❪ event ❫ THE DESCENT: PART ONE.

[natha]

THE PROLOGUE     Your sleep on the night of the 15th is not a restful one, unfortunately. It’s unclear whether you are in a state of half-wakefulness, or dreaming. The voices you hear certainly sound very real. What is it, Sael? —Is everyone asleep?! Every one, yes. Sael, it appears you do not have good news to deliver...? N-No! I don’t know how it slipped past us, but there’s something powerful coming this way. Something hostile. I can barely keep the core systems online! ... I don't know what to do... I see... and we cannot protect Thesa and Alria in addition to transferring the Refugees to Olympia. This force, they waited for this moment. They knew I have been Intervening, and that I have become weak from such Interventions— ... We've been had. It cannot be helped. To save the Refugees on the Stations, we must eject the awoken unto El Nysa. My remaining energy shall go into shielding Thesa— left defenseless, every being we have saved on this station will perish... Sael, where is the ideal location for the landing? Hmm. There aren’t any people within a ten mile radius of The Outlook, and there shouldn’t be any for a few more days. I think that’s the best location right now. Very well. Instruct Zasere and Roman to begin preparations for an emergency eject. This is the only way we can save everyone. I am counting on you to ward off the enemy on the space front. The rest... is up to our Refugees. The alarms are blaring. It shouts against your eardrums, calling you to wake again. This time, you are in new pod, strapped down completely and cushioned tightly against the walls. In truth, you had no idea when you’d gone to sleep, but it is reminiscent of when you had been saved from the force of the Storm. A voice greets you when you come to, while the conversation between Darma and Sael is still fresh on your mind. Despite their voices playing like an old tune in your memory, you still know it is something that happened. Something has gone terribly wrong. You hear Darma speak, her voice loud in your head. Fellow Refugee, I wake you with regrettable news. A force equal to our own is attempting to engage Thesa, no doubt to steal the souls contained here. My energy is near depleted with this last Intervention, so I cannot send you to the grounds safely as originally intended. However, there is hope yet.This power shall instead shield Thesa and Alria — and believe in me when I swear no one shall be hurt. Your loved ones are safe with us. —Unfortunately, that is at your expense. Your descent will not be an easy one. This pod that contains you shall pierce through El Nysa's atmosphere and land you on an island west of Olympia, simply called The Outlook. Travel east. Find the West Outpost, then continue east until you find the Olympian North Gate. There is a method to this madness. You shall be sent in waves. The inhumanly strong shall be first. The parachute will soften the landing, but I am aware of all your capabilities. The first wave will survive the drop, and will work tirelessly to secure the others. Find your bearings, and ensure the safety of the second wave. They are the healers and medics. Catch their pods, ease their landings, make certain that they shall not be harmed, because you will need them for your wounds. The third wave are your strongmen. They shall help clear the debris and take people to safety, making way for the fourth wave, those can conjure magic to help. Bring everyone to a safe distance. A supply drop will follow soon after; it shall contain tents and tools that will be useful for the long night. The fifth and sixth waves are largely vulnerable humans. With your combined efforts, you shall survive this great misfortune. Forgive us, Refugee. Leave the Moons to us, my promise to you is still in tact— focus on what you can do for others like you. Helping at least two (2) Refugees will earn you one (1) Natha REP. Threads must be AC length to qualify, and can be submitted HERE by JULY 31st. THE DESCENT     FIRST WAVE. The instructions are clear. Those who are a part of the First Wave should be equipped with physical strength and fortitude to survive the drop or the power to regenerate and heal their own wounds. While the pods are already designed to cushion some of the impact, as this is the first group, it will likely to be the most jarring. In all of the waves, some of the pods will malfunction and offer no cushion at all. They will be expected to quickly find their bearings. Their mission isn’t simply just landing, after all. The first wave will be expected to help the next wave, and the wave after that. Whether through their abilities or brute strength, they will be expected to help soften the landing for those who are falling. They will also be expected to pry open hatches, carry people to safety, and to just... survive. It’s not always easy being first. SECOND WAVE. Within the next hour, it’s time for the Second Wave to make their descent. You were selected based upon your aptitude for healing and/or being able to administer first aid. Perhaps you can help the tired and weary. Maybe those who have landed have have strength, but no stamina. Either way, it may be unwise to exhaust all their abilities at once. The night is long, and you may want to conserve their energy for the next waves to come. At least you’ll have help in getting settled. THIRD WAVE. Akin to the First Wave, the Third