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phantasmalrift2018-12-19 11:39 pm
phantasmods) wrote in phantasmalrift2018-12-19 11:39 pm
DUNGEON - BELLMARE ENCLAVE (BELLMARE MOUNTAINS, PT 2)
The shadows are starting to grow very long as you crest his particular ridge - it's not night yet, but it will be soon. In the shadows of the afternoon, with a tall mountain already blocking the sun, lies a snow-covered valley that is different from the ones you've come across thus far in your investigation.
This valley is home to a town, and unlike all the settlements you've seen so far - Incendia, the Telovia mining town, and the manor - it's very much active. There are actual people in the streets, visible from above, going through their days on snow-free streets, bundled up against the cold.
Those of you who asked were told of the handful of people who didn't go into the slumber of stasis as the Fissure conditions of the world grew worse and worse, instead isolating themselves and trying to continue living their lives as they could. Now, it seems, you've found exactly such a group.
Welcome to the Bellmare Enclave, and enjoy your stay.
[[OOC: Welcome to part 2 of the dungeon! For the most part, interaction with the town's NPCs can be handwaved as described on the main information post. Worth noting are the following major things: The Bellmare Enclave isn't expecting visitors, though the people are generally friendly to the new arrivals. They don't know about the time dilation effect of their Fissure - to them, it's only been about eighteen years since the Slumber Plan was put in place and they withdrew from the world. And finally, by a similar token, they have no idea how far the Fissures outside of their own have grown - while it's not uncommon for them to find odd objects from time to time, they'll assume that the characters are just arrivals from other places within their own world, rather than outsiders, until told otherwise.]]
This valley is home to a town, and unlike all the settlements you've seen so far - Incendia, the Telovia mining town, and the manor - it's very much active. There are actual people in the streets, visible from above, going through their days on snow-free streets, bundled up against the cold.
Those of you who asked were told of the handful of people who didn't go into the slumber of stasis as the Fissure conditions of the world grew worse and worse, instead isolating themselves and trying to continue living their lives as they could. Now, it seems, you've found exactly such a group.
Welcome to the Bellmare Enclave, and enjoy your stay.
[[OOC: Welcome to part 2 of the dungeon! For the most part, interaction with the town's NPCs can be handwaved as described on the main information post. Worth noting are the following major things: The Bellmare Enclave isn't expecting visitors, though the people are generally friendly to the new arrivals. They don't know about the time dilation effect of their Fissure - to them, it's only been about eighteen years since the Slumber Plan was put in place and they withdrew from the world. And finally, by a similar token, they have no idea how far the Fissures outside of their own have grown - while it's not uncommon for them to find odd objects from time to time, they'll assume that the characters are just arrivals from other places within their own world, rather than outsiders, until told otherwise.]]
no subject
We cannot be certain of anything in a place as strange as this, but for now it's, thankfully, not reality.
[And, as if to prove it to himself, Regis calls a ball of fire to his hand, rolling it around his palm for several moments before letting it fade again.]
Any idea what you were cooking?
[As much as this might sound like another deflection, Regis is actually curious and a little dismayed with his vision self for not paying closer attention.]
no subject
He lifts his hand for a moment, dancing his fingers through the fire Regis has summoned, surprised at the heat of it, sharp and biting. It's fleeting, perhaps only hurting because it's over the deeply scarred skin of his left hand. But it shouldn't hurt, it's-
It's not his. The power he has left is from the ring, or Izunia, or some strange combination of the two. It's not Regis' power and that makes his heart ache all over again. It's not right. His abilities belong to his King, so too should his magic. But he pushes the thought away, tries to hold that wry smile as he shrugs and focuses on the question.]
Nothing fancy, I promise you that. Probably just a fish stew, judging from the smell.
no subject
[It's one of the reasons he likes it so much, what makes it so different from the fare he usually experiences, though right now he speaks of it more to buy himself time to sort out the expressions he just watched pass over Nyx's face as he'd interacted with the fire.
Is seems Regis himself is not the only one who keenly feels the missing link between them.]
Once we've had time to recover, I would like to reforge the bond between us and allow you access to the Armiger.
[Someone should making use of it; someone who can access it easier than Regis can.]
As long as you have no objection that is.
[Regis doubts he will, but he leaves the option to say 'no' there just in case he is wrong. He has no wish to pressure Nyx into accepting should the Glaive no longer wish to be leashed to him.]
no subject
[It's impossible not to see the wheels turning in Regis' mind and he frowns a little. Damn. He'd been trying not to worry his King. It didn't really matter where the power came from so long as he was able to protect his King. He just didn't like not having that link between them.
And perhaps... he wasn't the only one.]
Of course not, sir. I would be honored-
[A huff of laughter, sheepish and wry.]
I'm that transparent huh? Yeah. Please. I don't like being tied to them. Not when I'm yours.
[Your Glaive. Obviously. That's... that's clear right? Shit, that sounded sappy as all hell and he is definitely not blushing ever so slightly. This was easier when there was a required level of professionalism involved.]
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The few seconds after Nyx says those words seem to slow to a crawl, lasting what feels like forever to Regis as he tries to work out the ball of emotions they cause in his chest. It's a reassurance he didn't realize he needed. A reminder that he hasn't lost everything; that one bond remains when he was forced to release so many and had so many others ripped away from him. It's...
...it's foolishness. As soon as those few seconds past, Regis is scolding himself for needing such a thing. For demanding more of Nyx who has already given so much.]
You belong to none but yourself in this place.
[He lets his hand rest on Nyx's arm for a moment, giving it a squeeze before letting it fall away.]
