chauffeuring | open post

[ the answer from gladio isn't exactly a surprise to ignis as he duly listens to the other's thoughts on the matter. how nice it must be to so ignorant of the facts and just go running headfirst into whatever was going on. it didn't matter that they were in an outpost that would probably get destroyed in the fighting or that normally they would fight the niflheim forces out in the open and away from innocent people.

later ignis would realize his reaction is out of proportion to what's going on, bordering on the line of hysteria, but right now in the moment he's barely even aware. all he can feel is the persistent sense of loss. he should be consoling his friend, mourning the loss of noct, not feeling irritated at the other for the slightest resistance.] No, we all need to be leaving shortly. We cannot allow the fighting to take place here. Drink your coffee and be ready to move.

❰ the logic is sound, gladio can at least recognize that in a detached sort of way. it's the kind of logic they'd use to dictate their choices if noctis were still here with them. but as it turns out, he isn't - so the coffee remains untouched and gladiolus remains unbudged. ❱

Move, then. ❰ his words themselves are certain, but there's an audible void where conviction should be. ❱ Take him and go.

[ ignis can scarcely believe what he's hearing. take him and go. as if they were going to leave someone else behind knowing full well that gladio would be killed during the onslaught. certainly he would take some of the bastards down, that isn't even up for debate, but from the info that's been sent their way this is more than just a few MTs on a routine patrol.

is this gladio's idea of a joke and ignis just isn't getting it? he clenches his fists, gritting his teeth as he bites his next words out. etro help him.] We are not leaving without you, are you having any problems understanding that part?

❰ this is no joke. this is the farthest thing from a joke that gladio has probably told anyone in his whole life. if a lesser army of magitech soldiers are going to show up on their doorway, maybe that's how this is supposed to go. and he'll fight and what's left of their army will put him down hard, or else he'll wipe them out and that, that'll be his sign that he was meant to make it through this.

but ignis is being obstinate and gladio's getting tied of the argument, so he's going to have to put an end to this somehow. ❱

You can get the civilians out of here, or you can stand here and bitch at me 'til the Niffs come and gun them all down.

[ the fact gladio could even say such a thing is such a surprise that ignis has to silently mouth the words to himself, repeating them as if they had some hidden meaning that he's missed the first time in his disbelief. Get the civilians out of here....

ignis can't curb the frustration and grief any longer, both feelings suddenly overwhelming enough to smother logic and common sense. they've just lost noctis, the one thing they were destined to follow forever. he's gone to a place where they can't follow and now gladio is being ridiculous, talking about them both standing there and letting others die as they do nothing. how dare he talk about such things so easily? to talk about civilians dying so callously and effortlessly. later ignis will realize that he skewed that out of proportion but right now it doesn't stop him from doing the first thing he can think of; a swift right hook to the other's face without so much as a word.]

❰ later, gladio too will realize how stupid and bull-headed he'd been throughout most of this conversation, but right at this moment he's making the only choice he feels like he has it in him to possibly make. if he can convince ignis to get the innocents away from the scene, nobody has to get caught in the crossfire.

the fist catches gladio entirely off guard. he's not braced for it in the slightest, and his head jerks to the side with little resistance. it doesn't hurt though - it should hurt, it's both solid and sharp plus stupidly fast, but gladio isn't... feeling shit properly right now. even if he were, it might not hurt right anyway. the blow hit below his eye, just short of dead-on with his scar, and that's been more numb then not for the two years he's had it.

but whether or not he feels it much on a physical level, it sends a spiderweb-crack trailing out in all directions across whatever mental-emotional barricade he's using to numb himself on the inside. ignis can't see it, not yet - the outward signs are subtle, a slow exhale as he straightens out his head again, the slow uncurling of his fists to grip white-knuckled on the chair's arms. a flicker of something in his eyes before he closes them. things are coming undone, but not quickly enough. to iggy, it probably seems like his uncharacteristic show of violence had no effect at all. ❱

[ ignis is certain that this is how it all ends, that it's this exact kind of shit that izunia has been trying to do all along. nothing is right and ignis feels as if he's in some kind of free fall, where there's no way to stop any of it nor any chance to gain some semblance of control. the last time ignis felt so helpless was the longest of times ago when he was nothing but a small child starting their first day of education in a school for the gifted. at least that had worked out. this whole useless exercise doesn't have a good end that ignis can see and he swallows his next words, realizing that he's just given gladio a conversation starter for the next few weeks. how has it come to this?

Sort yourself out, Gladio. ignis wants to shout the words, to shake gladiolus and make sure that the shield can't do anything except hear them. but what's the point? it's not changing anything and right now ignis is wishing he was anywhere in the world but here. he wishes it had been himself and not noct. anything but this.]

Right then. [ quiet, matter of fact, ignis turns and heads for the bed. he can't stand to look at anyone right now, let alone gladio and his non-reaction to everything around him. the bed is an easier target and ignis almost viciously begins to set the blankets straight, clicking his tongue as one of the corners begins to stray. he's over doing it, moving it here and there by the smallest of fractions and seeing some imperfection that requires restarting and it's only when it's perfect that ignis spots his one mistake. gladio is built of hard stuff and punching the other comes with it's own hazards; mainly a split knuckle that has consequently left a few drips of crimson across the white sheets.

ignis stares at those marks as if they're responsible for everything, expression one of bewildered hurt as though he just can't believe he's done this. it has to be perfect and now it's worse than when he started and already he's smoothing his hands over the marks in some vain attempt to get rid of them, gladio all but forgotten in the interim.]

