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[draganea]

[There is something to be said about a person who has a certain eagerness and readiness like Ignis is expressing. Shows some strength and resolve, as well as further proof that the man wants to be back on the field. Proof that while he is physically impaired, his spirit is far from it. She could respect that, but she may also push him harder because of it. Not to be an ass, but because she knows there is potential there, just as she sees it now.

And yet he still manages to surprise her in such an unexpected yet amusing way. That proper politeness is just so...laughable in a way. At least to her, a woman who is quite the opposite. It makes her wonder what could break that rigidity, so he'll hear the light amusement in her voice as she answers.]

Giving a girl your address after treating her to dinner, but offering breakfast but without asking her to sleep over first? That's a first. Bet you confuse a lot of girls that way.

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Perhaps I do.

[He'd never given it much thought from that particular angle, but even in living his life the way he did, following a very carefully laid-out path for himself when he could, he can certainly see how it might look from where she's sitting.]

I simply believe in offering both credit and thanks where they are due. I realize that's rather uncommon these days. Old-fashioned, I suppose.

[draganea]

Hah, you actually admit it. [A small chuckle. This guy really is weird.] All right, fine. I'll take your old-fashioned "gratitude."

The coffee better be good, though, or you'll have a rough day instead.

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I do attempt to be reasonably self-aware.

[He knows what he's like-- even without his friends present and taking every opportunity to remind him through teasing.]

I assure you, you won't be disappointed.

[Ebony is that good, after all.]

The dinner, I hope, is living up to the recommendation?

[draganea]

[But will there still be Ebony in this dark, new world?]

It's not too bad...could use some more spice in it, though.

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[He may have stocked up upon moving to Lestallum. He has some reserves left.]

I've told the proprietor that a number of times.

[He laughs lightly, followed by a rueful smile.]

I don't think many people are willing to trust a blind man's culinary expertise.

[He could make better.]

[draganea]

Haven't had your cooking so can't really say either way. But if they won't listen, prove it to them.

[She works another forkfull, silverware clinking against the plate.]

Just cook your own and make 'em try it.

[Clearly she speaks as if she doesn't suspect that he's lost whatever amazing touch he had before. Maybe more difficult, but he's had a year. Surely he would have worked on that at least.]

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[He smiles, appreciating the simplicity of her point-of-view, but the mirth is gone from it now.]

I'm afraid it's a bit too complicated at the moment. My skillset has been hindered, somewhat.

['A great deal' would have been far more accurate. He could still cook to a certain extent, still feed himself, but nothing so elaborate as what he was once used to. Certainly nothing involving the use of a knife, although Iris had been kind enough to assist him in putting raised numbers and labels on certain cabinets and the knobs on the stove. He hated that he had to have them at all, but he was grateful all the same.]

Rebuilding it has been... slow.

[draganea]

[There's a pause as she looks at him, and when she is finally able to answer.]

Well that sucks. Sorry. [Typical Aranea, she spares no real terms of sympathy.] Thought you would have figured it out by now.

[She gave him more credit than he deserved, it seems, but it is a little sad (in the pitiful way) that he's still struggling this much.]

What's been the most challenging part?

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[He grimaces. Of course, he hadn't expected sympathy, but he does not relish having to admit his failings, particularly in this area. Struggling in combat was to be expected, but there were so many day-to-day tasks that many people took for granted.]

Some of it, I have. Simpler things still took some practice, but I've managed.

[The fact is, he's spent most of this time alone, and that makes certain practices especially challenging. A guiding hand might have made a difference, but he'd never had it in him to ask any of his friends to give up their own paths and stay.]

Anything using knives is-- particularly difficult. [Which is a great deal more than most people might think.] It's not like fighting. You can't listen to ingredients the way you can listen to an enemy's movements. Some of it can be done by touch, but it's a slow process. One requiring a great deal of practice.

[draganea]

...Huh. [Now she's actually starting to feel a little bad for the guy. But she's also a little thoughtful, thinking over what it would be like if she were in his position.]

What about using the different sounds and scents? Touch is the obvious way to use, but you have other senses. I'd imagine smell would be more useful—taste, too, though probably not at first.

Using knives and moving around...that I can imagine being harder. You need to improve your spatial awareness, and training will help with that.

[newrecipe]

[He nods in agreement.]

Smell is an important component, and sound comes into play during the process as well. [Certain things begin to snap in the pan when they're close to ready, for instance, and he can hear a pot of water boiling.] It will take practice to perfect, but you're quite right. Spatial awareness is-- something I often took for granted before I lost my sight.

[He's willing to work hard to get it back, but the process itself has been endlessly frustrating.]

I imagine training will help with a great deal.

[Not only his awareness, but his moods, the feeling of uselessness that's been threatening to overtake him. He needs to do something more with himself. He will not be considered an invalid, and he will not be pitied.]

[draganea]

[She's leaning forward a bit against the table, ankles crossed beneath her chair as she continues to think of how to help the younger way. With the say she idly twirls the fork, she almost looks more careless and relaxed, a contrast to her more usual gruff countenance and posture.

Too bad he can't see it.]

Hm...I have a few ideas in mind that should help. Working in the dark is something I'm used to. [Especially lately. Not quite the same, as she usually had at least some light. But there is also her own weapon, its far reach requiring her to be more aware of how far she can be as well as how to adjust when in close combat.]

Though while I'm thinking about it, are knives the only weapons you use? I thought you used something else...

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[He can feel the table shift ever-so-slightly beneath her weight, though it's hard to tell anything more from that. He can only imagine that it means she's showing a genuine interest, and he supposes that's enough for now.]

I'm glad to hear it. Anything you can offer, I'll be more than happy to consider.

[He pauses, just for a beat.]

Polearms, as well. Not quite as well as you, but proficiently.

[draganea]

Ah, that's right. I remember now. [There's light amusement as she teases her next thought.] Maybe if you're good enough I could turn you into the world's first blind dragoon.

[newrecipe]

[He laughs, and despite how dark and dismal the world has become, it's a warm, genuine sort of sound.]

Perhaps you could. Think I'm up to the task?

[draganea]

Depends. Do you?

[A light smirk with a slight challenging tone.]

[newrecipe]

[He smiles, followed by an easy shrug.]

I've never been inclined to give up easily. I like to think of myself as being up to any task.

[draganea]

You have a lot more attitude than you let on. [Not a bad thing, if anything it just makes things more interesting and a little amusing.] We'll see how well you really do. Impress me enough and maybe I'll show you a thing or two.

[newrecipe]

So I've been told.

[He's glad, at least, that she seems to approve-- easy camaraderie is something he's been without for quite some time now, it feels like.]

While not interested in setting myself up for a fall, I'll certainly do my best. You've seen me in combat before.

[He's no slouch.]

[draganea]

Only a little bit. [There's a dismissive tone, but it's more light teasing than genuine.] And only in a group. I want to see how you do on your own.

[His "real" individual strength, so to speak. Without the rest of the royal party either supporting or holding him back.]

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I'll do my utmost not to disappoint.

[The rest of their dinner goes without incident, and before they part ways, Ignis leaves her with his address-- a second-floor flat near the Leville.

When morning rolls around, he's up and dressed at an almost painfully responsible hour. Coffee is hot and waiting before she arrives, with breakfast being kept warm in the oven. It had taken him a little longer to prepare than he would have liked, but the end result had been to his liking, and for that, the effort had been worth it. More progress every day, even if it was just a bit at a time.]

[draganea]

[Being invited to coffee and breakfast had certainly been different. She even half-considered to change her mind about it and just drag him out. But since she, too, had gotten up early to send off her men to various errands and set everything up, the thought of coffee and a meal is actually rather tempting. And as she draws near the address, a small bubble of curiosity starts to form. She half-expects his place to be neat and organized, blind or not.

Her knuckles rap against the door and she stands patiently, one hand resting against her hip. C'mon Iggy, let's not keep a lady waiting.]

[newrecipe]

Just a moment!

[The opening of the door a few short moments later reveals that the apartment is, in fact, neat and well-cared for, though admittedly sparse. The bookshelves are half-empty, a thin layer of dust having collected on what is there. It's not quite what he had for himself back in Insomnia, but everything in the apartment is both functional and of reasonably good quality, considering where they are. Lestallum remains a bit warm for his tastes, and as a result the windows above the sink and over the back of the sofa have been left open.

He steps aside to usher her in, inclining his head towards the small table in the near-immaculate kitchen.]

Good morning. I trust the day finds you well?

[draganea]

[As she steps in, she can't help the small, wry laugh that escapes her.]

Do you always talk like that? A simple "How are you?" works.

[Seriously, he's so damn polite. And as she expected, his place is neat, but it is oddly empty. Then again, when you're blind you don't really need that much.]

But to answer your question, I'm fine and ready for that coffee.

[And while she doesn't mind the heat too much and had already dressed a little lighter than usual, there will be the sounds of buckles and straps unclasping as she removes parts of her armor and sets them on whatever available surface there was (if not a counter then the couch, and without really asking of course). Just the shoulder pads and gloves, nothing much. She had considered dressing down on the way over, but it was more time efficient to go as she was.

And when that is done, instead of heading to the table directly as one would think after saying that statement, she's going to be a little nosey and explore a bit.]