Izunia Lucis Caelum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
founderinglight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
phantasmalrift2018-04-06 03:57 pm
founderinglight) wrote in phantasmalrift2018-04-06 03:57 pm
one day the light of love, though it may seem far away
Who: Grandpa Sleepy and you!
What: Izunia has some projects catchall!
When: Late march and a couple days into April
Where: vvvvvarious
Warnings: None YET
March 28-April 3, daylight; space between the station and the lighthouse
[Sticking out in his black coat against the outline of the roof, here's Izunia -
And then he suddenly isn't, with an impressive throw of a greatsword that's nearly his own height spinning through the air. It embeds in the ground, kicking up sand, and he follows in a flash of blue before it vanishes. And then again, straight up into the air - and back down with an explosion of sand.
Or perhaps you catch him with a series of... cards? floating in an array around him, before he suddenly sets one to spinning and conjures a burst of water or ice from the ground. Or, rapier in hand, setting fire to the blade in a... mostly controlled manner. Ignore the singed grass.
Either way, it's clear that he's practicing - putting his abilities on full display for probably the first time, aside from that fateful seagull fight. And perhaps a sparring buddy wouldn't be out of the question...?]
April 4th, east laundry, afternoon
[Well, it's not a total mess. But a keen eye will spot Izunia at one of the sinks - for once, sans scarf. In fact, sans shirt entirely. The reason why is clear in what he's bent over - a bit of dark metallic blue dye and a teeshirt that used to be entirely white. Clearly, he didn't want to risk the rest of his clothes getting stained.
And, well, he was right to be worried, considering that there's a streak of the blue dye running up his forearm to the elbow from where he mistakenly leaned it against the edge of the sink as he works. Also, there's that tattoo on his chest - a flock of crows, indeed, an entire murder, flying away from a series of cracks directly over his heart.]
I suppose I should have done a test run, first...
April 4-5th, late evening/early night
[And once the shirt is finished and hung up to dry securely in his room (and a towel streaked with the dye that mostly came off his arm), Izunia settles himself back in the kitchen again. There's the smell of something in the oven - cheese? garlic? - and while he waits for it to finish, he sets with a notebook at one of the bench-style tables. There's an array of sketches (mostly, now, people around the station), a deck of what seems to be metal playing cards, an empty fountain pen, and directly in front of him, a journal written in neat handwriting...
...Completely in what someone from Earth would recognize as Latin. And unlike the majority of writing around the station, this doesn't seem to want to translate if you sneak a peek.
Good luck sneaking up on Izunia, though, because chances are he hears you and closes the notebook when you approach. There's that usual smile in place, but it seems a bit emptier than usual.]
Good evening.
And also the usual places at the usual times
[If those projects don't interest you, perhaps you've caught him somewhere having a nap, or out on the viewing deck some sunrise or sunset? Strange as he is, even he has a routine.]
What: Izunia has some projects catchall!
When: Late march and a couple days into April
Where: vvvvvarious
Warnings: None YET
March 28-April 3, daylight; space between the station and the lighthouse
[Sticking out in his black coat against the outline of the roof, here's Izunia -
And then he suddenly isn't, with an impressive throw of a greatsword that's nearly his own height spinning through the air. It embeds in the ground, kicking up sand, and he follows in a flash of blue before it vanishes. And then again, straight up into the air - and back down with an explosion of sand.
Or perhaps you catch him with a series of... cards? floating in an array around him, before he suddenly sets one to spinning and conjures a burst of water or ice from the ground. Or, rapier in hand, setting fire to the blade in a... mostly controlled manner. Ignore the singed grass.
Either way, it's clear that he's practicing - putting his abilities on full display for probably the first time, aside from that fateful seagull fight. And perhaps a sparring buddy wouldn't be out of the question...?]
April 4th, east laundry, afternoon
[Well, it's not a total mess. But a keen eye will spot Izunia at one of the sinks - for once, sans scarf. In fact, sans shirt entirely. The reason why is clear in what he's bent over - a bit of dark metallic blue dye and a teeshirt that used to be entirely white. Clearly, he didn't want to risk the rest of his clothes getting stained.
And, well, he was right to be worried, considering that there's a streak of the blue dye running up his forearm to the elbow from where he mistakenly leaned it against the edge of the sink as he works. Also, there's that tattoo on his chest - a flock of crows, indeed, an entire murder, flying away from a series of cracks directly over his heart.]
I suppose I should have done a test run, first...
April 4-5th, late evening/early night
[And once the shirt is finished and hung up to dry securely in his room (and a towel streaked with the dye that mostly came off his arm), Izunia settles himself back in the kitchen again. There's the smell of something in the oven - cheese? garlic? - and while he waits for it to finish, he sets with a notebook at one of the bench-style tables. There's an array of sketches (mostly, now, people around the station), a deck of what seems to be metal playing cards, an empty fountain pen, and directly in front of him, a journal written in neat handwriting...
...Completely in what someone from Earth would recognize as Latin. And unlike the majority of writing around the station, this doesn't seem to want to translate if you sneak a peek.
Good luck sneaking up on Izunia, though, because chances are he hears you and closes the notebook when you approach. There's that usual smile in place, but it seems a bit emptier than usual.]
Good evening.
And also the usual places at the usual times
[If those projects don't interest you, perhaps you've caught him somewhere having a nap, or out on the viewing deck some sunrise or sunset? Strange as he is, even he has a routine.]
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[He actually pauses for a moment.]
Well - the first thing you need understand is that we were a political match, not a marriage of love. After I took the throne, there were any number of proposals, and I knew that I had to choose one before I got too much older, considering that I was already in my mid-thirties.
[You know, the way he looks now, the age Ardyn's been frozen at for a barely-counted age? Yeah.]
Juno was one of the few with any kind of status who submitted a proposal by her own will, rather than some older relative doing so. She was... twenty-eight, I think? Enough younger to be significant, but not so much that we looked ridiculous together. Strong-willed, ambitious, tongue like knives - Aurora inherited much from her.
[He pauses, smiling faintly, to pull something small out of his Armiger. It's mostly hidden in his hand, but Prompto will probably be able to see it if he looks closely - a wedding band, with some engraved pattern mostly worn away by years of handling.]
In retrospect, I wish I'd allowed myself to get closer to her. She had a wonderful laugh. If I'd let myself, perhaps I could have loved her.
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It's like the opposite of Noct and Lady Lunafreya, whose hearts lived twined together in the diary Umbra brought them, no matter where they went, no matter how long it'd been since they saw each other last. No, Prompto thinks. It's like his own family. A child left alone in a dark house. Was that something his parents did, too--forget to allow themselves to get close to him?
He doesn't let any of that surface. After a pause, he just reaches across to pat Izunia's shoulder.]
Plenty of fish in the sea, dude. Now that you're, you know, back on "the outside," I bet you'll get another chance, whether you're looking for it or not.
[He settles back into his seat, arms crossed on the table, looking conspiratorial.]
Though, seriously, you can't have Ignis. Dude's been spoken for for like, sixteen years, sorry!
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[He actually winks. Joking around, definitely. Mood maker has taken effect again.]
I mean, it's not as though there are terribly many people in my own age group.
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[It's that kind of complete deadpan that comes with total sincerity. Sorry, Stone.]
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[He doesn't know anything about Justice Monsters, but you know what? Whatever. Grandpa will indulge you.]
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Now that would be something to see. Make the whole station take it, get some good data.