Wave will possess some durability, and some manner of strength, making you a reliable ally. Especially in a time of crisis... Or so we hope. While the landing is tough, and some of you may need first aid. As soon as you’re all healed up, you’ll have no time to dawdle. Your help is required. “Please help those still trapped in pods. Carry those unconscious to safety. Lift debris, and rescue all you can.” May be a vague message still stuck in the back of your head. Something whispered to you while you were just waking. Well, might as well roll with it. It’s the best shot you have, after all. FOURTH WAVE. Those in the Fourth Wave, as Darma projects, were selected due to the versatility of their abilities. No one expects one man to do the same as the next. Rather, that’s precisely the point: to be different. To be able to accomplish something unique. While one individual may be blessed with powers that assist in putting out fires, another may have the ability to shield those from oncoming debris. Maybe one even has the ability to channel all of these. Regardless, it’s up to you and your quick wits to see what tasks are open. It’ll take some coordination, especially as there are more people mixing into the fray, but, you can do it, can’t you? FIFTH WAVE. If you are in the Fifth Wave it is likely that you have a specific power or ability. One that isn’t easily channeled or called upon. Or, perhaps, you were merely placed here for insurance. Whatever the case if, your expertise will presently be put to the test. Maybe you’re quite proficient in survival skills, and you’re already eyeing the supplies that were dropped between the Fourth Wave and now. Goods all ready to be salvaged. Okay, maybe some can’t, but as they say, “it’s the thought that counts.” Besides, the injured from earlier certainly need a space to rest, and camp isn’t going to make itself. Regardless, maybe you feel more comfortable joining in the efforts to assist those who still require it. Whatever it is, you are sure to find your place and use. Darma obviously held the same faith. FINAL WAVE. The Final Wave is fortunate in a variety of ways. With Thesa Station a bit more stabilized, Darma utilizes the last bit of her powers in insuring that these last remaining pods are met with the softest landing, right beside the fifth, that is. The fragility of life is nothing she is unfamiliar with, after all. Still, that isn’t to say nothing is expected of you. Most of the individuals that have dropped earlier will likely be exhausted. An hour stretched between each one, makes several hours for the first couple of waves. They'll need a place to relax. You will act as the final group of helpers. Settle into whatever role feels best for you. Are you an excellent cook? Great at rationing supplies? Perhaps, you have a secret skill in ______ that might come in handy here? Or, maybe, despite the gentler landing you still managed to get hurt. The sky's the limit, and you got this! Meanwhile, in the distant kingdom of Olympia, the Empress and her loyal subject discuss matters late into the night... I’ll have the results of that dragon toxin study ready for you soon, Your Highness. I just need a few helpers to— oh wow, is that a meteor shower? Oh yes, it appears so. How beautiful.. hehe. Let us thank Thesa for this blessing. GATHER YOUR BEARINGS     All in all, the descent lasts for nearly seven hours. After the deployment of the last wave of refugees, it’s only natural that you may be feeling pretty worn out. A. Within the remains of the pods, Refugees will find basic camping supplies such as small tents, sleeping bags, and compasses. Not all of the supplies remain intact, thanks to the impact of the crash. But, sharing resources will ensure there is enough for everyone to rest for the night. Can you really in good conscience leave that stranger next to you without shelter? B. Although you may be tired after such a life-threatening ordeal, there is still work to be done to ensure your survival. Fortunately, it works out because now there are plenty of empty hands. There are stray debris and metal parts that should be collected and disposed of. There's firewood that needs to be collected, and campfires to upkeep. The nights in the Outlook are particularly chilly, and so it will be imperative to keep warm! C. Your clothes are tattered or too bloodied to sleep on with comfortably. Fortunately, Darma thought ahead. There will be various types of clothing provided, mostly robes that resemble her own in earthy tones, all to help them camouflage you for your next big adventure. FINAL OOC NOTE     This INTRO event will be broken up into three parts! Please keep this in mind when plotting your threads/tag load. PART 2 will be posted on JULY 18TH and PART 3 on JULY 22ND, at 6 PM EST. In the event of CAPTCHA, we will be providing an overflow. In the event of a second CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP. The NETWORK is currently down, as Sael must concentrate all of his efforts on warding off the invading force. Characters may still message each other's personal IC inboxes. Submit two (2) AC-eligible threads from this log for one (1) Natha Orbiter REP point here by JULY 31ST. Recommended Listening: Alex & TOKYO Rose QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● world ● map ● reputation ● npcs taken ● reserves ● application calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

