Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
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year 5, quarter 3
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Alexander stared at the outside of the clinic, fully armed, fully armored, wondering if this was really a good idea. To go through with this would be tantamount to declaring war on the Dragonblades. But, that was irrelevant. Caius would make his move first, and he'd rather go on the offensive than the defensive. That was what Ethelbert would have done. It worked out until he died. Damn you, Elidibus. He took another step, brushing his fingers against the door, closing his eyes in solemn thought as he briefly wondered about turning back for a moment. "I've put this off long enough. I'll just deal with Dragelion later." He resolved. He took a deep breath. Inhale, exhale, and then with the squeal of a pig as he cast Bristle, he slammed his foot against the door. It gave. Right off the hinges. And the panic on the patients and staff inside was palpable as he stormed in, sword drawn and ready for battle.
His eyes blazed with fury. "I will see Shiva dealt with! One way or--" He stopped as he actually took a moment to scan his surroundings. He recognized no one here. He took a moment to ask about Yuna, and where she was. And that was how he learned this was not Yuna's clinic. And that he didn't actually know where it was. Fuck. He sheepishly apologized. Originally the guards were going to get involved, but one of the staff recognized him as "the poor homeless drunk" and well, it beat going to gaol, so he just kept his mouth shut. So he spent more time, after helping put the door back on that is and they'd agreed to let it slide once, and eventually he came to what he thought was Yuna's clinic. Really her clinic this time. He checked. Really made sure.
He placed his foot against the door, and realized he didn't want to potentially be wrong again, so he lowered it. Instead, he, surprisingly, and gingerly, opened the door quietly as he peeked his head in. "Yuna?" He said before he let himself in. Was she out? He slipped inside, closing the door behind him as he began to wander just a little. He was greeted at the desk, and overheard discussions about some poor man, blinded, in horrid shape, and suffering from night terrors. Alex stopped for a moment and wondered. It'd been some time, and, well, it'd make sense for Dragelion to send them all here... had Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis seriously been in Provo this entire time? The description fit. With how distressed the others had been that Ignis wasn't waking up, Alex had, for once, the empathy to realize that telling them it was an actual miracle Ignis wasn't dead in that state, was not a good idea.
His thoughts went back to that night, of the utter disaster it'd been, how he'd treated everyone, and it made him want to crawl into a hole. It also made him want to see Ignis. At least for some peace, to know some good came out of it. He approached the clerk. "Are... are they talking about Ignis?"
The clerk frowned. "I'm sorry, sir. But Provo's Health Insurance Portability--"
"I'm his husband." Alex cut them off and lied as easily as he breathed. Would this haunt him later? Probably. But things with this entire group was already in the shitter, what did it matter at this point? The sheer, brazen casualness and confidence of the statement had the clerk make an "o" expression, and whatever law they'd been talking about was promptly ignored as he got his confirmation and was ushered in after handing over his sword and giving his name--he gave Richard Ethelbert. It wasn't a lie. Past lives counted, right? It did not occur to Alex that there'd been about three felonies committed in only a couple minutes.
They were about to announce him, he shook his head, asked if there were any precautions, and quietly went inside when told no. He sat down and looked at Ignis. He looked awful. "Hey. You." He remarked awkwardly. "You're finally awake." He stated the obvious.
Post by Ignis Scientia on May 18, 2024 16:20:34 GMT -6
It's been a long time since I've felt peace in my mind. But there on the horizon, I can see the light.
How long had it been since he’d been confined to his space?
Ignis decided, after he’d recovered enough to be able to spend as much time awake as he did resting, that being trapped in a hospital bed wasn’t too far removed from how he felt being in his cell in prison. He had left his bed enough times, and fallen, while still too weak that they’d attached a sensor to him, to let staff know if he was getting up when he wasn’t supposed to. The space he had access to was quite small, including a bedside table he’d become quite familiar with as it kept his cup of water. The one with the lid and straw. Because he couldn’t be trusted to drink out of a normal cup like an adult.
Not with his grip being too weak to hold it for more than a few seconds.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, now that it hurt much less to do so, Scientia forced himself to let go of the frustration. He understood, of course, that this was a part of the journey. He wasn’t just physically injured while in the Gulag with Gladio, but extremely malnourished, mentally and psychologically abused, and exposed to the harsh elements. Healing magic could only go so far. Ignis took a breath and released it slowly, urging the need to move out of his mind for now.
If he wanted to be by Noctis’s side once more, he needed to do as the professionals told him to do, and fully recover. As difficult as it was to do so. His body was definitely still complaining with minute movements, and being awake for too long led to extreme exhaustion. He was still having night terrors and fitful sleep, from what the nurses had told him as well. Despite feeling like he’d been recovering for a long time, in reality, it hadn’t been much time at all … had it?
Ignis blinked a blind eye to the ceiling. Without his sight, killing time in the silence was difficult. He couldn’t read a book, nor write details of his adventure. No, his only escape was into the recesses of his mind, and typically those ventures didn’t lead anywhere pleasant, despite his urging.
The clinic was typically fairly quiet, and for the most part, Iggy only ever picked up some hushed conversations between staff members. He took some interest when hearing a voice he had never heard prior, masculine and insistent, that had used his name. Blearily, the retainer tried to place the voice, but didn’t believe it was one he’d ever heard before.
A voice that suddenly insisted it was his husband. Ignis rose an eyebrow to himself, his lips turned down in a thoughtful frown. Well, someone was rather presumptuous and desperately wanted to see him enough to make quite the lie. He would have laughed, if it weren’t so concerning. Instead, a hard lump formed in his throat as his mind swiftly searched for reasons anyone would come up with such a tall tale.
