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.
His breath catches in his throat for half a moment as she leans in, unused to having anyone invade his personal space that closely. By all accounts, it's been a lonely year and a half. That, he's sure, is the only reason the sudden and unexpected change makes his pulse quicken.
Then she stands, and he frowns faintly.]
That's it? Hardly a reunion.
[Given the fact that she'd almost taken his arm clean off.]
Aw, miss me already? [There's that coy, teasing voice.]
You know what they say, time is money. [And now he'll hear the soft thuds of her heels as she starts to saunter off toward the door.] If you want more of mine, better give me a good reason to stick around.
[It's the only reason he has to give her, unless she's waiting for him to tell her that she was right-- but he's still sore enough about how indelicately she'd handled that situation to be hesitant to utter the words outright.]
[She leaves without him having a chance to reply, and finds himself sighing heavily in her wake.
Well. He supposes he should have expected that.
Once they reach town, it's one of her men that offers him assistance-- one from the medical bay, who offers himself as a crutch. Ignis finds himself irate about having to accept help, as usual, but struggles to make himself swallow his pride-- his injuries are too severe for his cane to be enough support to make it home. Thankfully, he makes it there without incident, the bottle Aranea had left him with in tow.
The next twenty-four hours are something of a blur. He'd found his apartment to be temporarily inhabited by one very panicked Iris Amicitia, who had stopped by while he was out to check in, only to discover that he'd gone off hunting, something she and her brother had both been insisting against since day one. The result was that she decided to make herself at home, fussing over him and insisting that a local doctor come in and give him a once-over, just to be sure. She then proceeded to take over his kitchen, leaving Ignis to stretch out on his sofa and spend that first evening drinking deeply from the bottle of brandy he'd been given as a parting gift.
Of course, a hunt only went wrong when there were people around to witness it.]
[Ignis is going to have to work a lot harder to have her company. She gave him a freebie before, gonna be tough getting another.
It's not completely intentional that she gives him a day off. While it is in part to allow him to heal and rest, she also had other business to attend to. Contacting the hunters about the Mindflayer, see what other threats have arisen or been taken care of, what plans for future expeditions.
So it's not until the following day that she decides she should see him. After all, as hard as she is, she isn't completely heartless. She messed up, he got hurt, she owes him. The bottle of brandy had been just been a temporary until she could procure something more suitable.
Which is even more bottles of alcohol.
All right, all right, maybe a new jacket. And shirt. And pants. She did kind of ruin the other ones and while his style isn't bad, who knows what kind of clothes people have been buying for him. Might as well make sure he doesn't lose that edge. And maybe also to accept his request. Not like she planned on rejecting it to begin with. And, finally, she also may have been a little concerned about his well-being. Of course she assumed that someone he knew would probably take care of him. Like his friends, or not-girlfriend-but-probably-wants-to-be. In which case, she's sure he's being babied and pampered in ways that her presence may actually bring relief.
Remembering where he lived, she's actually dress downed a bit. No need for her to wear her armor (it's getting cleaned up anyway), but that's really the only difference, keeping the standard black and red leather. At least it doesn't make her as readily recognizable, not that she cared whether she was or not. And not that it made a difference for Ignis since he can't see anyway. She could come walking in just a towel and he probably wouldn't know.
How sad.
Anyway, with the "gift bag" slung over her shoulder, she raps her knuckles on the door.]
[There's the sound of movement almost immediately after she knocks, a little too quick and sprightly to belong to someone as badly injured as Ignis had been. A voice can be heard, the very opposite of male, though the words themselves are muffled by the door.
The door itself opens a moment later, revealing a cheerful young woman with short dark hair, dressed mostly in black. She looks momentarily puzzled, but smiles brightly as she takes a step back, pulling the door open a bit further in the process.]
[Aranea had wondered if she would need to actually announce herself, but that's quickly replaced by wondering who is actually answering the door. Those sprightly steps definitely wouldn't be Ignis, even in his non-blind days (unless he was just really that happy to see her), but the voice gives her a clue. And enough of one that when Iris opens the door, she's surprised but not too surprised.]
[Iris gives an enthusiastic shake of her head. Aranea's cool demeanor doesn't seem to trouble her in the least, and she moves aside to usher her in.]
He's just resting. "Doctor's" orders. [Absolutely meaning they were hers.] If someone weren't here watching him, he would probably head right back out and try to go back to hunting daemons again. He'd probably be happy to have company, though. I think he might be getting a little tired of me already-- I'm Iris, by the way.
So you're the little housekeeper. [There's a small pause before she takes the hand and gives a firm shake.] I was only really here to drop something off and check on him.
[All right, she may have actually considered staying a little longer than that, but somehow it feels weird to admit that to the girl. Which is. Weird. She walks inside regardless since she is curious as to how he was doing.]
Well, not much of a housekeeper, but I like to stop by and help out when I'm in the area. Iggy always takes such good care of everyone else, I figure he could use some of the same now and then.
[Iris shakes her hand enthusiastically, and she laughs lightly in response to Aranea's question, giving another shake of her head.]
No, he's been a very good patient! Just stubborn, but that's nothing new. He's always been like that.
[Iris makes a point of sounding put-upon-- it's only then that Ignis' voice finally intervenes from the bedroom, the door to which sits open. "I'm blind, you realize, not deaf."
