[closed]

[sistershoggoth]

CHARACTERS: Alnair Brood, Asuka, Murphy, Bellamy.
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY(S) :041/042
SUMMARY: Annie organizing other people's lives for them because that's the only way she can deal with her own.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.

Comments

[somnifacient]

[Luna's voice unexpectedly echoes in his head, and it almost causes Noctis to freeze. It's only because Nyx's comment requires an immediate answer that he manages to push through the pang of loss threatening to bloom within.

He steps forward, this stubbornness manifesting outwardly.]

I'm fine with that. [Noctis has always relied on his magic. Once he had mastered the ability to warp, to phase, the change weapons on the fly, it became the core of his training. But he knows that the Glaive before him makes a legitimate point, and he'll be the last one to argue against it. The last time he was without his magic was a... less than pleasant experience. Dark halls, broken MTs, daemons, the voice of a certain man taunting him as he ventured forward with only the Ring to protect him.]

...Might as well start today. As long as you promise not to go easy on me.

[servitor]

[The loss shoots through him, echoed by his own loss. He's had years to push back and to use it, too.

He gave himself the time to mourn. Maybe not long enough, who knows. But he had to do it. Nyx had to grieve before he could fight.]

Don't forget to go easy on yourself. I can't look after you if you can't look after yourself first.

[That's all he can say on the matter.]

After that? [Nyx smirks.] I'll train you the way we were trained in the Glaive: day and night.

[somnifacient]

Like I can afford to go easy on myself.

[It's said with the hint of a skewed grin, but the sentiment is true enough. He needs to be as strong as possible, as capable as he can manage. He needs to push himself to his limit, so he can die when he returns home.

Such is the truth of the matter.]

And sure, I've always wondered what it was like to be a Glaive.

[In his hand, his Engine Blade appears. It's the first and last instance of magic he'll use for this match, at Nyx's request.]

Just as long as you let me sleep in, I don't have a problem with it.

[servitor]

Sure.

[His grin is all kinds of mischievous, even a little wicked. Nyx unsheathes both of his knives, one of the city, one of his home. After all these years, they're still sharp and gleaming.]

I'll let you get up at 5:00 instead of 4:30.

[somnifacient]

You'll have to drag me out of bed, then.

[He falls into a defensive stance, wanting Nyx to make the first move. The fingers of his free hand flex a little.]

At least make it 6:00.

[servitor]

[You know that grin he's got?

It's turned even wilder, more menacing.]

Beat me and we'll make it 6:00.

[A sword in the right hands is a deadly weapon. But it's clunky, at least to him. So much metal to drag and move with, to be held down by a weight that could prove to slow a person down.

Knives, on the other hand... there's a reason he came from Galahd with a knife and got another one made to match.

He runs, faster than most would likely expect. His sprint is doggedly aimed for Noctis.

Until he feints, swerves right in quick, deliberate steps in an attempt to slash at the king.]