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ardyn izunia (third wave)

[daemonized]

I. THE FALL

[The descent of his own pod had shaken his body to the core, groaning as it entered the planet’s atmosphere — and yet Ardyn did not feel fear nor anxiety; only very distinctly the feeling of dropping, and that such a notion would always be punctuated and finalized with an impact. An impact that is softened by the help of another, somehow, the blasted container he was in shuddering to a sudden halt, jerking him forward. Within his pod, all he can be bothered to do is scoff, hand pressed against the smooth interior of his encasement.

Whether or not he’s aided to exit his pod, he steps out with little fanfare. There are more still falling from the sky above, like meteors hanging over their heads, and he cranes his neck up to watch several more careen towards the earthen ground proper, looking slow and languid from such a far distance.

If you had just aided him out of his pod, or perhaps you were just nearby, the man offers a remark — airy, perhaps a bit supercilious.]

A most inelegant sort of arrival. I wonder how many won't survive it.

II. “HELPING"

A)
[There’s a knocking on your pod, the light rapping of knuckles to catch your attention. Ardyn has been delegated to help those stuck in their pods, by whatever mean necessary — perhaps that means helping dislodge one, caught at a strange angle and unable to open. Maybe it means only offering a sturdy hand to exit on wobbly legs and feet.

Either way, never let it be said that Ardyn’s idea of aid isn't somewhat questionable. Peering at you, your poor person stuck in your pod, the smile on his face is sharp and a little patronizing. But he’s here to help, he really is.]

Wake up in there. [His voice is muffled from the other side, though it’s obvious there’s undue levity in his words, a strange lilt that seems out of place.] Still alive, I hope?

B)
[He’s found one that’s gone unconscious, carrying them across his shoulder much like one would a sack of potatoes. Ardyn moves with a steady step, his gait not to eager as he traverses across grassy plain to find the nearest campsite. He isn’t concerned about the state of the refugee’s consciouness, and probably won’t even after he drops them off at his destination.

That, of course, doesn’t guarantee that they won’t wake up in the midst of this trek. Maybe that refugee is you. If it is, one can only hope you enjoy the feeling of being slung over a tall man’s shoulder, not unlike a rag doll.]

No squirming. [-he says sensing consciousness arise in the poor soul he’s “helping”.] We’re almost there.

III. CAMPFIRE

[The campfire finally blazes, having been fed with enough firewood to last for a bit longer. Ardyn sits next to it, letting the sensation of heat (a far away feeling, but noticeable nonetheless) wash over him. He brings a finger up to tug and adjust at his scarf, loosening it around his neck.

The wind picks up, chill biting through clothing. He doesn’t seem terribly affected, and as someone nears, he says,]

The fire’s blazing now, if you care to sit.

IV. WILDCARD

[If you have something else you’d like to do, don’t hesitate! You can also ping me at aurajen if you’d like to plot something specific out!]

II - A.

[ladya]

[ Having fallen asleep to the sound of wind at high velocity rushing down around her pummeling, encased body, she is awoken by a familiar voice, tones that she's been familiar with for years. Registering who the very likely identity of said person within her mind, Aranea may not be a sleeping dragoon anymore, but she doesn't open her eyes just yet.

Gods damn it.

When she finally looks right smack dab at Ardyn, her expression is actually completely neutral. Aranea's already thought this approach out, having seen her former boss's comatose expression in the stasis pods before. Seems their situation changed quickly around these parts. ]

Alive and kicking. [ Her hand reaches to push open the door, but the thing appears to be jammed. ] And I'll be screaming soon if you don't open this now, chancellor.

[daemonized]

[His grin becomes something unmistakably sharp, and this will be the expression that greets her as she opens her eyes to look at him. He’s unmoving for a lengthy moment, and Aranea should know it’s because that mind of his is thinking, churning. It doesn’t show on his face, but she’s known him long enough to know that’s simply how he is.

Chancellor, was it? He wonders how purposefully dropped that title might’ve been.

Still, no point in letting her get to the point of screaming to be let out; while that might be interesting to watch, something amusing to laugh at, Ardyn’s curiosity motivates him more than his cruelty or apathy. The door’s jammed, creaking and crying foul as she tries to open it more than a few inches.]