The girl looks only marginally apologetic before she turns her attention back to Aranea in full.]
I can let you visit in peace-- I was thinking of heading to the market, anyway. Just don't let him get out of bed, even if he tells you he's fine.
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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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You have a suggestion, I take it.
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[Her weight shifts so that she's leaning toward him.]
But we're almost to town so I need to head out. [A light tap of the bottle.] And you can keep that, so enjoy it.
[She then stands, ready to leave.
Also yes. Yes she's deliberately cutting the conversation off early like this. She's a horrible tease, isn't she?]
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His breath catches in his throat for half a moment as she leans in, unused to having anyone invade his personal space that closely. By all accounts, it's been a lonely year and a half. That, he's sure, is the only reason the sudden and unexpected change makes his pulse quicken.
Then she stands, and he frowns faintly.]
That's it? Hardly a reunion.
[Given the fact that she'd almost taken his arm clean off.]
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You know what they say, time is money. [And now he'll hear the soft thuds of her heels as she starts to saunter off toward the door.] If you want more of mine, better give me a good reason to stick around.
[Now she's definitely playing with him.]
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[It's the only reason he has to give her, unless she's waiting for him to tell her that she was right-- but he's still sore enough about how indelicately she'd handled that situation to be hesitant to utter the words outright.]
Train me-- once I've recovered.
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I'll think about it.
[AND SHE'S OFF AGAIN.]
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Well. He supposes he should have expected that.
Once they reach town, it's one of her men that offers him assistance-- one from the medical bay, who offers himself as a crutch. Ignis finds himself irate about having to accept help, as usual, but struggles to make himself swallow his pride-- his injuries are too severe for his cane to be enough support to make it home. Thankfully, he makes it there without incident, the bottle Aranea had left him with in tow.
The next twenty-four hours are something of a blur. He'd found his apartment to be temporarily inhabited by one very panicked Iris Amicitia, who had stopped by while he was out to check in, only to discover that he'd gone off hunting, something she and her brother had both been insisting against since day one. The result was that she decided to make herself at home, fussing over him and insisting that a local doctor come in and give him a once-over, just to be sure. She then proceeded to take over his kitchen, leaving Ignis to stretch out on his sofa and spend that first evening drinking deeply from the bottle of brandy he'd been given as a parting gift.
Of course, a hunt only went wrong when there were people around to witness it.]
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It's not completely intentional that she gives him a day off. While it is in part to allow him to heal and rest, she also had other business to attend to. Contacting the hunters about the Mindflayer, see what other threats have arisen or been taken care of, what plans for future expeditions.
So it's not until the following day that she decides she should see him. After all, as hard as she is, she isn't completely heartless. She messed up, he got hurt, she owes him. The bottle of brandy had been just been a temporary until she could procure something more suitable.
Which is even more bottles of alcohol.
All right, all right, maybe a new jacket. And shirt. And pants. She did kind of ruin the other ones and while his style isn't bad, who knows what kind of clothes people have been buying for him. Might as well make sure he doesn't lose that edge. And maybe also to accept his request. Not like she planned on rejecting it to begin with. And, finally, she also may have been a little concerned about his well-being. Of course she assumed that someone he knew would probably take care of him. Like his friends, or not-girlfriend-but-probably-wants-to-be. In which case, she's sure he's being babied and pampered in ways that her presence may actually bring relief.
Remembering where he lived, she's actually dress downed a bit. No need for her to wear her armor (it's getting cleaned up anyway), but that's really the only difference, keeping the standard black and red leather. At least it doesn't make her as readily recognizable, not that she cared whether she was or not. And not that it made a difference for Ignis since he can't see anyway. She could come walking in just a towel and he probably wouldn't know.
How sad.
Anyway, with the "gift bag" slung over her shoulder, she raps her knuckles on the door.]
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The door itself opens a moment later, revealing a cheerful young woman with short dark hair, dressed mostly in black. She looks momentarily puzzled, but smiles brightly as she takes a step back, pulling the door open a bit further in the process.]
Oh! Are you here to see Iggy?
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Something like that.
[A cool answer as always, but not unfriendly.]
He's not high off painkillers is he?
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He's just resting. "Doctor's" orders. [Absolutely meaning they were hers.] If someone weren't here watching him, he would probably head right back out and try to go back to hunting daemons again. He'd probably be happy to have company, though. I think he might be getting a little tired of me already-- I'm Iris, by the way.
[She smiles brightly, extending a hand to shake.]
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[All right, she may have actually considered staying a little longer than that, but somehow it feels weird to admit that to the girl. Which is. Weird. She walks inside regardless since she is curious as to how he was doing.]
Hasn't been too much of big baby, has he?
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[Iris shakes her hand enthusiastically, and she laughs lightly in response to Aranea's question, giving another shake of her head.]
No, he's been a very good patient! Just stubborn, but that's nothing new. He's always been like that.
[Iris makes a point of sounding put-upon-- it's only then that Ignis' voice finally intervenes from the bedroom, the door to which sits open. "I'm blind, you realize, not deaf."
The girl looks only marginally apologetic before she turns her attention back to Aranea in full.]
I can let you visit in peace-- I was thinking of heading to the market, anyway. Just don't let him get out of bed, even if he tells you he's fine.
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I SAW THAT
:D
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