Week 7

[airlockedmods]

[Well that weekend sucked. The Champions are down a dad and a bean and shrinking their numbers smaller and smaller, less and less.

There's no sign of life in the spaceport aside from PAL's omnipresent voice and SIS, the helpful asSIStant who has some control over certain heres and theres in the spaceport. She (and PAL) are available at all times and can appear anywhere if called. There is, however, a new floor to explore. Just hop in the elevator and pchoo.]


Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

(( Don't forget to check in, check your memory regains! and put in for item regains))

Comments

[motherfucking_ghost]

No. No, I do not.

[He doesn't feel like it needs elaborated upon. He twirls the letter between his fingers a few times before he moves to open it. Gently. Gingerly. Like he's afraid it's got an explosive in it.]

[nightcure]

That's fair.

[ He watches Church, then looks away. ]

Ten years ago, I would've been glad to see Ardyn Izunia dead. I'm not going to deny that, because we both know it's true. But knowing what I know, seeing how he's changed?

I didn't want Ardyn Tenmyouji to die. Not when he had so much to live for. Not when he had you and Junpei and Yuuri and his family.

[ Because he knows what it's like to lose a father. A loved one. It hurts like hell. It did back then, when he heard it and watched it happen, and it still does ten years and so many months later. ]

[motherfucking_ghost]

For the record, if we ever did get hitched, somehow, there's no way in hell I'd take that name. No offense to Junpei, but c'mon.

[nightcure]

[ Goddamnit. Noctis snorts lightly. ]

... Yeah, I don't blame you.

[motherfucking_ghost]

[He could keep putting this off, but then Noct would probably never fucking leave. He's already got Junpei watching him, and him watching Junpei a bit, he doesn't need another babysitter hanging around.

So he reads.

The longer it goes, the more the page quavers in his hands. By the end, it seems like he's forgotten how to breathe again. And after a long while, he covers his misty eyes with a broad hand, sucking in a shaky breath.]

[nightcure]

[ As he begins to read, Noctis just... quietly turns his back. It's a private moment, one that already has enough of an audience without him watching Church the whole time.

It's... heartwrenching enough, to hear Church draw in that breath. ]

If you want me to leave, I'll go.

[motherfucking_ghost]

[He doesn't indicate one way or another, at first, mostly because he doesn't trust his own voice. He has to breathe first. Not sure why he's bothering. Human reflex.

When he does speak, he's quiet and miserable.]

The fuck does lux vitae meae mean?

[nightcure]

[ Ah, shit. Noctis inhales softly, rubs at the back of his neck, and he turns to Church. It honestly takes him a moment, but.... well. Noctis isn't stupid. And he knows enough Lucian to be able to tell Church this much. ]

It means, ah... "Light of my life," I'm pretty sure.

[motherfucking_ghost]

I fucking hate this.

[nightcure]

... I know. I'm sorry.

[motherfucking_ghost]

How is this better?

How is this better?! How the fuck does this help?

[nightcure]

I don't know. I can't tell you that. But... I know when I lost Luna, it hurt like hell. Knowing her last words to me, it--

[ He inhales sharply, pauses. ]

... In the end, it helped me carry on. Maybe it'll do that for you, too.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Just...just give it time, huh? Like a week, for someone else to die?

[nightcure]

[ And he stiffens at that, hand curling into a fist. ]

Putting words in my mouth isn't gonna help a damn thing.

[motherfucking_ghost]

I'm not, I--

[Whatever he's about to say, he can't anymore. His throat closes up, and he buries his face into his knees, shaking.]

[nightcure]

[ ah, fuck. Noctis hesitates, then--if Church'll let him--he crosses over and sets a hand on his shoulder. ]

... I'm sorry, Church. If you-- need anything, I'm here for you, alright?

[motherfucking_ghost]

[Like everything he does lately, the reply comes slow, groggy, through a sea of grief, struggling to break the surface, see the sun again.

He nods.]