Now, there’s certainly no need for that.

[A chuckle, low and probably frustrating.]

If I let you out, you have to promise to be on good behavior.

[ladya]

[ If she ends up actually screaming, there will most certainly be a reason other than being stuck in this pod, without the ability to carry out her given task. While Aranea does bear a demeanor that she'll allow few to penetrate, it remains difficult for her not to bare her teeth and reach right for his jugular, here and now. The struggle not to fight back is becoming palpable and difficult to resist, but her mind knows that acting on these emotions, at least for now, would be the very definition of pointless. ]

I'll do my job. [ Aranea blandly states. ] Which, for now, is carrying out the Natha's very nicely stated orders.

III

[burglarize]

[ Hey, I hope your shitty scarf is keeping you warm.

Ann was glad she at least had a jacket to zip up and at least someone got a fire going. Ann was tapped out — at the time, she didn't want to summon Carmen (after she realized she didn't need to play girl scout and start a fire from scratch when her Persona can summon it), so she relaxes a bit. She flops down onto the ground and looks at the opened can of beans she has. ]

Can I just throw this in and heat them up? [ It sounds so dumb, but — ] Do you know if any cookware survived the plunge?

[daemonized]

[Hey, you can't judge his clothes already, get out.

Ardyn glances over as Ann sits nearby, eying the opened can of beans with a distanced kind of curiosity. He shrugs, the offered grin of his amicable enough.]

I don't see why not. The issue would be getting it out of the fire afterwards. You might want to find yourself a pair of pliers to safely remove it from the flames.

[Unless she wants to burn herself. He chuckles, but it's low and lost in the crackling of the fire.]

I saw a few things here and there, salvaged and set aside. You'll be needing a spoon-- [He waves a hand at a makeshift area nearby, where some supplies have been delegated for now.]

And I know there's eating utensils in there.

[burglarize]

I doubt someone thought to pack pliers among the endless supplies of food and provisions for the drop. Unless there's an repairman wave I'm missing.

[ She's honestly a bit sassy, but she's tired. Her tone drops afterwards as she rolls the can between her fingers. ]

Oh, phew. I thought we'd have to use twigs and leaves or something!

[ She's up and scurrying away briefly before returning with a small pot and some plastic futuristic (???) forks. It's not skillful, but she does start prepping some. ]

What wave did you come in on?

I

[luxuriant]

You're telling me.

[Zelos has stopped to help him out, though he drops his hand if Ardyn seems to climb out without much effort. Frowning at the guy, and then up at the sky, he pauses for a second before sighing.]

At least yours didn't get stuck. What's with the gloomy entrance, anyway? You're alive, aren't you? Come on, you got any injuries under all that clothing?

[For emphasis, and in an attempt to distract the conversation away from gloomy topics like death, he swats at the back of Ardyn's scarf as he moves around him to take a look. He's a designated healer, this is what he's gotta do! Definitely.]

[daemonized]

Was it not grand enough for you? [His entrance, is his meaning.] The next time, I'll be certain to do away with the gloom, and make it much more entertaining.

[He feels that swat at his scarf, and Ardyn turns on the heel of his shoe, facing Zelos properly as the man walks around in to take in his physical state.]

A little sore from the landing, but nothing I'll not recover from quickly enough. Nothing to warrant such a critical eye in my direction, at any rate.

1

[popess]

[ Makoto hadn't been out of her own pod for long — no more than ten minutes or so, but she couldn't be sure because of her awe once she managed to make her way out. the fall of the pods was mesmerizing, like watching god's work right before her eyes.

she would thank ardyn for shaking her out of that, but his comment leaves her with a tinge of unrest. ]

Why would you say something like that? We're going to do our best to save everyone.

[ there's a hint of annoyance to her voice, but also a layer of anxiety — a thought like that was probably on most everyone's mind as they plummeted from space, their pods slowly burning from the sheer velocity. ]

[daemonized]

[His gaze detaches from the pods falling to look down at Makoto, who stands next to him. There's a shrug of his shoulders, laughably lackadaisical for a man as imposing in size as Ardyn, and he motions up at the sky hanging over them -- a wave of a wrist, almost dismissive.]

The two are not mutually exclusive, are they?

[Doing one's best and people not dying were notions that did not always run parallel with each other.]