❰ though there's no tangible difference in ignis's movements, his pain hits gladiolus like a truck. it's like a vacuum exists where iggy once stood, and gladio can't figure out how to properly breathe through the force of it.

before he can even think, he's on his feet, eyes open, heading for the bed and the man who until moments ago was struggling to make it. with shaking hands he reaches out to snag ignis's wrists in no uncertain terms and pull them up into the space between them. ❱ Stop, stop - ❰ low and raw, his next inhale a shudder. with only a moment's hesitation, his forehead falls heavily on iggy's shoulder. ❱ I-... ❰ but he doesn't know how to finish that sentence. how to fix any of this. he doesn't know why it suddenly matters that he even try, when just a minute ago he was content to sit here and make his final stand. ❱

[ the small drop of blood on the sheets is starting to become a serious problem in ignis' mind, representing everything that is wrong at that exact moment. if he'd had his gloves then it wouldn't have even become an issue, but then if noct hadn't died — if they hadn't failed — then his gloves would be where they were supposed to be.

it takes a second for ignis to even realise he can't move his hands, noticing that gladio has snagged them. when had he even moved from the chair without being spotted? ignis quickly wonders just how caught up he'd been to miss it, making no move to free his wrists or move away when gladio rests a forehead on his shoulder. gladio doesn't need to say anything, they understand each other even without having to say it. everything is a mess and no matter what they do it's not something so easily put back together, if at all. ignis swallows, voice thick as he tries to talk around the lump in his throat. his chest already feels inexplicably tight and he rests his jaw against gladio's temple in a small show of sympathy and understanding.] I don't know how to fix this...

❰ if there's any such thing as mercy anymore, it shows itself when ignis fails to lash out at him for a second time, instead pressing his jaw to gladio's temple to unknowingly offer what's probably the strongest grounding force gladio has right now. for a blissful second, there's almost nothing. it's not the eye of the storm, but to a much lesser degree it's not unlike it.

but moments later, gladio's inexplicably aware of how badly his hands are shaking, because now they're shaking iggy's hands just as badly, and somehow that's not an acceptable consequence, so with that realization comes release. he lets go of the other man's hands, not quite as if burned but not entirely gentle either, and - 'i don't know how to fix this...' - his own hands sink uselessly to his sides. ❱

You - ❰ but that wasn't even a word, really. a sound at best. he doesn't know where all of the air in his lungs went, but he forces them now to at least partway refill.

at once, gladio tries again. ❱ You don't fix this. Nobody does. ❰ he's not trying to be depressing or make this worse. he just can't lie right now, not to himself and for damn sure not to iggy. ❱

[ upon hearing those words from gladio, ignis can't help but close his eyes and hold his breath. hearing them spoken out loud just cements everything into place, that no matter what he does or how much he pretends everything is normal, nothing will truly be the same. the gaping hole left behind by noctis will never go away or stop hurting. normally people would grieve and in time come to accept their loss as they spend time fondly remembering their loved one. ignis knows better though. this will never get easier because it's not just a friend they've lost. he'd been just about raised to look after noctis and without him what else was there? what would he even do? there's no backup plan for when the center of your world falls apart.

ignis lets his breath out, ignoring how shaky it is as he blinks back tears. crying won't fix anything or solve any problems; shedding tears won't bring back the dead and ignis can't help but despise how his body betrays him as the corners of his vision begin to blur. he even reaches out to snag gladio's wrist with one hand, taking the smallest piece of solace he can in that simple touch.] Then what's the point?

❰ iggy's shaking. at least his breath is, and gladio may have been shaking all this time but this is different. ignis, he's-... well, obviously not impenetrable, but some part of gladio used to think he was.

it's as if all this time, he expected iggy to have some kind of logical rationale for why things aren't entirely fucked. but he doesn't, and the weight of that fact bears down hard on gladio's shoulders. it's heavy, too heavy.

the instant the hand closes around his wrist, gladio's knees drop out from under him, forehead sliding off ignis's shoulder and down most of his chest. and then he's on a knee, almost as if he's taking some sort of oath instead of simply falling apart. his other hand's found the one wrapped around his wrist and that's where his forehead rests now, on the only contact left between them. it's a lifeline he doesn't deserve. ❱

I should've - ❰ he chokes, sucking in a hitched breath. his own eyes are swimming now, the carpet blurring in the moment before he closes them altogether. ❱ I-, I did this. All I had to do was - ❰ was protect the prince. he had one job. ❱

[ there are no answers for what has happened, nor are there answers for what they should be doing next and that realization takes ignis' breath away all over again. everything they have done up until now had a purpose and now there was nothing to look towards but a chasm of uncertainty. there is no longer a set direction for them to follow.

ignis snaps out of his fugue a little as he feels gladio sinking to one knee. it's not difficult to see the thought process and emotions that gladiolus is going through. to some degree they all feel it, but ignis knows on some level that the amicitia family had their own crosses to bear and that the death of the crown prince would be something to haunt gladio for decades. ignis quickly makes a decision, trying to ignore his own crippling pain in order to help another. he doesn't have any hope for the future or plans to make for them to adhere to, but ignis knows that at least right now he can try to make some kind of a difference.

otherwise what else is there? what is the point of any of this? what is the point to him?

ignis crouches down as he does his best to hold his own emotions in check. gladio needs him, he needs someone and ignis reaches out to place his free hand on the back of the other's neck.] You did not do this. You didn't.

open post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject