theairlock | week 6

I know. I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid. It's not like I can shut it off. I might've made a decision, but it doesn't feel like I've got a choice.

Besides, there's a saying. To err is human. So. I guess by that standard we're both at least a little bit human.

That's your own choice. Don't start cursing me when it starts to backfire on you.

[He'd had quite enough of that.]

...This should have been over. Human, daemon, either way--I should be dead.

I mean there'll be cursing either way, it's me.

[He pulls away enough to look at him, but like fuck is he pulling his hands away. The touch-starvation might only have been in his head, but damn it...]

Yeah, maybe. We've already proved it doesn't matter here, in this place and crazy way in the future. Lotta people already dead just being here. You're not exempt from the made-up rules of this place.

... [His right hand moved as though he was going to pry off the hold Church had--and then he hesitated, hand dropping to rest on Church's arm instead.]

...I don't know who you're talking to right now. I don't know what I am or what's left after all this.

Then this is gonna be a fun--and by fun, let it be known I mean really, really painful--time of self-discovery for you until we get the fuck out of here.

Because someone's left enough to invoke ye olde kissing challenge of karaoke-off past, and someone's left to stay, and someone's here right now. Even if it's 'just Ardyn', or even if it's someone new.

[A low, tired chuckle left Ardyn at that, head dropping onto Church's shoulder in either complete exhaustion or something that passed for affection when one was completely dead inside.]

...I don't understand any of you. Why-...even Noctis wouldn't just hate me in the end. Why, when that's...so much easier than anything else?

You don't just hate someone because someone tells you you should. You really gotta get to know someone on a personal level, like on a 'live with every single god damn day' level, and then you pick out all the shit you should hate them for.

I mean, yeah, it's easier. Anger and hate are so, so easy. But if we all did what's easiest all the time, nothing would ever get done.

You're telling me you can't hate someone who ended the world? That Lunafreya couldn't hate someone that murdered her, or that Noctis couldn't hate someone who dismantled his entire kingdom and all that he cared for?

[He laughed again, hand gripping Church's arm like Ardyn was trying to convince himself this entire conversation was actually happening for how ridiculous it seemed.]

Hey, I never used the word "can't".

...I can't speak for them. And, yeah, ending worlds? I can hate that. I can hate that a lot. Of course I hate that.

The, uh, the aliens we're fighting back home. They've got this--we call it glassing. Orbital bombardment with plasma weapons. It leaves the surface covered in this sorta glassy substance, hence glassing. They blast every single last centimeter of a planet until there's nothing. They've done it. To colonies. Not just one or two.

So yeah, Ardyn. I can hate someone who ended a world. Fuck knows if anyone's still alive now that the Chosen Kid ended you. Maybe you really fucking did it.

Here's the point I've been trying to make ever since we realized there's a difference between you and your daemons. There's something inside of you that would recoil in horror at the thought of doing something like that. There's a part of you that would, in a fucking instant, take it all back.

I don't care how stupidly cheesy it sounds, there's a light in you, and that's the part I don't hate. And just maybe I'm not the only one that sees that.

[Maybe, he idly wondered, the planet wasn't utterly empty. Insomnia was dead, there was no arguing that. But he'd never really left the Citadel, so there was no way of knowing if every last outpost had fallen as well. Maybe they had. Maybe he wasn't sure if he cared.]

The light you're talking about...it went out a very long time ago. The only thing that brought back so much as a spark was this place and some inconvenient memory loss. [His hand dropped from Church's arm in favor of being brought hesitantly around his shoulders.] He doesn't exist anymore. I'm not-...he isn't...

Edited 2017-06-19 21:15 (UTC)

[Maybe this is why Ardyn was avoiding him, in some subconscious way. That some version of this conversation was bound to happen. And god damn it, since they didn't get it out in the morning, they're getting it out now.

Church slides his hands to frame Ardyn's cold face, to make sure there's no turning away from this, no hiding, not for either of them.]

I fucked up, okay? This whole thing, it's fucked up, and I've made some bad decisions, and I'm gonna own up to them. But this is where we are. Here is where we are. Like it or not, daemon or not, we give a shit about each other.

