ardyn izunia belongs in the garbage bin. (
daemonized) wrote in
nysalogs2017-10-03 09:35 am
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[ OPEN ]
Who: Ardyn Izunia (
daemonized) & YOU!
When: Event things! All throughout October.
Where: All around.
Warning(s): None... yet. Will add if necessary.
i. market district;
ii. red light district;
iii. wildcard;
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
When: Event things! All throughout October.
Where: All around.
Warning(s): None... yet. Will add if necessary.
i. market district;
[He wasn’t nearby when the explosion had shook the market district, though panic spreads quickly, and the aftermath of such an event is impossible to ignore. Even more so for Ardyn, being part of the royal guard — being delegated orders to provide aid and investigate, it is his own curiosities that truly drive him farther into the area to assist. Granted, his form of “assistance” might be lacking compared to those who are rushing to and fro, enveloped in a frantic need of wanting to help. Instead, it’s easier for him remain calm, more unaffected, eyes taking in the area with a sense of detachment that’s perhaps less than appropriate for the situation at hand. If you need to talk to him, he’s easy enough to spot in the crowd. More specifically, a few things that take place are:
A.) An elderly man, a vendor whose wares had been toppled over completely in the explosion, requires help retrieving his goods now strewn all about the street. Textiles and clothing of various colors, one of which seems to hang high up, caught on the corner of a rooftop of a nearby building. It billows, not unlike a flag flying in the breeze. Ardyn cranes his head up to look at it. Then he says, to the person closest to him:]
Be so kind as to retrieve that for me, will you? I’ve already my hands full.
[And so it seems he does, various unravelled yards of cloth hanging over his arm.
B.) There are, of course, looters. As to be expected, people who would take advantage of tragedy for their own benefit, and the ironic part is that Ardyn generally would not care. And yet there are a couple of young men who are being so bold as to do so right in front of him — only down the street, where they appear to be scrounging around another vendor’s (not currently present) property: an array of decorative items, small enough to be thrown into a bag and carried off nonchalantly. Covered in filigree and adorned with precious gems. Certainly possessing high enough market value to sell for a quick profit.
It’s easy enough for Ardyn to close the distance, of course. A flash of magic, sword in his hand, and suddenly he’s warped from where he was standing to directly in front of one of the men — blade pressed up against his throat. The other looter freezes in shock, mid-crouch, in the midst of picking up a shiny bauble to steal.
The smile Ardyn gives them is… amused, but a little disconcerting.]
At least wait until the cover of night like proper thieves.
[If the second man is slowly reaching for a dagger at his hip, there’s zero indication of Ardyn either noticing or caring. What do you do, passerby?]
ii. red light district;
[Now it’s time for an investigation proper, and who says that all manner of secrets and rumors do not eventually make their way to the red light district? This is where you can find Ardyn tonight, skulking through alleyways and hovering near the edges of crowds, sometimes asking around, sometimes not. He is, of course, dressed in plain clothes, a hundred times more subdued than his usual tastes. No guard uniform, no outfit from Eos to turn any heads. Only Ardyn, looking like a commoner, hair tied back. His only indulgence is a maroon scarf, hanging loosely around his neck.
He is absolutely drawn to the sight of individuals speaking in hushed whispers, for often times they are not being as discreet as they believe. This time, it’s two women, huddled in an darkened alleyway, and Ardyn eyes them from where he stands. He catches something about “Wyver”, but will have to draw closer to hear anything more.
Are you a fellow refugee wanting to unravel this mystery further? Join him in figuring out a creative way to move closer without drawing any unwanted attentions. The women do seem to be on the lookout for anyone snooping around. Alternately, he may speak to you first, muttering:]
Just how inconspicuous can you be?
iii. wildcard;
[Open for future threads, or any prompts that you’d prefer to play out if none of these work! I can be found ataurajen to plot further if you’d like!]
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Where? With the aid of my magic, it is simply gone somewhere that only I can access. My own personal space, so to speak, where items can be stored at will.
[He quirks a brow at her, wondering if that's explanation enough.]
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Convenient.
[She nods towards him: there's no need for them to keep talking in front of the two unconscious bodies, is there?]
Have you seen any of the victims of the disease so far?
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And no, there's no need. He can leave them there, though it'd be beneficial for him to eventually move to one of the guard stations, so that he can at least have someone else drag them away.]
