’s breath breathing down his neck.

The Prince, despite his wealth, is the stingiest of all the guys. He’d hold back until the last moment a.k.a. until the seller gives up and gives him half the price. Score!

Thinks he’s the coolest guy in Lucis whenever he drives his car. He’s a bit vain when he’s out on the road; he knows he looks too damn fine and sexy in his gloves as he drives out into the wild in his sleek and shiny Regalia.

Cid

The able mechanic has all his tools with him. It’s stored in the back of the Regalia, inside his pockets, even inside his jacket or his screwdriver tucked in his pants. Don’t ask where he keeps the screws.

Cid is the rowdiest of the group. And he never shuts up.

He does keep to himself sometimes, but if he’s in one of his moods, Cid will just keep on singing to his heart’s content.

He likes to take the wheel when on the road, but Regis says no.

Aside it from being his car, Regis knows that if Cid is behind the wheel, it means that the grumpy mechanic holds all reins to the car audio system.

It’s all country music or swampy music of course. Cowboy tunes are his favourite.

Not that the guys mind, of course. They’re not choosy. But it’s Cid’s incessant singing that bugs them.

He can’t even sing the songs right, almost always singing the lyrics late. When he realises this, he tries to quicken his singing to keep up with the song. It’s like listening to those tapes that you fast forward. It’s both funny and annoying at the same time.

Cor would never admit it, but he likes it whenever Cid starts singing. It gives him the best laughs in his ‘boring’ life.

In the whole crew, Cid is the most un-fussiest of them all when it comes to camping.

Beans for lunch? Great, tastes like caviar. No water for showering? He can shower in the rain. A snoring Clarus for the rest of the night? Why, music to his ears. A bratty Cor Leonis? Lemme handle this brat.

Cid loves camping. He’s ecstatic to be out in the wild. He’s not fond of the bright lights of Insomnia. He likes looking out into the wild lands each time he has the chance. And now he’s out here and there’s nothing that he could ever ask for. Oh, uh, except for peace of course. Peace needs to be won.

Cid, despite his hard demeanour, is a softie for the wild animals. The rest of the crew loves animals, of course, but the animals love Cid like he’s their daddy.

The mechanic can even tame a bloody sabertusk, petting its head while Clarus wrestles with one beside him, screaming as he does so.

Regis runs away from a pack of rogue Daggerquills while Cid has one perched on his shoulders like he’s freakin’ Snow White. He’s proud of it, of course.

‘They ain’t like the varmints folks call ‘em — they’re practically a softie!’ Cid says about a skarnbulette.

He even thinks a behemoth is an adorable little kitty. Clarus gives him the weird look reserved only for the looniest of people. Cid’s the second in that list of his, and that’s not a compliment.

Cid Sophiar puts up the tent. He’s the best tent maker around. The rest of them can screw it. Yup, his own words, not mine.

Cid is almost always awakened each time Regis rises from his sleep. The two best friends are inseparable despite their differences.

It is also universally known that if Regis catches the stomach flu, expect Cid to get the same predicament or something similar.

Cor Leonis gets on Cid Sophiar’s nerves. Not because the fifteen year old ‘stuck up’ is a hyper active teen because he’s not. It’s because he treats Cid with the utmost respect even if the older man tries to rile him up to get any kind of reaction from him aside from his usual stoic scowl.

Cid Sophiar always gets the ladies’ numbers if they’re ever stopping by civilisation. He’s a ladies’ man. Sorry, Weskham.

If only Cid’s incessant cursing and badmouthing can kill even the fiercest of daemons, Regis would be grateful. The mechanic slings out bad words like a freakin’ machine gun.

Weskham

This Keycatrich native is the calmest of the group.

Nothing ever freaks him out. Not even a rogue Behemoth screeching eerily close to their camps at night. Nope. Not even Cid’s stink eye nor Cor’s tantrums.

He’s the parent of the group. He’s the one who administers the medicines and the salves, the one who cooks, the one who is the first to rise from sleep.

