Really? You don't even swear? [Some light dry humor that could have gone dirtier, but she's focused on his injury. She lightly touches the area, feeling to make sure it really is set in there.
Nor has she forgotten about what we said earlier. Trusting her. Not that it's overly important and she more or less dismissed it, but the sentiment it invokes is what helps make her a little gentler than she might have been otherwise.]
But it should be set, so don't move it. I think I can make a sling...
[The skirt gives her a lot of material to work with at least.]
[He swore plenty when it was appropriate-- despite the fact that the point of swearing was to be decidedly inappropriate. He nods carefully, confirming as he remains very still, not wanting to jostle it.]
Appreciated. Once that's done, all we're missing is a bottle of brandy.
[And some real medical attention, but he would like to drink now, please.]
Don't worry, I got plenty. [There's a small pause as she glances up.] And right on time. Can you stand?
[As if on cue, the giant lights of the airship shine down upon them, the engines humming as it slowly descends. Already she can hear her men shouting orders and boots hitting the ground to provide whatever support they can. This may be the first hint for Ignis to realize she may not have told them that she was out here. Exactly.]
[Just a dismissive shake of her head as she stands and readies to help him try to hobble along.]
They knew I was out. [Just not what for exactly.] Now come on.
[If he can, she will help him to the airship. Otherwise a stretcher will be brought out to take him in. All the while ex-Imperial soldiers looked on with slight curiosity.]
[He gives a brief, derisive snort, though now is hardly the time for a lecture-- and he was hardly the person to give it, given he had also ventured out into the wilderness to hunt on his own.
He could almost feel the stares on them as he uses his cane to steady himself, allowing Aranea to assist him. A stretcher, it turned out, wouldn't be necessary, but he could feel his strength leaving him as the adrenaline began to wear off.]
You'll get no argument from me. The sooner we return, the better.
[He was certain he could get someone to make a house call, but all he wanted now was his bed and the contents of his liquor cabinet.]
[There's no real response from Aranea, but mostly because she's barking out orders and wondering why her medics aren't moving when there's clearly and injured man to be dealt with. There are questions posed at her, but she dismisses them.
Eventually they'll be at the medical ward where Ignis could be treated. At the very least he can be cleaned up, get x-rays, stitched, given a proper sling, and whatever else needs immediate attention. Depending on how deep the cuts or how bad the shoulder is, he may only need just a final examination from a doctor in Lestallum.
But she won't stick around for that. Instead—]
You can trust my men, so relax. I need to check in with the others, but they'll take you to a room later. You might remember it. [Whatever room Noctis used to nap in probably.] I'll come by there later.
[She's a bit of a mess after helping Ignis and she wouldn't mind a quick shower herself.]
[He offers her a wordless nod of thanks as she departs, finding himself weary and suddenly overwhelmed by the medics descending on him. He braces himself and lets them go about their work; they're expedient, at the very least, and within half an hour he's been cleaned up, stitched, bandaged and set mostly to rights.
Fifteen minutes later and he finds himself settled in the very room Aranea had mentioned. Her men had given him something for the pain, thankfully, and he sat propped up on the bed, a glass of water in one hand as he rested with his head against the wall behind him.
This wasn't at all how he had imagined his hunt concluding, but he could have been much worse off.]
[It takes her a little longer, but when she finally knocks on the door and enters, she's showered and changed. Not that it matters what her appearance is since Ignis can't see it, nor is it really that much different than what she usually wears.]
So, how are you holdin' up? [She shakes the bottle in her hand, the warm liquid swishing inside.] Brought a get well present.
[He doesn't need to see the bottle to know what it is, and he offers her an appreciative smile, genuine as it is weary.]
Well enough, all things considered. Your men do good work.
[He would heal, but the idea of resting for as long as it would take for him to do so was a bit daunting for someone who liked to stay as active as he did.]
[She'll even let him keep it—more out of knowledge that he'd probably like the entire thing on hand than actual generosity.
She walks over and without even a moment's hesitation sits down on the edge of the bed next to him. There she'll gently nudge the bottle against his good hand so he'll know it's there before she leans a little so that she can better see the job the medics did. Satisfied, she sits back, weight shifting away from him.]]
I heard that there isn't any nerve damage, so at least I didn't paralyze you even further. [A dry and somewhat...dark joke, all things considered, but hey. That's how she rolls. Being genuine and not sarcastic isn't her strong suit.] But this was my fault, so if there's anything, just say the world. Least I could do for letting it happen in the first place.
[While she does feel actual guilt for almost killing him, confused or not, it's also a bit of a sore point for her own pride that she lost her senses like that.]
[His fingers close easily around the neck of the bottle, steadying it. The joke itself does little to mask the sentiment behind the apology, and he grimaces in reply.]
It was hardly your fault. You were the instrument of my injury, but it wasn't your choice.
[And that, he feels, is the crux of the matter, why she had been so angry in the wake of the Mindflayer's defeat.]
Even you could do little to defend against that. You are no lesser for it. We both lived, and for that, I'm grateful.
[Outwardly, she maintains her cool composure. Inwardly, however, she can already feel that frustration bubbling. She had trained to deal with daemons, even before she joined the army. She may not have studied or researched them, but through combat she had known how they worked. That included the Mindflayer's specialty of dulling the senses and altering one's mind. It's really the source of their namesake. Usually she's prepared, even equipped to resist at times, yet she had still been caught off guard. Perhaps it was due to the fact that it was a daemon of higher caliber.
Fingers dig just slightly into the bedding before she closes her eyes and casts the thoughts away.]
So, you finally learned to fight, huh? Not too shabby back there. [Until, you know. She started attacking him.
Also, that is a very deliberate and noticeable change of topic.]
Hah, I can imagine that. But if they had the confidence in their skills, then it wouldn't be a problem. [Clearly she does since she had offered. Or maybe she wouldn't have felt that responsible if something did happen. ...Kind of a toss up.]
Could use a little improvement, but not too bad. I'm more surprised at how you were able to use magic that efficiently.
[But she's looking at them, rather curious about how he's going on about fighting.]
You must have a good sense as to where it is, especially being able to throw the spells with that much accuracy. What do you base it off—sound? Smell? Just a lucky guess?
[He smiles faintly, finally balancing the bottle against his leg to uncap it for himself.]
Sound plays a large role, but daemons also have a certain effect on the air around them, much like magic. To say that they twist it isn't quite correct, but their presence is very strong-- and with some, smell certainly enters into the equation, as well.
Hm... Interesting. And impressive. [A quick since she's actually not meaning to sound too dismissive. She really is a bit interested in his technique, not really having fought alongside a blind man before.]
I do understand what you mean about them "twisting" the air. Usually how I know one is going to show up soon. [Handy if also a bit annoying when there are a lot.] And I have to say I was surprised to see you just jump in there at first.
Not being able to see means that there's less shock value to cause hesitation, I suppose.
[That smile quirks upwards a bit on one side. If his shoulder weren't injured, he might have paired it with a fluid shrug.]
Closing the distance means I know exactly where the enemy is, within arm's reach. Fighting at range is safer, and useful, but closing in quickly will usually allow me to cripple the enemy in some way. I have good reflexes. Better now, perhaps, which is saying something.
Not a bad tactic. Just wouldn't expect such a seemingly reckless move from a stiff guy like you. [He may not see it, but he could probably hear the wry smirk on her lips.]
Especially up against a high ranked daemon like that. ["Rank" as in what the hunters had designated it as.] But clearly you've had some practice since you kicked me out of your place.
'Stiff.' Tactics, as you may recall, were a part of my job description in service to the crown. Strategy is not always about care and subtlety.
[But he doesn't have to tell her that. Being military, she already knows. His smile turns wry at the mention of their last meeting.]
If I'm not mistaken, you would have left on your own if I hadn't said anything. [Neither of them had been in good spirits at that point.] Three dozen, perhaps a bit more. There's no shortage of daemons to be slain.
It still runs counter to your image. [Your facial scars may give him a bit of a "cooler" image, but the rest of him is still stiff and proper to her.]
