[And so he’s met with fire, absolutely white hot, a flaring up of defiance from Prompto that very few people have ever been bold enough to toss at him. Ardyn actually lifts his eyebrows, taking in everything that the young man has to say. Every little tell of his body language, the way his shoulder shakes with each word. How very convinced he is of his own humanity, that spark of hope that lingers and shines so bright that he actually has the courage to speak with him in this way.
He hates it, Prompto's propensity to believe in his own humanity. He sees it as something he can no longer do, something that Prompto has managed in the face of uncertainty and discontent, simply because — he can only assume — that others around him have convinced him of it. Ardyn tells himself that he should unravel that confidence, thread by thread. Watch it fray at the edges, to yank and pull at it until it knots and becomes something that Prompto would never be able to sort through again.
That was easier than self-reflection in this very moment. Thoughts that Ardyn never wants to entertain while in the company of others. It’s simpler, so much simpler, to just make others hurt as he had hurt once (still hurts). To see Prompto flourish past his sense of not-belonging, of not being human, makes him want to drag him so deep back under that surface of self-doubt so that he may drown.]
How defiant you are. Have I struck a nerve, Prompto?
[He is an unmoving pillar in the face of the storm that is the other. Each word purposefully chosen, only the way his jawline flexes betraying any of these thoughts going through his head.]
And I hope you’re not trying to strike one of mine. You’re missing the mark. [That might be a bluff, but it’s besides the point. He steps forward, which closes the gap of comfortably between them. Ardyn’s tall, and it’s easy to seem like he’s looming.] If you want to embrace being “human”, then I’ll not stop you. It makes you no harder to break than before. If anything, it makes it easier, makes you far more fragile. How easily humanity can shatter us all, and don't think that just because Eos is gone that I'll be disinclined to do it, when met with such stubbornness.
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He hates it, Prompto's propensity to believe in his own humanity. He sees it as something he can no longer do, something that Prompto has managed in the face of uncertainty and discontent, simply because — he can only assume — that others around him have convinced him of it. Ardyn tells himself that he should unravel that confidence, thread by thread. Watch it fray at the edges, to yank and pull at it until it knots and becomes something that Prompto would never be able to sort through again.
That was easier than self-reflection in this very moment. Thoughts that Ardyn never wants to entertain while in the company of others. It’s simpler, so much simpler, to just make others hurt as he had hurt once (still hurts). To see Prompto flourish past his sense of not-belonging, of not being human, makes him want to drag him so deep back under that surface of self-doubt so that he may drown.]
How defiant you are. Have I struck a nerve, Prompto?
[He is an unmoving pillar in the face of the storm that is the other. Each word purposefully chosen, only the way his jawline flexes betraying any of these thoughts going through his head.]
And I hope you’re not trying to strike one of mine. You’re missing the mark. [That might be a bluff, but it’s besides the point. He steps forward, which closes the gap of comfortably between them. Ardyn’s tall, and it’s easy to seem like he’s looming.] If you want to embrace being “human”, then I’ll not stop you. It makes you no harder to break than before. If anything, it makes it easier, makes you far more fragile. How easily humanity can shatter us all, and don't think that just because Eos is gone that I'll be disinclined to do it, when met with such stubbornness.