He’s also got the longest patience. Cid can mumble his cowboy tunes like a broken vinyl record and Clarus can snore as loud as a behemoth until dawn and Regis can be all too fussy for not showering for two days and Cor can keep on babbling about the empire’s demise all day and night. Weskham doesn’t bat an eyelash. He’s chill.

But if anyone loses any of his pens or scratches his pans, expect a little scolding. Yes, even Regis…especially Regis. The prince accidentally washes his prized pan with the rough texture side of the sponge.

Being an able cook, Weskham can whip any delicious food up with just about any ingredient, to which the crew is very much grateful for. At least they won’t have bean soup for the third night straight. He’s looking at Cid.

Weskham is the most civil when it comes to getting rid of both vicious animals and villainous daemons. Swift and painless.

He has the best tunes than the rest of the crew. Whatever he picks to play in the Regalia, anyone would say it’s an agreeable choice.

Weskham loves to tell stories by the camp fire. This is Regis’ favourite part of the night.

The wise man always has something to tell and most of the time his stories are both exciting and insightful.

The guys look like children huddled by the camp fire, their eyes glued on the charismatic man as he regales them of tales of days past.

Weskham, suspiciously enough, has keys for almost everything.

When it comes to sleeping, Weskham is a shallow sleeper. He can rouse from his sleep just like Regis but unlike the Prince, this gentleman handles his sudden awakening with a very calm and collected demeanour, not thrashing about like a coeurl.

He is the only one in the group with a watch. In fact, he’s got like, five pocket watches?

He’s also the one they can rely on when it comes to reading compasses. But without it though, Weskham is, in Clarus’ own words, as useless as a dessert spoon.

Weskham is the voice of conscience. If Regis is driving recklessly, expect him to tell the prince to glue his eyes on the road. He’s also the one to tell Cid not to bother poor Leonis.

He is also the negotiator of the group. Cid is the opposite of course. When Cid gets them into trouble with anyone, especially at diners, Weskham is the man to do the job of clearing things. Regis can’t do it though because he won’t stop laughing at the bumbling mechanic.

Clarus

Clarus Amicitia hates bugs. He won’t stay still whenever he sees one. He won’t freak out, goodness no. But expect him to be jumpy each time he’d feel a mosquito on his skin. Those hundlegs? No thanks.

This is where his skill with blades come in handy. A fly on flying in front of you? SLASH. Clarus just slashed it in half with his little dagger. Cor wants to emulate it…he fails each time.

Cor asks his secret to being precise and agile. Clarus agrees to do so if Cor can tell him if the mosquito was a female or male. The young soldier gives him the famous Cor Leonis scowl. Priceless.

Clarus is the most adaptable to sleep and waking up. He needs to wake up early? No prob, he’ll be asleep by eight pm. He needs to stay up? No prob, bring in the coffee and expect him to be as hyper at four in the morning.

He likes to work out as much as he can. He also trains young Cor as Weskham cooks their food and Regis does his regular shave.

Clarus and Cid get on each others’ nerves sometimes. Nothing serious, though. It’s more that Clarus is used to keeping quiet and Cid is just the blabber mouth of the group. 

He particularly HATES it whenever Cid clicks his tongue to fill in the silence, especially at night.

He likes watching the stars before he goes to sleep. There’s something so calming about it each time he’d gaze at the stars in their millions.

He keeps a journal where he writes his star charts. 

He also writes about the animals and plants he sees. Everything about the wilderness amazes him. Yes, Clarus is the explorer of the group. One day, he’ll live out somewhere in Duscae where he’s surrounded by all things living. Insomnia’s just too full of buildings…and malls.

Clarus smuggled a frog in their journey. It’s his favourite pet, found it in Alstor Slough. His name is Pepito. Please don’t ask him why. Regis can’t get rid of it, not that he hates it. He likes it and wants it for himself. It’s just that, they can’t keep it from croaking all the damn time. Plus, Cid says frogs give warts. Weskham wants it out. Cor wants to keep it because it keeps the mosquitoes away. The said frog made it back to Insomnia.

He likes to sing in the mornings. He’s just way too happy in the early dawn.

Sabertusks hate Clarus. He doesn’t know why, but they always try to go after him. Remind him to bring extra clothes because he always ends up having ripped sleeves.

He’s the one who gets the fire going. Nobody else can do it like he does.

Clarus is not fussy with anything at all, except for his weapons. They have to be polished each time. 

Oh and, they must always have some hot sauce in their spices. This man lives for the spice.

And please, no matter what happens, please don’t give him those instant noodles. He wants real food. And real food takes time to be cooked.

Dirty nails, every damn time, no matter how many times he cleans them. It sets Regis’ hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Has the best whistle in the group; could be heard hundreds of feet away. No joke.

He’s also the navigator of the group. Regis is a lost cause in map reading and Cid is always holding the map on the wrong end. Weskham helps, but he’s not good with the actual terrain. 

Clarus sees a coin on the ground. He takes it. He sees a wonderfully shaped stone. He stashes it in his pocket. He finds a small crystalline curiosity. He covets it like a diamond ring. He’s the pack rat of the group.

Cor

Cor Leonis only thinks of one thing: keep the Prince safe. It’s hard-wired into his system. A pesky Voretooth is gnawing at the prince? Get rid of it. A cockroach is crawling on the prince’s shoulder? Smack it away. No more coffee? He’ll walk a kilometre to buy one.

Despite this, however, he’s no pet. He’s only doing his duty. Cor is not afraid to call out the prince if he’s doing something wrong. And it always happens.

Rain or shine, the young soldier always wears his hat. He’ll chase after it if it gets blown away. Cid teases him that he’s hiding something in his hat. He probably is, who knows?

Cor can sleep anywhere. He’s not fussy how he falls asleep. This boi can sleep standing up. 

He sleeps as still as a door nail -- he doesn’t move at all. He’s the perfect tent mate.

He loves to read his books before sleeping. Not maths or his studies, those are boring, he says. He likes to read nonfiction books about the world and of course, philosophy.

Cor can deny it all he wants, but he secretly likes it whenever Weskham makes a bowl of chilli. He lives for chilli nights.

He’s an all-around-er, meaning he can do almost anything. He’s a walking Swiss Knife.

If there are any imperial locks they needed to pick, Cor is expected to open it with ease. Oh and those tough cans of beans, he’s the only one who could open them.

Cor Leonis is stuck in the Regalia with older men. It’s not like he’s bothered by it; he even thinks as if he’s older than Cid. 

What he doesn’t get is their taste in music. He prefers the silence.

He likes to whistle, however. It’s the only habit that he can’t stop himself from doing.

He has a dislike for V, their guide. He doesn’t like that she dresses in men’s clothes and hides her face most of the time. He doesn’t trust people with secrets even if they have a good reason for it.

Cor treats her with courtesy but expect him to square his jaws whenever she gets to an enemy before him.

The wild animals love Cor Leonis. Even the bugs, much to his dismay.

He’s also known as the ‘Sunburn Kid’ as he always ends having his nose red after a long day on the road. He wears longs sleeves to shield himself from the sun, but his nose couldn’t escape the wrath of the sun.

He’s also the one who is more likely to catch a cold. He would have allergies too that would cause him to sneeze incessantly. The older guys feel sorry for the firecracker kid. He gets all pouty and his eyes would get so watery he looks like an innocent child.

Cor has names for everyone in the group, but he would never divulge it.

In fact, he has names for almost everything. It’s his way of amusing himself when the group starts talking about things like allergies or romance. Gotta keep himself entertained or else he might lose it.

Whenever they end up stopping by a gas station or a Crow’s Nest diner, Cor is the centre of attention.

Women of all ages gawk at him. The way he presents himself is a real lady killer. The older ladies remember their old romances back in the day, the moms would fuss about him asking if he’s already eaten and the young girls his age or the young women in their twenties would stare at him like he’s a rare chocobo.

Regis loves making fun of him, taking photos of the stoic young soldier as he whistles. He’s kind of proud of the ‘lil heartbreaker.

Clarus gives him the stink eye. It’s unfair.

Buys postcards from every damn outpost. He never sends it to anyone. He likes to collect them in his journal of mementos. Yup, Cor is loves to journal.