Look at how fast they fall, and what force they're met with on the ground. All it takes is a malfunction, or a stroke of bad luck, and some of the more fragile among us may be met with serious injury. Or death.

ii - b

[valcurie]

( Although she did bang her head quite hard on impact, when she starts to come around and has enough wits to puzzle out what's happening--she's not flying, and she's not having a vivid hallucination--Mercy is able to be somewhat professional.

For the moment she lays still. Shifting doesn't avail her anything, and anyway she's saving her energy to recuperate. Which, thanks to her suit, shouldn't be much longer. )

Did you check me for concussion before moving me?

[daemonized]

No.

[Well, at least he's honest.

Except that honesty doesn't seem to be coupled with even the smallest hint of guilt. It isn't as if he's proud that he neglected to check for further injuries, but Ardyn sounds rather dismissive in general.

He keeps walking with the woman in tow.]

Do you feel as if you have one?

ii a.

[buraiha]

[ falling out of the sky in a metal pod was, and still is, new. being jostled around like a pinball in said pod is definitely an experience that oda didn't feel like repeating (even though the drawback of being able to involuntarily see the future is, you end up experiencing once-in-a-lifetime events twice whether you'd like to or not). so by the time he felt the thing skid against the ground, jam itself against a rockface and give him a somewhat substantial headache, oda was very ready to be out of the pod and back on (hopefully) solid ground.

as usual, the universe doesn't give a shit about what he wants. which, he thinks, rather philosophically, is comforting in the sense that some things just don't change. the jammed door makes a whining sort of sound, but otherwise doesn't budge. the sound of a voice, then, is welcome, even as oda has to pause for a moment to make sure it wasn't all in his head. ]

Yeah, I am. Been making a habit of it recently. [ for better or for worse, oda's not sure yet. he hadn't been dead for very long, but it hadn't been such a bad thing. he pauses for a moment, thoughtful. ] Wanna help give the door a kick?

[daemonized]

[The pod door is still hissing, as if something in its programming keeps telling it try to open its door again and again. As a result, the noise is stuck on a loop, threatening to drown out the sound of Oda's voice. Thankfully, Ardyn is clever enough to parse the obvious, and still can hear him well enough. The man wants out. Just like the rest of them.]

A kick specifically?

[A question meant more to cajole than anything else. But Ardyn wastes no time waiting for a response.

He lashes out with a heel of a boot, catching at the hatch which had already been semi-dislodged. The sound probably rings loud from within the pod, force vibrating throughout. The door hisses again, a little more fervently this time.

Promising, maybe?]

III

[fisherwife]

[It feels strange to be tired, but in a good way. It's been at least a hundred years since she's felt her muscles burn and that sense of working hard, a job well done.

The chill hardly gets to her as well, she'd been approaching more to see if he needed anything himself, but the--offer? It was sort of an offer?-- makes her pause.]

Ah. [She hesitates a little and then smiles lightly] Are you sure it's alright? [She'd run into an unfortunate tendency of suspicion towards her here lately, being so obviously non-human. She doesn't blame them in the slightest, but... Well, Ardyn hadn't appeared to look at her either so she's giving him a chance to get the alarm and/or rejection out of the way first.]

[daemonized]

[There's something about Ardyn that feels tired, as well. A deep gnawing in the very marrow of his bones, something having rested there for many, many years prior. And yet none of this reflects on his face, which flickers occasionally with dark shadows, dancing with each movement the fire makes; instead, he only looks strangely relaxed, especially for a man who's been prying open pods all day.

He lifts his gaze to view the source of the voice, wondering at her hesitation. What he sees is unexpected, but not even close enough to make him feel shock. A girl -- he supposes -- of a race unlike any he's ever seen. Perhaps if he were back on Eos, this would require more questioning. But considering all that's happened to him recently, it only barely registers as an oddity.]

This campfire exists to warm more than one person. Far be it from me to tear it away from its purpose.

[In other words, yes. It's fine.]

campfire!

[frizziest]

[ thanks for the invite, sir!

Akira will do just that, plopping himself down on a spot near the fire opposite of Ardyn. he's since made his Phantom Thief attire dissipate now that they are all some form of settled, clad in a hoodie that is pulled tight around his head to keep the wind chill at a minimum. he notices how the other man plays with his scarf and decides to comment on it as a way of striking up an actual conversation. ]

Doesn't loosening it make you more susceptible to the cold?

