Ignis Scientia

Invitations may have been sent out by one Ignis earlier that week, but this Ignis was not aware of such a thing. All this Ignis, significantly younger and somehow more serious than that Ignis, really knew was that he was here again in this now familiar mansion, waking up mysteriously once more beside a girl who had somehow become very near and dear to him as a friend, on the weekend before her birthday. Clearly, he needed to take advantage of that, and decided that he wanted to throw her a party. After all, they had all this space in the mansion, a glorious ballroom, and a very capable zombie...helper (he recoiled at the application of a word like servant, for very personal reasons)...so why not?

So new invitations for roughly the same occasion were being sent out, not nearly so fancy as the ones that had landed in mailboxes earlier that week, but still written carefully and studiously with a steady and serious hand, and his best attempts at drawings of birthday balloons and a birthday cake.

And, as it so happened, by some magic he didn't think to question, just like he didn't question his sudden appearance in this now-familiar mansion, it seemed that the ground works for a party had already been laid out for him, making the task of a single day to put it together much less insurmountable. Truly, serendipitous, that the catered food had already been ordered, that entertainers were arriving throughout the day, that a new chandelier was being installed that very day! Of course, these things were all a bit....different upon arrival than the ones that had been originally ordered: the food was all scrumptious but decidedly kid friendly, in its various pizza and nugget forms, the fine wine took the form of the fanciest juice boxes one ever did see, and the chandelier in question was actually a giant piñata that hung over the room in anticipation of being bashed open in the celebration to revel many delicious treats inside.

Not only that, there was a spooky bouncy castle, the musicians original hired were instead performers of magic and puppetry to delight any child guest, and instead of the poker tournament that had been planned, there were kid-like games set up of Pin the Feathers on the Chocobo, a beanbag toss, limbo, and the like.

And, of course, just out in the garden, pony rides.

Everything (hopefully!) that a girl would want for her birthday party, while the boy who planned it was a little stunned at how easily it had all come together. Almost as if something more than him had managed to get it all nicely set up for him, and all he had to do was bring it all together.

[[ OCD is, of course, incoming! Party open to one and all! ]]

Wiz Forlane might have been long gone by now, but Wiz Chocobo Post, post-war, post-Long Night, post New Dawn, was thriving. Settled on the edge of the misty Nebulawood of the Duscae region just outside of New Insomnia, with the Disc of Cauthess looming nearby, far colder than it used to be, what had used to be just a small outpost dedicated to renting (and sometimes racing!) chocobos to travelers had become a bit of an institution. Without the worries of war and the plight of Starscourge making travel safe at any time of day or night, the place had thrived under Camilla's new ownership in the past two years, building a more comfortable inn for visitors and expanding the legacy that Wiz had left behind. And this weekend, where all across Eos, people were celebrating the birthday of the Last King of Lucis, it was also incredibly busy.

Something that Ignis had not expected, although, in retrospect, he supposed he should have.

Either way, he had been proactive in assuring that they'd all had rooms at the hotel, and as they found their way to the Post from their portal, he had to admit, there was something incredibly reassuring about it. The last time they'd been here, the place had been all but abandoned, and now there were families and couples, individual travelers and chocobo enthusiasts; down by the Neeglyss Pond, their main fishing spot for this trip, he could already hear the Catoblepas trudging through the water, and it filled him with a sort of...pride. His relationship with Eos as of late may have been a difficult, complicated thing, and as much as he was coming to terms with the fact that it had given him so little compared to how much he'd given up for her, it felt good to know that it was healing. That all that he had given wasn't completely for naught.

Especially on this weekend.

"Well, then," he announced to his assembled group of companions, "and now we've arrived."

And now he just waited for the inevitable squeal from Noctra the moment she spotted one of the actual chocobos.

....or Prompto, too, for that matter.

[[ for thems that are there with him! And NFB for distance, of course! ]]

If Liliana had just remained a cat this whole time these past two weeks, then Ignis would likely be fine with it, even with all the dead mice that had been left proudly for him, especially in their bed, which he could at least understand as the gesture it was meant to be. But there was something about having had her turn back oh-so-briefly last Thursday, only to revert back to her current feline state, that made everything exceptionally harder.

Though he would admit a certain respect for the dedication to academic pursuits/complaining about ancient assholes.

Which basically meant that the mansion was spotless, the pantry was filled with fresh baked goods and everyone's freezers had all sorts of prepped meals stuffed into them, he had at least two semesters' worth of lesson plans if he ever did start teaching again, and the training room was getting some extensive and intensive use these morning. Ignis had been so dogged and determined in nailing the drills that even Gladio was getting a little winded and wondering if maybe they should take it easy.

Which meant Prompto was practically dying, groaning as he plopped down on the floor and spread out his limbs, crying mercy.

"I'm too young to go this early!" he declared. "I have children! Do you want Liz to be a widow?"

"Well," Gladio offered, giving Prompto's foot a small nudge with his own, before offering out a hand to pull him up, "on the bright side, at least she won't have to change her wardrobe much for mourning."

"We've almost got it to perfection," Ignis insisted. "Just a few more times, and--"

"--and we're just going to get more tired and make mistakes, which makes it harder to get there," Gladio countered. "Aren't you the one who's always harping on us about pushing past our limits?"

"Oh," Ignis huffed slightly, "I haven't likely said that in years."

"Not for yourself, maybe," Prompto pointed out, and there was a bit of a pause, and Ignis sighed.

"Let's just run it five mor--" His words were buried in groans. "Three more times, and we'll have ourselves a break."

"Or," Prompto tried, "call it a day."

"Well, we'll finish the job once we do it right, then. Come on. Liven up. Practice makes perfect."

"Practice," Prompto murmured, mostly to himself, maybe a little to Gladio, "makes me want to just shoot a guy right in the butt."

"I heard that."

[[ for the lady of the house, please! and if you don't expect this to go NFSW then I don't know what you think you were reading... ]]

After a weekend like the last, Ignis and Liliana had whisked themselves south, shirking their oh-so-pressing duties on the island to cloister for a few days in the sunny countryside villa that had entered their ever-growing roster of hideaways, habitations, and households, and weren't they both better off because of it. Of course, for Ignis, it wasn't just about some well-earned relaxation to ease the physical and mental strain and drain that went with several days hunched over in a workroom or traipsing around Innistrad.

For Ignis, things were rarely so singularly intentioned as that, although yesterday....that had been intentionally simple, a day of basking in each other's company, feasting on local foods, making idle plans that may or may not be followed through on, distractions pending, and just reveling in the intricate steps of their surprisingly easy and endless waltz. And today had been much of the same, with just a bit more laziness involved. Lounging in bed a little later, less complicated recipehs that lent themselves well to distracted cooking, skipping his training forms out on the deck in favor of appreciating the fine work of Liliana's fingers as they plucked at her lyre or brushed through his hair and behind his ears, his head in her laps, as they discussed the artistic merits of more of that Kamigawan poetry she'd recently unearthed.

And now, as evening fell, the next second. The underlying purpose. And also the edge of a potential point of no return. And one might argue that he could still step back from that precipice, but he would find that arguement faulty and flawed. The last few days had only bolstered his convictions.

He might not be able to see the slowly emerging stars in the stretch of sky darkening above them, but he could feel the coolness creeping into the air, he could hear the sounds of the day shifting into the music of the evening, and feel the oh-so-subtle weight of the shadows shifting and lengthening to let him know that the twilight hour was upon them.

"Darling?" He found Liliana, two glasses in one hand and a bottle of one of the wines they had cultivated together on one of their first ventures out here in the other. "I think tonight is an excellent one to enjoy the fruits of our labors. Don't you agree?"

[[ for the paramour, por favor, and NFB for distance~ ]]

For a good, long time, even when they were back on Eos, Ignis had never been afflicted with that particular Fandom phenomena of random animal (or, in some cases, plant) transformations, as if the powers behind such whimsy knew that he'd need to still be quite himself for the sake of the others. But as soon as that was not necessary, as soon as he, too, seemed to have someone to take care of him, he had his first bout, a little bat comfortably nestled against Liliana, dreadfully on the nose with its thematic accuracy, and that was, then, what he suspected he would continue to be in those moments. After all, Prompto was always a puppy, Gladio always the flower of his namesake.

But that was, clearly, not the case. He'd taken a different form this time, at a horribly inopportune time....or was it? The 'foxicorn,' as he had been so charmingly dubbed by Chandra, was in actuality, a carbuncle, a legendary Eosian creature. A Messenger, in fact, a creature that might inspire comparisons to angels in other realms, though you certainly wouldn't catch Ignis making that connection. Of the twenty-four messengers that served the Astrals, all of them answered to the Oracle...except for one, who answered specifically to the Lucian royal house. Carbuncle, of course. Noctis' father had given him a Carbuncle totem in his youth, around the same time as his mother's death, around the same time that he'd also brought Ignis to him to be his companion and steward. Carbuncle, too, was a helper and a healer. A guide, a guardian, a protector.

So was it really much of a surprise, then, that it had been the form that Ignis had taken, in that moment? It wouldn't have been the first time, either, that Carbuncle made its presence known to him, at some moment of imminent danger.

But while he was in this new carbuncle form, it was all warmth and comfort and light. It was all a bit fuzzy, too, and it was with a feeling of clarity and the return of darkness that Ignis realized he was back to himself again. He was curled up against Liliana, and there were cool, chill fingers in his hair, right behind his ear, where her nails had gently scratched. There was the slightest moment of a hesitation before he uttered his first human sound in several days, just a deep, grateful rumble of appreciation, his head tilting and leaning into the touch. And were it not for the fact that he had arms again to hold her and lips again to kiss her, he might have stayed exactly there to revel in it. But he did have both those things, and so much more, and memories and awareness starting to flood back in, as well, so while he may have lingered a bit longer than he might have ever allowed years ago, he shifted, unraveling himself only to turn and wrap himself anew around Liliana and seek out her lips with his own, and murmuring into this as he regained his voice.

"Hello, my love," he said. "Miss me?"

He had no idea how many days had even passed, but it hardly seemed to matter.

[[ obviously for the shamelessly modded necromancer in the bed with him, and NFB for ~distance~ ]]

Markov Manor was torn apart, opened up and laid out to view like a dissected animal pinned to a board. Spires, halls, buttresses, and turrets were ripped from their moorings and left to hang at odd angles around the sundered core of the manor building.

Jace and Ignis stood at the end of a long arched bridge that jutted out from the mountainside. Below them was a sheer drop disappearing into mist. Ahead, what was once the rest of the bridge had become a scattering of steppingstones across the void, leading to the entryway of the manor.

"I guess Sorin probably isn't here," Jace muttered to to his companion.

Suddenly, he saw the place as it must have once been—an awe-inspiring structure of intricately decorated spires and balustrades, perched like a vulture at the edge of a lofty promontory. His breath caught in his chest as he took in the scale of the...not a manor, no, but a castle. A palace.

And the vision was gone, like an illusion. Scowling, he reached out with his mind, looking for some other intelligence that had forced the image into his mind. No one but Ignis was nearby, at least not anyone with thoughts he could detect. And he didn't think that had been a trick from the other man. Their relationship wasn't exactly chummy, but he'd seemed sincere in his desire to find Sorin with Jace. Sincere enough to risk infuriating Liliana. Jace had been on the wrong side of Liliana's wrath more than once and 'unpleasant' was a vast understatement. Still, he reinforced the wards he habitually kept around his mind and surveyed the castle as it actually was.

"Did Sorin do this, you think?" he wondered aloud. Liliana had suggested that he wasn't particularly welcome in his ancestral home. Either way, the sheer scale of the devastation gave him pause. "It's possible I should have taken Liliana's warnings more seriously." This was not the first time he'd thought that this journey and he was pretty sure it wasn't going to be the last.

( Ignis was incredibly tempted... )

[[ a follow-up from here, and beaten, wrangled, modified, and cribbed from "The Mystery of Markov Manor" by James Wyatt, by the truly remarkable deathsmajesty and me! NFB, NFI, and OOC welcome! And do we really need the LENGTH warning? ]]

Ignis was grateful for the convenient excuse of the kitchen once things were settled (for now) with Jace. Not only because the whole unexpected ordeal had put a pause on preparing a prize that he'd been looking forward to substantially, but also because, preparing that prize would now also give him the opportunity to think about something else for a short while. To focus on creating dinner, with a few stray thoughts here and there that were then neatly carved from his attention and thrown into the compost with the rest of his scraps.

But, of course, once the meal was finished, and he and Liliana sat down to enjoy it (with a plate, of course, dutifully sent up to their reluctant guest), those thoughts returned, balanced between the attempt to convince himself that none of this was any of his concern, even without consideration to Liliana's clear distaste for the situation, and that unavoidable tug to want to be able to help. Of course, it all might be moot by the morning, but he, from what he could discern from the man in even this brief meeting and from the pictures presented to him of (he certainly assumed) alternate futures, very much doubted it.

And therein was, indeed, a bit of a problem. When his attentions were turned to the outside world and his surroundings, Ignis' attention and senses were sharp and precise and didn't miss much. But when they turned inward, to his own head, it was all too easy for him to forget what existed outside of him, and so while his mind felt like a veritable cacophony of tumultuous thought and indecision and arguments from every side imaginable, his body exuded that deep, silent pensiveness as it cut into the tender venison and lifted it to his mouth, chewing it almost mindlessly besides for a small moment of acknowledgement to its excellent flavor, how well it was washed down with this particular wine, and now back to this conundrum of some haplessly misplaced plane-destroying creature on the loose in the Multiverse thanks to Liliana's clearly reckless, clearly foolhardy, godsdamned ex....