And you're right, I would. [Because he was being a big baby.] But since you're out here, at least that means you listened. [Because she knows she's right and she is not above effectively saying, "I told you so." However, she isn't holding anything against him. If she had, it all flew out the window the moment she realized she had attacked him.
A notion further grounded when she issues the following playful challenge.]
You have a lot of catching up to do if you want to get on my level, though. So don't take too long. [Healing up that is.]
[He's feeling well enough to take teasing in stride, at the very least-- and he's not incorrect in saying so. He pauses for a moment before continuing, because admitting that she'd been right was still difficult. Pride, unfortunately, was his achilles heel, having spent so much of his life being self-sufficient and taking care of others that asking for help for himself seemed unthinkable.]
I needed time. [He'll admit that much.] I've never been one to ask for assistance. It was-- a difficult transition. Still, I'll catch up soon enough. If nothing else, I'm a fast learner.
[She can relate to that sense of independence and not asking for help. Pride as well. Really, she probably wouldn't have been so different as him at first. ...She just wouldn't have thrown a tantrum when the flaws were pointed out.]
It's gonna be slow if you keep relying on those hunters.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Nor has she forgotten about what we said earlier. Trusting her. Not that it's overly important and she more or less dismissed it, but the sentiment it invokes is what helps make her a little gentler than she might have been otherwise.]
But it should be set, so don't move it. I think I can make a sling...
[The skirt gives her a lot of material to work with at least.]
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[He swore plenty when it was appropriate-- despite the fact that the point of swearing was to be decidedly inappropriate. He nods carefully, confirming as he remains very still, not wanting to jostle it.]
Appreciated. Once that's done, all we're missing is a bottle of brandy.
[And some real medical attention, but he would like to drink now, please.]
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[As if on cue, the giant lights of the airship shine down upon them, the engines humming as it slowly descends. Already she can hear her men shouting orders and boots hitting the ground to provide whatever support they can. This may be the first hint for Ignis to realize she may not have told them that she was out here. Exactly.]
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I may need assistance.
[He starts to pull himself up regardless, listening to the shouts of her men as they close in-- the pieces beginning to fall into place.]
They didn't know you'd come?
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They knew I was out. [Just not what for exactly.] Now come on.
[If he can, she will help him to the airship. Otherwise a stretcher will be brought out to take him in. All the while ex-Imperial soldiers looked on with slight curiosity.]
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He could almost feel the stares on them as he uses his cane to steady himself, allowing Aranea to assist him. A stretcher, it turned out, wouldn't be necessary, but he could feel his strength leaving him as the adrenaline began to wear off.]
You'll get no argument from me. The sooner we return, the better.
[He was certain he could get someone to make a house call, but all he wanted now was his bed and the contents of his liquor cabinet.]
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Eventually they'll be at the medical ward where Ignis could be treated. At the very least he can be cleaned up, get x-rays, stitched, given a proper sling, and whatever else needs immediate attention. Depending on how deep the cuts or how bad the shoulder is, he may only need just a final examination from a doctor in Lestallum.
But she won't stick around for that. Instead—]
You can trust my men, so relax. I need to check in with the others, but they'll take you to a room later. You might remember it. [Whatever room Noctis used to nap in probably.] I'll come by there later.
[She's a bit of a mess after helping Ignis and she wouldn't mind a quick shower herself.]
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Fifteen minutes later and he finds himself settled in the very room Aranea had mentioned. Her men had given him something for the pain, thankfully, and he sat propped up on the bed, a glass of water in one hand as he rested with his head against the wall behind him.
This wasn't at all how he had imagined his hunt concluding, but he could have been much worse off.]
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So, how are you holdin' up? [She shakes the bottle in her hand, the warm liquid swishing inside.] Brought a get well present.
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Well enough, all things considered. Your men do good work.
[He would heal, but the idea of resting for as long as it would take for him to do so was a bit daunting for someone who liked to stay as active as he did.]
Everything should mend, given time.
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She walks over and without even a moment's hesitation sits down on the edge of the bed next to him. There she'll gently nudge the bottle against his good hand so he'll know it's there before she leans a little so that she can better see the job the medics did. Satisfied, she sits back, weight shifting away from him.]]