Was the man from Sonora, looking to drag him back and have him punished for his crimes? An assassin, maybe? The Warden hadn’t survived, he was sure he’d heard the man perish…
Ignis’s hand trembled. He wasn’t strong enough to fight anyone in this state. He could summon a weapon, but wielding one for more than a few seconds was out of the question.
Was Gladio okay? Noctis, Prompto?
The door was opened, and any further time for planning was gone. The only solace Ignis could take was that he truly looked like a man that had courted death, or so the nurses told him. Perhaps, if the stranger was there for nefarious reasons, it would give him pause. The man commented that Ignis was finally awake – as if he’d been around to check prior to this. “For better or worse,” Ignis commented honestly, his voice hoarse and graveley. He stayed still in the bed, propped up by only a few pillows in a semi-sitting-up position as he considered the stranger for a moment. When he took his next deep breath, he ignored the ache it brought to his chest, “And to whom do I owe the pleasure? I'm afraid I'm not much for company in my current state.”
For better or worse. Yeah, he could see the worse, if he were being honest. And things became very awkward very quickly. He quickly realized that there hadn't been much of a plan in place. Maybe this was what Prompto as talking about. Dashing in before thinking. Always worked really well in a fight, but, now. Well. Alex didn't say anything at first. Rather, he looked at the pile on the floor. What was all that about? It looked like it'd been put together by some kind of... ferret like creature or something. Seriously, that just confused him, and it was only when Ignis finally spoke up that he finally snapped away from the odd pile. Right, the Ferret Pile could be dealt with later, this was more important.
Ignis asked for his name, and Alex pressed his fingers to his chest, giving a haughty snort. "Me? Well, I'm so glad you asked. I'm Caius Dragelion, Lord and Savior of this Star, and I..." He put on his best Caius impression. Unlike most of his impressions, the actual voice was spot on. Disturbingly so. However, his voiced trailed off and his shoulders slumped. It didn't matter. None of it did. "I really don't have the energy for this." He said in his own voice. "I'm just one of the ones that helped get you out of that nightmare." He let out an exhale as he leaned back. After everything, he really didn't have it in him to be his usual antagonistic self. At least not for the moment, give him time.
He looked over Ignis again, his lips thinning. "I'm really sorry." He began simply. There was no other way to put it. "We tried to get to you as quickly as we could. I just wish we'd gotten there before you went through..." He gestured vaguely. "All this." He looked away, staring at the Ferret Pile on the floor. "As it was I didn't have the heart to tell Noct and Prompto on the way out that you should have been long dead. And I'm sure everyone and their mother's already told you that it's a miracle you're even alive so I won't repeat that." He sighed. "Go on. I know the next question you're going to ask." He didn't. Probably. But he could make a guess, at least.
Post by Ignis Scientia on Aug 14, 2024 17:53:22 GMT -6
It's been a long time since I've felt peace in my mind. But there on the horizon, I can see the light.
Ignis could only raise his one-well-functioning eyebrow at Alex’s ridiculous impression of Mr. Dragelion. Well, ridiculous in the act, perhaps, but the voice was shockingly more spot-on than one would have expected. However, mere moments later the man seemed to deflate both physically and mentally. The stranger’s energy spent, he admitted to simply being one of those that helped Iggy escape from the Gulag. He was aware, somewhat, that there had been several hands and minds involved in the process, but not many names had been mentioned, nor what they did.
As it was, no one really seemed to want to mention the prison around Iggy – not that he could blame them. He didn’t particularly want to hear it brought up any more than they wanted to have to talk about it, either. He’d relived enough details of his incarceration over and over to both healthcare staff and friends that he felt he should have been numb to it at that point – instead finding it just as raw and painful and exhausting as always.
The royal retainer folded his hands in his lap as he politely listened to the stranger continue to speak. He wanted to wave off the man’s insistence about wishing the rescue squad could have gotten there earlier. It didn’t matter, after all – it was only luck that their timing combined with Ignis’s own escape attempt to create the perfect storm that allowed the downfall of the warden and his Gulag. If they had tried own their own before … would they have even been successful? Or just captured and forced into the same nightmare, perhaps even slaughtered?
Ignis inclined his head just slightly, feeling his too-long hair brush against his skin. Even if the fellow in front of him was a little crass and perhaps too honest, if he was involved in the rescue plans, then Scientia owed him his life – what little it was worth at the moment. Because he was right, despite how annoying it was; Ignis was lucky to be alive. He should have died in that miserable hell-hole. The only thing that kept him alive was a powerful drive that kept his willful spirit too strong to break.
His duty to Noctis – which not even the gods or former kings could have severed.
“I’m in your debt,” Ignis told the stranger honestly, his head still inclined politely, “You have my thanks for your assistance in my rescue. Truly.”
The man insisted that he knew what Ignis’s next question would be – and perhaps he did, or he was bluffing, he seemed the type. Regardless, Iggy turned his head to look in the direction of the stranger once more, his dulled eye only catching the barest hint of light from the nearby window.
“I’m afraid I still don’t know who you are,” his brow furrowed, Iggy unfolded his hands from his lap as he began to slowly reach for the cup he knew was on the bedside table, “Or why you would care for my well-being, and that of Noctis and Prompto. If you would care to explain, that would be–”.
His fingers hit the edge of the cup – too hard. He heard the soft cup, thankfully with its lid in tact, hit the top of the table before it rolled off and onto the floor.
