#sicsemper

[aequitaes]

“why do you continue on like a bleating sheep trapped under a dromas’ tail? we both know this was your fault.” / take a grand guess. <3

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐦 𝐊𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐬, the colors drained from the world - sun-bleached stone, rust-streaked metal, and wilted banners stirring faintly in the dry wind. The air hung heavy with the scent of dust and decay, every step stirring the silence of a city long abandoned but not quite forgotten.

The city lay in ruins, its once-proud structures swallowed by time and tangled in the slow, relentless crawl of moss and vine. It was the only place Phainon truly believed Mydei could be free. Markings still clung to the stone, ancient carvings that told stories long fused into legends - tales of how this land came to perish. These carvings acted as a silent testament to the civilization that once thrived here, offering glimpses into their culture, beliefs, and struggles. They served as a bridge between the past and present, allowing those who stumbled upon them to piece together the history of the fallen empire. For Phainon, these stories were not just remnants of the past but keys to understanding the path forward and the potential for Mydei's liberation.

It wasn’t something Phainon often spoke of. Not to Caelus, and not even to Mydei himself. In the silence that settled over Kremnos, he caught it in Mydei’s eyes: that flicker of recognition, a quiet ache buried beneath his fire-hardened resolve. These ruins weren’t just remnants to him - they were fragments of something unfinished. Not merely as a record of loss, but a thread of possibility. A future reclaimed from the ash.

In those rare, quiet interludes between battles, Phainon would linger beside him fingers brush over ancient script, reading meaning - and asking for the occasional translation - into the weathered stone. No grand declarations, no heavy-handed comfort. Just presence. A shared moment beneath faded banners and broken archways, where their silence carried more than words could. And in that stillness, Phainon let Mydei know that his longing hadn't been forgotten. He wasn’t alone in carrying it.

Their journey was a trial — a gauntlet of obstacles both physical and personal, each trying to outpace the other on the path to Nikador. A constant, unspoken wager: who would land the final blow? The bond between Phainon and Mydei ran deeper than simple camaraderie - it was forged in quiet moments between conflict, tempered by hardship, and sealed by the kind of understanding that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. Phainon, ever the picture of composed amusement, took it all in stride. If anything, he found greater satisfaction in outmatching Mydei with words - a quiet victory he never felt the need to boast about - and offered little more than a faint smile when the inevitable sarcasm came in return.

Unfortunately for Mydei, he continued to fall into the traps Phainon laid with ease. Lines like “You're my only hope to transcribe this ancient relic,” or “Are you tired already?” were met with predictable sneers - and yet, somehow, they worked every time. Mydei’s frustration only fueled Phainon’s quiet amusement. Each verbal jab, each moment of exasperation, only served to deepen the unspoken bond between them, a delicate balance of rivalry and respect that neither could deny.

The enemies that met them now were not like the ones before - they moved with purpose, as though aware of who approached and why. No longer just mindless remnants or opportunistic scavengers, these foes fought with strategy, with spite, and with strength drawn from something ancient that still clung to the bones of Castrum Kremnos.

They came from sudden silence - slipping from broken archways and ivy-twined ruins like shadows wearing flesh. Quick and coordinated. One lunged for Mydei wielding a blade that sang through the air like scorched metal, while another circled Phainon with a reverence that felt almost religious. A test. A challenge.

Phainon moved deliberately - not slow, but unhurried, like a man certain of the outcome. The clash of steel echoed through the hollowed city as he parried and turned, weaving light and precision into something almost ceremonial. The climax wasn’t explosive. It was clean - a decisive thrust between the ribs of the last adversary, delivered with the grace of someone who had long since learned not to waste motion on pride.

As the enemy collapsed, the stone beneath them groaned. One of the broken arches, already cracked by age and strain, gave way under the shock of combat. With a low roar, it crumbled inward, slamming into the ground with a violent crash that sent up clouds of dust and shards of splintered rock.

Phainon stepped back, the weight of the moment settling around him. Bright blue eyes lifted to the wall of rubble now sealing off the path ahead - the only direct route to Nikador, now buried beneath stone and time. Dust hung in the air like ash, and silence pressed in again, broken only by the distant creak of the city shifting beneath itself.

He exhaled once through his nose. Not frustration - calculation.

“Now, if we’d just done what I suggested,” he said, a hand settling on his hips, “instead of you getting all high and mighty - or should I say, Mydei - we wouldn’t be in this situation.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. His tone was light, but his edge was unmistakable.

“why do you continue on like a bleating sheep trapped under a dromas’ tail? we both know this was your fault.”

“My fault?” he echoed with a hearty laugh. “Still able to crack a joke, I see, all hope isn’t lost yet.” He allowed himself a brief smile - first at the absurdity of it all, then at Mydei directly.

“Come on,” he said, turning on his heel and sheathing his sword with a familiar, practiced motion. “Once you’re done hosting your pity party, perhaps we can get back to our challenge.” Without waiting for a response, he started on a narrow detour snaking around the fallen stone - his silhouette disappearing briefly into the dust and dimming light.

[aicidos]

wait 17) things you said that I wish you hadn’t / zack @ reno JFDKG

things you said .  .  . ♡  * @sicsemper.

the sun had never quite suited him right, an ill-fitting skin that distorted his figure and rendered him unfamiliar, but not any less threatening. that, however, was the last impression he should be giving— our vacations overlapped, he was sure the other turks had told zack, as they were instructed. he was also sure, by the scar on zack’s jaw, that the ingenuity that could’ve once had him possibly believe that excuse died entirely when angeal did.