I heard that there isn't any nerve damage, so at least I didn't paralyze you even further. [A dry and somewhat...dark joke, all things considered, but hey. That's how she rolls. Being genuine and not sarcastic isn't her strong suit.] But this was my fault, so if there's anything, just say the world. Least I could do for letting it happen in the first place.
[While she does feel actual guilt for almost killing him, confused or not, it's also a bit of a sore point for her own pride that she lost her senses like that.]
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It was hardly your fault. You were the instrument of my injury, but it wasn't your choice.
[And that, he feels, is the crux of the matter, why she had been so angry in the wake of the Mindflayer's defeat.]
Even you could do little to defend against that. You are no lesser for it. We both lived, and for that, I'm grateful.
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Fingers dig just slightly into the bedding before she closes her eyes and casts the thoughts away.]
So, you finally learned to fight, huh? Not too shabby back there. [Until, you know. She started attacking him.
Also, that is a very deliberate and noticeable change of topic.]
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[The last time they'd met, Aranea had been the only one willing to risk it.]
Nobody wants to be responsible for facilitating a blind man getting himself killed.
[The change in topic does not go unnoticed, and he makes a mental note of the suspected trigger.]
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Could use a little improvement, but not too bad. I'm more surprised at how you were able to use magic that efficiently.
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[But he'd managed all the same, despite the lack of consistent support.]
I've had some practice in that area. I've had to rely on it more, with the loss of my sight.
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[But she's looking at them, rather curious about how he's going on about fighting.]
You must have a good sense as to where it is, especially being able to throw the spells with that much accuracy. What do you base it off—sound? Smell? Just a lucky guess?
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[He smiles faintly, finally balancing the bottle against his leg to uncap it for himself.]
Sound plays a large role, but daemons also have a certain effect on the air around them, much like magic. To say that they twist it isn't quite correct, but their presence is very strong-- and with some, smell certainly enters into the equation, as well.
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I do understand what you mean about them "twisting" the air. Usually how I know one is going to show up soon. [Handy if also a bit annoying when there are a lot.] And I have to say I was surprised to see you just jump in there at first.
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[That smile quirks upwards a bit on one side. If his shoulder weren't injured, he might have paired it with a fluid shrug.]
Closing the distance means I know exactly where the enemy is, within arm's reach. Fighting at range is safer, and useful, but closing in quickly will usually allow me to cripple the enemy in some way. I have good reflexes. Better now, perhaps, which is saying something.
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Especially up against a high ranked daemon like that. ["Rank" as in what the hunters had designated it as.] But clearly you've had some practice since you kicked me out of your place.
[Ah yes, she is definitely bringing that back.]
How many hunts have you been on?
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'Stiff.' Tactics, as you may recall, were a part of my job description in service to the crown. Strategy is not always about care and subtlety.
[But he doesn't have to tell her that. Being military, she already knows. His smile turns wry at the mention of their last meeting.]
If I'm not mistaken, you would have left on your own if I hadn't said anything. [Neither of them had been in good spirits at that point.] Three dozen, perhaps a bit more. There's no shortage of daemons to be slain.
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And you're right, I would. [Because he was being a big baby.] But since you're out here, at least that means you listened. [Because she knows she's right and she is not above effectively saying, "I told you so." However, she isn't holding anything against him. If she had, it all flew out the window the moment she realized she had attacked him.
A notion further grounded when she issues the following playful challenge.]
You have a lot of catching up to do if you want to get on my level, though. So don't take too long. [Healing up that is.]
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[He's feeling well enough to take teasing in stride, at the very least-- and he's not incorrect in saying so. He pauses for a moment before continuing, because admitting that she'd been right was still difficult. Pride, unfortunately, was his achilles heel, having spent so much of his life being self-sufficient and taking care of others that asking for help for himself seemed unthinkable.]
I needed time. [He'll admit that much.] I've never been one to ask for assistance. It was-- a difficult transition. Still, I'll catch up soon enough. If nothing else, I'm a fast learner.
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It's gonna be slow if you keep relying on those hunters.
[She is totally not baiting him, nope.]
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I SAW THAT
:D
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