So listen to me for two seconds. It started out as a joke, but look where that got us--I'm the King's Shield, to the end of the line. You get that? The King's. Shield. If there wasn't a fraction of him left in you, somewhere, somehow, I wouldn't be doing this. I'm going to fight for him. I'm going to fight for you even if you don't want it, because I'm a soldier; I protect people. And I've been doing a shitty job of it so far because of all these circumstances that are completely out of our hands, but once upon a time, a man named Ardyn Lucis Caelum existed, and I refuse to believe that every last scrap of him is just gone. Maybe he's just part of this amalgamation that is you, that is just Ardyn, or maybe he's a flickering fucking spark, but he's there, and you're there, and I fight for the king.

Okay?

Just...tell me I'm making at least a little sense, because I think there's every possibility I sound almost a quarter fucking crazy as you feel.

Both of you committed too much to what was just a thoughtless comment. And yet you're a better Shield than Vandeae ever was, if you're truly going to believe that. [His voice was steady, yellow eyes focused without yet being cold or spiteful. For now, Ardyn looked like someone who was neither the Chosen King nor the hateful Accursed--he just seemed human, uncertain and tired.]

...he's still there. I wish it weren't the case, but something yet remains even now. The savior who was so loved, who thought himself the Chosen King that his people exalted and sang of the prophecy ending the eternal night...something of him still exists even now.

If anyone ever asks, I don't have a single fucking clue how this happened either.

[He's no good at hiding his expressions, because he'd never had to. So he's tired, yes, not nearly as much as Ardyn, but it's clear. But he's also relieved. To finally hear him cop to as much. To what he'd thought and insisted on all this time. He manages a little smile and an even smaller laugh, and leans in to press a kiss to Ardyn's forehead.]

I hope you don't mind that I'm pretty ecstatic to have him still there. It's...better, in my purely greedy-ass opinion, to have you, this whole if fractured you, than to have nothing but a daemon walking around in a fleshsuit. Caring hurts. You know that all too well. You'd think after Tex, I wouldn't bother, because that hurt. More than I can say. But I'm gonna keep at it. I mean, fuck, I don't have a prophecy dangling over my head, and the only people who could turn on me now are all here, so I guess you're all just stuck with my big fat caring ass.

I want it gone. I hate that there's anything like that still complicating all of this when it's complicated enough. Recalling the person that was struggling to worry about all of you for weeks, the one that taught Clarith that song, and especially the one that was in here with the rest of you that night, it's-...

[Painful.]

...I've been Ardyn Izunia for so long that feeling human now is almost worse.

I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: that's what being human's like all the time. Of course being a daemon's easier. They don't worry about shit like other people or joy or anything like that. Being human's harder, and it's worse, but it's also better. You remember what it felt like--even if you can't feel it now, you still remember those couple days, that night, how it felt? Isn't that worth it?

At the very least, you showed off you got a nice singing voice, Ardy.

I don't know. I don't know if it was better or if I just want to erase it completely. Right now it just feels as though that was someone else entirely, someone I can't reach anymore or simply don't want to.

[Ardyn shook his head, sighing quietly.]

That ridiculous display...you're easily impressed if you thought that was my best, you know.

Pretty sure you're closer to that now than you've been...y'know. Since you were him. Since you were without this. So I'm just gonna keep encouraging it. Sucks to be you.

[Yes, he's slowly getting more flippant, but that's how you know he's getting okay. He sits back--or rather he finally plunks himself into a chair so he's not standing this whole damn time, but rest assured he's still got a hand on Ardyn. His hand this time. Just that pseudo-human connection.]

Mm, didn't call it your best, just said it was good. You were drunk at the time. Don't tell me you only sing when you're drunk, because that'd be a travesty.

Now that actually does sound like a challenge.

[He answered with a smirk--not quite Ardyn Izunia's condescension, but it wasn't Ardyn Lucis Caelum's reckless confidence. It was something more subdued, quiet amusement with an edge of something forlorn.]