( A *Minor* Difference of Opinion.... )


[[ continued from here and torturously preplayed with the ever effervescent and erudite deathsmajesty. NFB and NFI, but OOC to help ease the pain is always welcome! ]]

Apparently, it would seem that spending the weekend as his seven-year-old self had not tempered with Ignis' natural sleeping patterns, so he awoke rather early that Monday, just slightly over when he might normally extricate himself from Liliana to get ready for the early morning training session. Of course, the only thing he had to extricate himself from was the bed in one of the guest rooms, and that....well....that simply would not do.

And so he he got up, made his way through the halls after taking a moment to orient himself based on which guest room he wound up in, and found himself at the more familiar threshold of his and Liliana's bedroom.

Where he returned to their bed, slipping back in as smoothly as he could, so as to not disturb her until his arms were around her and he was nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Mmmm," he hummed softly, "much better."

[[ for she in the bed, naturally. As natural as the NSFW warning that follows~ ]]

Today was Liliana's birthday, and, in a bold act of selfishness, Ignis had made the request that the squander it all away by spending it with him. Granted, he was fully aware of the fact that Liliana would be the exact type to subscribe to the idea of a birthday week, especially when she had to make up for last year's unfortunate timing that rendered her a mere child for the event, and he rather suspected that she did (somewhat, maybe, perhaps enjoy spending time with him, so he wasn't too terribly fussed about it. Especially since he was fairly certain she would also enjoy what he had in store for them.

Starting, of course, with him taking the day off of both work and training, allowing them to sleep in, especially since he was planning on having breakfast (or, rather, brunch) handled elsewhere, in a cute little bistro in the shadow of the gleaming Citadel in New Insomnia. From there, a car had been rented (did Ignis briefly contemplate making the sojourn with chocobos? Yes, for a split second before reminding himself that he did actually value his life and didn't want to be murdered) to drive them out to the Vesperpool, a journey that weaved through most of Lucis, affording Liliana a glimpse of most of what it had to offer: from the sparse badlands of Leide, the plains and woods of Duscae clustered around the Disc of Cauthus and the ropes of rock from the impact of the Meteor. They skirted past Lestallum when they entered Cleigne to head, instead, through the mountains and the old Hunter headquarters to emerge into their destination. The weather had, unfortunately, not cooperated, but the rain was light and warm, and, really, made short stroll through the swamp feel more true to the experience, anyway. There was no way to keep one's self that dry in approaching Steyliff Grove, anyway, and so Ignis certainly hoped Liliana had taken his warning about footwear to heart.

Trudging through a rainy swamp might not have seemed like what anyone would imagine to have been an ideal birthday excursion for Liliana, but, well, Ignis had nothing but confidence that it would be worth it.

And, eventually, there they stood among the pillars that flanked the entrance to the ancient mausoleum of the long-gone Solheim civilization, the structure of imposing stone laced with hints of old technology and nature's attempts to reclaim it, with its broken cracked stone stairs leading up to its towering entrance.

The timing should have mostly worked out, but as they approached, Ignis explained, "If the entrance is not glowing red yet, then we'll have to wait a moment. The tombs only become accessible when proper night falls."

[[ for the necromancer with the birthday and NFB for distance, obvi ]]

The quiet spot on the beach was the same, as was the fisherman's paella, but the date, the fruit salad, and the wine were all different, as Ignis had been saving one of the bottles they'd cultivated together in Argentina with the hopes to bring it out for this exact occasion: a celebration of the very first meal he'd ever cooked for Liliana, on this very same beach, as a bold response to a coy and cloying inquiry that had not only kicked off his experience at last year's Three Minute Dates, but had also fundamentally altered the trajectory of his life in ways he would have never imagined were even possible.

It was hard to put into words exactly how completely and extraordinarily things had changed for him during this past year, and so Ignis wasn't even going to try. In fact, he was just going to do what he knew was a far better way for him to communicate all of that, the same method he'd used to channel all the things that couldn't be expressed otherwise, for one reason or another: by pouring it all into food instead.

And so, his camp station was set up, there was achingly familiar music drifting quietly from a familiar music box, there was an excess of fruit that was not going into the salad to satisfy any grazing fingers, a spoon that being ostentatiously flipped far more than could ever be necessary, and, of course, someone to share it all with.

[[ and the post is for that someone~ ]]