But you are welcome to walk at my side as long as you wish to. I will not grow tired of your presence. This I promise.
no subject
I've always been my own person, don't start that. I'm not one of your retainers, raised in servitude to the crown.
[A bit of an eye roll. He thinks that's bullshit, sir. It's great that Ignis is so dedicated to Noctis and that Gladio learns that loyalty but that's a great way to make those closest to you resent the fuck out of you in his mind.]
I chose to do this, to be your Glaive. And until you, Regis, tell me to leave you, and make a damn convincing argument of it, you're stuck with me.
[Sure did just curse in front of the King. Oops?]
no subject
Finally, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs.]
Goodness. You're not going to let me get away with even a little drama, are you?
[Right, because that was totally about the Lucis Caelum need for drama and nothing else.]
It seems that we are quite stuck with each other then. I do need someone to keep me grounded from time to time and you are damned good at it.
no subject
I think the twins will be more than enough drama.
[There's no denying that at least. The warmth in his chest fans out from a pleased, satisfied hum to something that flushes all the way up his neck and onto his cheeks at the sudden praise though. Not only praise but His Majesty's smooth cultured voice dipping into a curse, stressing it like that only makes it seem a touch more vulgar and Nyx's next breath rushes out. Oh... oh.
Hearing his King swear should not be so hot.]
I uh... I do my best.
[That was lame, Ulric.]
(CW: Swearing? Better safe than sorry.)
The words are there, but they are pushed to the side as Regis takes in Nyx's...unusual...reaction to his statement. Curious. He wouldn't think that one curse word would undo the Glaive so much. Surely, he must be used to such things. Yes, he must, so then is it not the word but the speaker?
A twinkle enters Regis' eyes. Oh, if that is so, then this is going to be a lot more fun than it should be.
His father would roll over in his grave if he knew what his son was about to say and Regis couldn't care less.
He steps forward bringing himself a little closer to his Glaive, shoulders squared, a look of seriousness on his face.]
Don't tell me you are one of those fucking nitwits who believes the king unable to utter even one damned swear word because it's not fucking proper. I'll have you know I can swear your tight ass under any shitty table you may find and screw it into the floor. Try me.
[And, if that isn't enough, every single swear word he uses is in a different language. Have fun with that, Nyx.]
no subject
And then Regis speaks.
At first the Glaive's eyes just go wide, then wider, then he chokes on his next breath and slams his eyes shut, unable to watch that mischievous twinkle in his King's eye never mind the lips forming such crude words. He doesn't even catch all of it, not knowing half as many languages as Regis does, but the intent is there and perfectly clear.
It's the last bit, about screwing him into the floor (and yes he caught that one) that has a strange, strangled little noise catching in his throat and he forces his eyes back open, trying so hard for defiant and challenging. Which he manages, mostly, but there's also so much heat in that silvery gaze that it's gone dark and steely with something hungry and wanting.
What the hell is he supposed to say to that?]
Is-uh... is that a threat or a promise? [And oh the bravado would be so much more convincing if he weren't breathless and unsteady on his feet, wavering like there's a magnet drawing him towards the other man that he has to keep reminding himself to fight.
He clears his throat a little, cocks a brow, and looks properly infuriating, finally.]
Sir.
I knew what you meant! LOL!
[The answer leaves Regis' mouth without him even thinking about it, the mischievousness in his eyes sliding into his smile. By the time he is finished speaking, though, there is more in the gaze that matches Nyx's bravado-filled one than mischief. There is approval, confusion and very well masked surprise. Regis was going for a reaction and he most certainly had gotten that, but the sheer strength of the reaction is what has so caught his attention. For an instant, he wonders if he has pushed his joke too far. After all, they are both injured and exhausted--Nyx more so than himself--and there is nothing humorous about shocking an injured man into breathlessness.
But this is a very different kind of breathlessness, isn't it? One that has nothing to do with injury.
The moment that thought crosses his mind, he hears a sharp voice scolding him for his foolishness, the voice sounding suspiciously like his father's which makes Regis want to ignore it out of sheer spite. Fortunately, it's much easier to do that when he remembers that strangled little noise Nyx had made in the back of his throat and then locks his gaze on eyes gone dark and hungry with want.
Regis isn't sure when he raises his hand, but he very acutely is aware of when his fingers lightly brush over the stubble on Nyx's jaw. Originally, he means it as just a brief contact to act as something grounding for them both, but brief contact becomes more when his hand settles, thumb gently drifting across his Glaive's cheek.]
I very much wish to talk about this when we are out of this blasted cavern.
no subject
There's a flicker of something near panicked in his gaze, something soothed away by the warm hand settling against his face and even with the clarity afforded by pain he still tilts his head into the contact, savors the smooth stroke of Regis' thumb over his check. It's a strange sensation, warm and soft then flashing bright and hot across his nerve endings as the touch skims over the rough lines of scarring that now mar his face.
The scars mean that there's even more stubble than he would usually allow, hands now unsteady over the unfamiliar terrain of his own face. Something which Regis maps out without fear and Nyx finds himself tipping his face into the touch, turning just so, lips skimming over his King's wrist lightly, something firmer, closer to an actual kiss over the heel of his hand. Just as Regis hadn't acknowledged the intent until he'd made contact Nyx doesn't realize hie's lifted his hand to cover Regis' until his fingers tangle with the other man's stilling his hand so he can finish the turn. The kiss to his palm is exactly that, light but full of intent.
No matter how foolish he knows it to be.
Then he slowly lifts his head, finding vibrant green eyes and nodding his agreement. That agreement, though, doesn't quite mean that he really thinks much of it when he lowers his hand, taking Regis' with him, fingers still laced together. ]