You want to know the answer that badly?

Since when do I not want to know everything about you? 's a karaoke bar, and we're the only ones here right now. I'll even pour you one if it'll make you feel at home, even if you can't taste it or anything. Intergalactic boyband, man, just think about it.

[Ardyn shook his head slightly; none of that would be necessary. Perhaps it was right that it should be heard from him of all people, one last time.]

[Ardyn closed his eyes, took a slow breath, and started singing in that low voice that could be either gentle compassion or snarling anger. Unlike with Clarith, it was...quieter, now. The melody came slower, the words more subdued. When he'd taught it to her it was as a message of hope after deep despair, of the dawn that broke through the night.]

[But now it was something else, wasn't it? As it was truly intended, the song was a prayer for the Chosen King. For the one who had fallen and the one who had ascended in his place. To whatever remained of the savior, and to the sacrifice of Noctis Lucis Caelum who had finished what his ancestor had begun thousands of years ago.]

[It was the final prayer of one who even the gods had long since cast out, who had been lost to darkness for thousands of years. The hope that the dawn would come--and that those in thrall to darkness would disappear like a mere nightmare.]

Edited (i can proofread) 2017-06-19 23:48 (UTC)

[Whatever Church was expecting, that...that wasn't it.

Of course it's in Latin, something he can't exactly speak fluently or anything, but he can pick out a few words here and there. That's not the point, though. (Well, it might be--he's not exactly going to ask for a translation right now.) The point is it's slow, quiet, but with a restrained operatic quality he had no idea could come out of Ardyn.

And there's feeling behind it. A deep and heavy weight, maybe dragging him down, maybe letting it go, and the words are certainly practiced to hand it to him a cappella. It's not just something Ardyn picked up along the way. It's...

He starts to realize that this is the song Ardyn had been speaking of. Not just one he probably taught to Clarith, but the prophecy ending eternal night. His people sang it. About him, before anyone had any idea. God, it must be etched practically into his soul.

His hand tightens on Ardyn's, too mesmerized to even think of letting go, letting his voice roll and reverberate in him. Normally, under most circumstances, he wouldn't think he'd be the type to get worked up over music unless it's to get excited about a good jam. Not that he'd want to listen to moving pieces around the guys and get mocked into eternity for feeling them right in his bones. Still, the near physical impact, the tremendous weight of the meaning, however lost on Church and not at all lost on Ardyn, finds his cheeks more damp than they were just a moment ago, he swears.

The last note fades, and the quiet takes back hold, and he's pretty sure that nothing in the universe will ever quite be the same again. The emptiness is almost as heavy as the song, almost. When he feels the almost numb buzz start to fade from the goosebumps on his skin, his free hand quickly reaches up to wipe at his eyes.

It's just dust. Honest. And one more thing to get Church to shut the hell up.]

...It's not so hard to get you to stop talking after all.

[Ardyn gave the usual hollow laugh, eyes still clear and focused as he opened them again.]

Shut up. [Though it came out with a little hiccup in it, still half-hiding his face with his hand. His sniff might give it even more away, though.]

Okay. New plan. Solo act. You could pull it off. Maybe an acoustic for the sake of melody, but that's about it. Don't wanna crowd the stage.

[He still sounds just a little shaky, but good enough to finally drop his hand and give him a little smile.]

Now you're the one telling me to shut up? You're terribly impertinent, for the Shield of the King.

[The enigmatic-half smile had finally returned to Ardyn's face, paired with a faintly mocking tone.]

I could always get Luscinia's help. She might enjoy it.

I like to think the rudeness and lack of personal space are just parts of what make me such a good one. You know you love it.

[His marrow still feels like it's vibrating from the song, and he makes a mental note to talk to Clarith about it later, but the informal talk makes things so much easier to digest. When overwhelmed, aim for frivolity and humor.]

Teach all of them. You'll have a whole choir of completely in-tune pigeons at your beck and call. Plus, man, think of their feathers in spotlight? Give 'em the ol' razzle-dazzle.

week 6

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