Cor is also the one with the most mosquito bites after a night at camp. He doesn’t know why, but bugs just love him.

Clumsy. He’s supposed to be the paragon of stoicism and grace, but somehow Cor ends up spilling his coffee on his pants, tripping on flat surfaces or knocking down merchandise. 

Beside disliking V, he found himself imitating her love for the word ‘phony.’

V

V finds herself crossing paths with Prince Regis and his crew. During their journey, she’s hired by the prince as their guide after she defeated a group of Reapers faster than any of them ever did.

That was before they knew she was a woman. She wore men’s clothing, trying not to show her face just in case someone who knows her sees her and asks why she hasn’t aged at all.

This triggered Cor’s suspicions about her when she revealed that she’s a woman by speaking since Cid won’t stop asking her about things.

Cor wants her out but Regis was adamant. Her skills and expertise in medicine would prove useful if they ever run out of potions supplies and their supplies are indeed running out, as well as their money. Plus it doesn’t hurt having a girl in the group.

After escaping Somnus Lucis Caelum two millennia ago, she lived her life as a rogue traveler, performing odd jobs from healer to scholar to hunter. That’s how she learned how to survive, hiding from the eyes of her most hated Lucian King.

During their days together, she doesn’t know who the guys are, even Regis. They never told her of their real identity nor their missions. In turn, she didn’t reveal her full name and never once stated her disdain for the Lucian line.

A wild woman in the battlefield. Cor considers her a savage in the way she fights as she fights with unrefined movements and uses every damn thing she can to her advantage. 

A crate on by the rocks? The perfect thing to throw on a Bulette before it rolls over and flattens poor Regis. A crouching Clarus? Why the perfect leverage for a pole arm dive attack. Cor’s daggers tucked in his back pockets? The best emergency weapons.

Veritas would often shout to the crew about the daemon’s weaknesses and would encourage them to use whatever they can to exploit the daemons’ weaknesses to kill them swiftly and painlessly.

She helps with the herb gathering, often times saving the guys from stomach aches or worse by telling them which mushrooms are not fit for consumption. Whoops. No wonder Regis gets stomach aches as he always picks the wrong ones! Good thing he didn’t get the ones with poison.

V can barter with the prices whenever they’d stop over at a market. Despite concealing her face, people know of the mysterious hunter who saved their hides a lot of times. So when this woman needs some discount, they’re not hesitant to give her some. They’d even throw in some free things, too, much to the crew’s gratitude. They once drove off with two boxes full of supplies and hurrah, Regis’ favourite coffee brand.

When it comes to hygiene, V is just like Clarus. She can handle all the dirt. She doesn’t have to shower a lot, much to Regis’ dismay. How can a woman be so unlady-like? V doesn’t mind, there’s always some place she can find for that most coveted shower time.

One of the boys. If there’s one thing that the crew has noticed is her lack of…femininity.

She can be as brusque as Clarus or as bad-mouthed as Cid (to a lesser degree, thank goodness) and as tough as Cor.

But show her a spider and all femininity goes back to her in a snap. 

She once spilled her hot cup of coffee on herself when a spider jumped at her one morning and Regis found himself holding on to a scared witless V. That started their friendship that would last a long time since in fact, Regis himself is terrified of spiders. So they both ran towards Clarus who also ran towards a very confused Cor Leonis who in turn held the spider in his hands (Regis cringes) and out of their sight.

V loves to catch the first rays of the sun as well as the last golden light at dusk. She talks of different things with them, especially with Weskham whose wisdom and calm demeanour she finds refreshing.

When it comes to sleeping, V sleeps outside the tent, much to their protests. Cor Leonis is suspicious of her, so he sleeps outside sometimes too.

She likes listening to the guys as they banter. She’d inadvertently join in, causing a ruckus when she defeated Cid in a ‘back talk’.

She doesn’t need saving, even from persistent men in the diner. 

Regis likes watching her turn down good looking men and women. She once smacked a guy in the face when she felt him feeling her up. 

Clarus had to carry her away. That’s the only saving she needed, much to the prince’s amusement. He remembers that, even until today.