I have. Pale and feverish. Body aches and fevers, the lot of them. [He says all this rather casually.]
I wonder if a cure will be found to heal them.
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[But that's the same symptoms she'd heard from others. A pity. She sighs softly.]
But here I'd hoped you might have come across some interesting symptoms.
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[Sickness is sickness, all the same.]
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On the other hand, at least it isn't killing anyone. There's not much of a time pressure.
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[He steps over a few fruit that have fallen out of a barrel in the chaos.]
I'm almost certain than a few less-than-pleasant symptoms will starting cropping up soon enough.
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[You know what, screw this, she's taking his arm; she's going to end up stepping on an apple and tripping and falling and dying, and what a stupid second death that'd be. Hope you wanted to be her guide for the moment, Ardyn.]
At least it'll make things a bit more interesting here. If I'm to play doctor, I'd like to at least try and cure something fascinating.
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But he says nothing. Doesn’t attempt to shake her off, just keeps walking, guiding her along the minefield of apples.]
What? You don’t plan on toiling over a cure out of the kindness of your own heart?
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Mr. Izunia, I realize you've only known me a short time, but can you imagine me ever doing anything purely for the sake of kindness?
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[The look he gives her implies the question, Are you?]
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[It's phrased as a joke, but he clearly does seem vaguely impressed by this admission.]
Not even the smallest tinge of empathy for the ill?
[Even Ardyn felt that once, a long time ago, geez Ros.]
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No.
[She shrugs.]
I don't know most of them, and those that I do will heal soon enough. Why should I waste my time weeping over them?
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[They are past the apples now. He wonders when she'll let go of his arm.]
I'm not saying that you should weep sorrowful tears for them. But I have a feeling you're in the minority. All these people, rushing about, they're all very worried. They feel empathy, a humaneness.
[His turn to shrug.]
Their reasons for healing are different than yours. It's an observation, not a criticism.
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No, but really, she's half-forgotten she's even doing it. It's not that she's so comfortable around him, but how many hours has she spent walking on Robert's arm like this?]
People have a tendency to feel more than I do in general.
But what good will those feelings do them? Some amount of them aren't so bad, but after a certain point, they get in the way. Their worry will turn to fear, and they'll let it command them. They'll panic. And they'll get nothing done, making their problem even worse.
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And so you’re more effective, more productive, with emotion thoroughly nestled out of the way.
[Interesting.]
Have you always been that way? [Or did immortality twist her into something more like what she is right now.]
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And yourself?
[She glances up at him.]
What difference did immortality make on your personality?
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He looks ahead as they walk, as if this question needs considering. In reality, he's already come up with ten different ways to give a not-so-straightforward reply.]
Not as much as you would believe. [This is F A L S E.] I'm older and wiser now. Far more observant, because people are easier to read when you have thousands of years of practice doing so.
My sense of humor hasn't changed one bit, however.
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[His sense of humor is hideous.]
Any deep observations you'd like to impart on the human condition?
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Deep observations? [A wry look as he does glance down at her now.] Mankind is transient and impermanent. Anyone of import eventually dies just like the rest of them, and even the legacy they leave behind becomes lost in the great chasm of time.
Deterioration, degradation. Entropy. You'd appreciate that word.
[Then again, Ardyn was the harbinger of the end of the world, so. Maybe this is fitting.]
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My other half would disagree with that.
[Oh, he most certainly would. Mm, what would Robert say . . .]
He'd say you're discounting the vitality of the human spirit. That yes, everyone dies-- or at least, most everyone--
[#immortallife]
--and while their legacy might be lost, the impact they have on the world may still be felt thousands of years later, for better or worse. And he'd certainly take issue with the words you chose; it's only a society that doesn't strive to go forward that deteriorates or degrades.
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Now, to believe such a thing is too... empathetic for him. Apathy strains his soul, makes it difficult for him to care one way or another even if this is the case.
It should be a small revelation for him, that he's been two different people in his lifetime. But Ardyn is already aware of that.]
Your other half was a very optimistic person. Did he find himself very disappointed?
[You know, when things didn't turn out that way.]
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[They can philosophize as much as they want, yet Ardyn is quick to skew the subject in a different direction altogether.]
Tell me more about this other half of yours.
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