[daemonized]

[Ardyn only fiddles with his scarf more, as if to accentuate the oddity of what Akira's just pointed out. He looks over the young man briefly, assessing something unspoken.]

It likely does. [-comes the somewhat cryptic answer, and growing more and more unsatisfied by how it hangs around his neck, Ardyn removes it completely, shaking out any folds he's grown dissatisfied with.]

But I'm more resilient than most, especially against trivial things like the biting cold. I'd much rather this to hang around my neck in a comfortable fashion.

campfire?? for as long as that lasts.

[noctsout]

[ okay in like what world would he approach the only person that could possibly wear that shade of pink for hair coupled with that scarf

And in what world would he just ignore it? There's too much exhaustion in him to be left wanting for a confrontation that he might not (will not) be able to win, but there's too much (weight of his memories, the words of Bahamut still ringing in his ears, the grief and guilt of losing Eos) of everything else that's just happened to have him walk away as per the direction of his sanity. And possibly? His maturity. But there's only so much that could deserve forgiveness or even consideration, and Ardyn's sins were too long of a list to deserve even a fraction of it.

Understanding? Yeah, maybe. Sympathy? Possibly. But those were graces that would have come after a long, long time of rumination, and right now, Noct has an armful of firewood that he'd like nothing but to use as conduits for multiple warpstrikes to be laid against that head. Give him points for refraining at least, his fingers creaking splinters into the wood that he has cradled against his chest. ]

... Yeah. You're gonna have to give me a pass on that.

[ Care to turn around, Chancellor Useless? ]

campfire prompt masquerading as pain

[daemonized]

[That voice. He knows it.

Ardyn is unmoving for a second or two, and the only thing that betrays he even heard Noctis speak is the way his fingers clench tightly around his scarf as he had moved to adjust it again. The other young man can't see it, of course, not from this angle -- for all he might assume, Ardyn is actually ignoring him.

Far be it from that being the case.

He drops his hand, and immediately he feels it swell within him -- that whirlwind of emotion that he had just managed to press down and neatly pack away, for the sake of a quiet moment in front of the fire. How easily Noctis' words pick all of that apart, and suddenly he's met with that swirling frustration and anger and spite and tiredness that he carries within him, brought to the forefront at the promise of being met with the Chosen King.

Ardyn actually lets out a laugh, low and undeterminable, before he stands to his feet. All six-foot-three of him, as if he were a shadow unfolding to its full height, cast stark against the light of the bonfire.]

Well, if it isn't Noctis.

[He's so sure of it, that when he turns around, meeting the boy face-to-face, he makes certain to greet him with a wide grin.

What he sees, of course, only proves to flare that anger up further. It was him, certainly -- Noctis Lucis Caelum, the one destined to fell him once darkness had descended upon Eos. The one whom he had waited for, for so long, to finally put an end to it all. But it was the wrong him. There would be no power overflowing from this King. Still all too young, still far too irritated to see him; look at the way he was clenching at that firewood, as if he was going to break them all in two, just upon laying eyes on him.

This shouldn't come as a surprise to Ardyn, not really. He had already stumbled across Prompto earlier, having seen that the boy was younger than he remembered as well. But Prompto was disposable, unimportant. Noctis, however, had been a key figure in his plans, and though these machinations had been laid to waste so swiftly by the Storm, there's something about seeing walking proof of his work undone, glaring at him like that, that really gets under his skin.

And so his words are practically spat out, despite himself. He opens his arms wide in a mocking gesture.]

Did you miss me?

III

[earthy]

[Terra's on his way past when he hears the older man speak. He almost doesn't stop, assuming the words are for someone, anyone else, but a brief glance at the guy sitting by the fire changes his mind -- if not about who the offer is for, at least about walking off.

He stops and, after a moment of deliberation, turns and steps a little closer to the fire. Close enough to feel some of its heat through the thinner sections of his armor and on his face, now half-exposed thanks to a flying chunk of debris taking out part of his helmet.

The flames dance in the segments of dark glass that adorn his protective suit, a splash of orange and yellow and white on his hips and shoulders, across the vambrace on his left arm and what's left of his shattered visor. Most of his cape burnt away in the fires hours ago, but a piece of it still flags out pitifully behind him and then off to one side, when the wind shifts.]

I heard what you said before.

[Why he stopped. Not for the fire, for the warmth, and most especially not for the light, but for the stranger.]

Thought you should know everyone survived.

[It's a quiet little comment, meant only to be reassurance, encouragement. Because this man must have said what he did out of despair, a loss of hope in the face of all the madness people were stepping out of their pods into.

And for all that he's not feeling especially optimistic right now himself, he'd at least see others take heart.]

Ah... [Except then he realizes something. He checks his grip on the large, key-shaped blade he's got slung over his shoulder and turns his tired gaze from the fire to... that nice patch of dirt right in front of him. Gee, that's some swell dirt.] I mean, if you hadn't noticed already... that everyone survived, you should know...

[daemonized]

[He looks up at the other when he speaks, eying him idly through his half-shattered mask. He cannot stop the way his brow arches, parsing the man's meaning.

Was he offering him reassurance? Did he think that he was some bleeding heart, standing there, having watched the other pods free fall from the sky, worry nagging at him? That was far from the truth, for there are too many instances where Ardyn is fueled by little more than an detached sort of apathy, sometimes lined with amusement. He had not been worried, no more than one worries about the way dead leaves fall from a tree.

But, he'll not go out of his way to correct Terra. He simply raises a hand and gestures at an open space across the fire.]

And you look as if you've played a large part in that, have you not? Sit and rest your bones for a while. If what you say is true, then you deserve at least that much.

ii-a.

[pappio]

[ Consciousness comes on like the strokes of a dream. Vicious and ensnaring and impressibly deep, striking him awake at the first seizing jolt of pain that sets off in his arm, traversing down the rest of his limbs, sore from the tumultuous landing. Gladio's always been easy to stir, far too keyed-up weaning off the languor that sleep naturally coaxes on — he's awake long before someone's taken to rapping at the pod, and thereby wholly entitled to the bounty of a sick, coursing anger that splits mad and mean in him when that voice enters his awareness.

Same one, after all this time. Same damn thing he'd heard in Zegnautus Keep, the Crystal dormant and cold, Ardyn chiming his retort (struck like a bell, his face cleaved and spine riddled holes to no avail) with a detestable brightness. So he'll give the jackass that, the open bribe (flagrant taunt) to rouse him the rest of the way through, pull him out of his stupor and into fully fleshed-out vitriol.

Eyes closed, it's fitting that the very first thing that enters his vision upon opening them is the indisputable likeness of the Niflheim Chancellor as he'd been previously, trapped and slumbering behind the stasis pods. Well, shit. Irascibility kills his breath, but even caught largely aware, muscle memory's still on his side. It's all reflexive, the simple act of testing his hands, the pull of tendons and ligaments, clenching a fist to crumple tight around his knuckles. ]

Dunno'. Can't tell. Must be hell, if it's with you.

[ His voice carries flatly, no heat in his inflection for all the vehement recourse in him. Gladio's far from resigned to biding his time, though, so it's with stilted ease that he tries the door (jammed). Alright, okay. There are other options here. The weight of the Genji blade is a familiar one, Cor's and Gilgamesh's blessings alike stolen into the blade, so don't mind Gladio yanking it up to smash it, hilt and all, into the lookout window, thereby shattering it in a ripple of shimmering glass. If Ardyn gets fatally punctured in the process, frankly, that's not his problem. ]

[daemonized]

[Recognition dawns on him as easily at it had the other; the man's face twists with the dawning of familiarity, and Ardyn greets him with a smile that's paper thin. There's no good will behind it, despite his implied offer to help the man out of his pod by merely being here -- as far as anyone else is concerned, maybe he's just here to gloat. Those from Eos certainly wouldn't surprised if that were the case.

But instinct takes hold of the other, before Ardyn can even open that mouth of his to speak. There's a flash of movement, the sight of of a blade's hilt smashing into the glass, sending shards flying. He hadn't even retracted his hand, knuckles only inches away as it the viewport spiderwebs out and sharp edges cut against skin. A straight line across the back of three fingers, just above the edges of those stupid fingerless gloves of his.

It bleeds, but not red. Something viscous and black, though not very visible once Ardyn steps back and shakes out his wrist, as if the pain were little more than an annoyance. His expression barely changes -- after all, he takes some pleasure in riling up others in this way. Sadism has always been one of his less than flattering traits, even if he's the one now sporting a minor injury. (One that's already healing, even as he speaks, clicking his tongue in disapproval.)]

I take it you won't be needing any help, then?

[All patronization, all the time.]