“ooh, whaddaya know, that’d suit her.” 

by now, he was anything but discrete about the state of affairs: neither truly wanted to be here.

he crouched in front of the stand of souvenirs that zack inspected, plucking the seashell hair clip, his fingers applying idle pressure until he almost felt the shell yield; a senseless game he liked playing with all that suggested fragility. he only felt pleased when zack showed he wasn’t, flicking the clip towards him to confirm the sharpness of his reflexes, and stood, the remnants of his mocking grin disappearing then: he would never understand men like him. men who want to have their cake and eat it too— who are let into the ins and outs of shinra and hope for normalcy, even if done dinstantly.

to his eyes, that was zack’s flaw. all this hoping, futile by virtue of being at the mercy of shinra dealing the cards.

well. 

“could be a lovely reunion gift once you’re allowed out of this sandbox.” reno wiped at the base of his neck, the back of his hand dampened with sweat. and then he really did miss the cool steel of midgar. “anyway. let’s keep it movin’, won’tcha? ’m getting thirsty with all this walkin’ around.”

[aequitaes]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 '𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑰'𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒚' 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. It was almost as if the architect expected more - but Archon's he knew the man too well not to expect any less than what he received - which wasn't much. Contemplation then, allowing his words to sink in just a little more? Does that seem too far-fetched to consider? It's entirely possible, but Kaveh was undoubtedly a dreamer.

Quivering lips, a steady breath. Certainly, this was not an overreaction, but given the lack of emotion returned, he would later feel nothing but foolish. With a buzz from the wine in his system, he may have been more forward in his approach. The architect was also not exactly unexpected to be loud and make Alhaitham aware of his presence, however. A different response from Alhaitham might have allowed him to rationalize. Rather, his words were absorbed more slowly by Kaveh. Finances? Is that all he thinks I genuinely care about?

As cold air seeps between his lips, he catches himself in a choked breath and asks, "Contended with?" With his lips remaining parted, they suddenly feel dry. Stumped by this new information, trying to figure out what to do. In the clenched fist, nails dug more profound, making him unaware if he had pierced his skin. To stay stable, he needed some form of support. Though he didn't feel that at present - Alhaitham had already considered this long-term.

"The house -- is that what?" Was Kaveh not clear enough in his statement? Was it not apparent that he was more concerned about his roommate's well-being than where he might live - or be able to afford - after his death? Alhaitham's preparations for the future... Financial safeguards in the event of an untimely demise. He wanted to hate this more because the younger of the two had thought so far ahead - That he'd considered him?!

No. No! That wasn't important to him at the moment. "Mora is... Mora is just a..." There was an obvious overdosage here. As he stormed through the city streets of Sumeru, his bubbling anger pushed him to express his concerns and his upset, hoping for some attempt to be made -- even a sliver -- to understand his motivations for his actions.

His fist is released from tension as he raises his hand. Those liquid spikes would only leak down his cheeks when he closed his eyes and pressed his palm on his head. "You just don't get it, do you? I know you and I work in different ways - good and bad as that may be, but my concern was not who I'd stay with if you died."

As red jasper revealed themselves once more, they were far too blurry. As he felt an increasing headache arise, the hand pressing to his head lowered, rubbing the side of his hand against his eyes. Trying not to look foolish, trying not to feel embarrassed. Is it worth it at all? As Kaveh explained his truth, would Alhaitham carry on as if nothing were wrong - as if nothing happened? He was unable to predict. A very quiet sniff was followed by a slight movement of his nostril. The words he said were his last on the matter, "I'm going to my room." the material of his attire swished in his path away from the scene.

𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒, 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃; jade eyes never once leaving the other's jasper. remaining silent, his head tilts minutely to the left as kaveh rattles on, clearly... distressed. he was accustomed to kaveh's tendency to dramatize ––– and then smoothly breezing through it with a wave of his own hand. he was not, however, entirely used to the well of tears that his eyes caught at the corner of kaveh's own. those he had seen more rarely, though they were not entirely unfamiliar to him. his fingers twitch over the cover of the book still held closed in his lap. yet, by contrast, there is a stoicism that masks his own thoughts as his gaze drops down to the tremble in kaveh's closed fists.

                              is he... worried about what could have happened to him?

that much was clear, though the logical reasons for such were entirely unnecessary ––– he had addressed kaveh's security should something happen to himself a long time ago. not that he had deigned to tell kaveh that he had done so. therefore this... result should have likely been expected as an inevitability. an oversight on his own part, then. but this anxiety rolling off kaveh's shoulders in waves wasn't necessary.

❛ stop worrying, ❜    a chastisement that is flat, but gentle all the same.    ❛ your financial security has already been contended with. ❜    his reassurance is accompanied by a slight furrow of his brow. it smooths itself out in the blink of an eye.    ❛ in the event of my passing, the house will he left in your name. given your contributions to the project that built it, i felt this was only logical. ❜    his wealth, additionally, would be left in a savings fund that kaveh would be able to access under certain conditions. as much as he feels the needs to explain like a discontented churn of his stomach, he fails to mention the prior.   ❛ around the second year of you living here, it became apparent to me it would be longer than we'd both originally anticipated, ❜    he says instead, voice level and calm.    ❛ so i... adjusted my will. ❜    the idea had, admittedly, only occurred to him ––– plagued, it had plagued ––– after cyno had rolled his eyes and made a comment about how they were 'married in all but name.' the apparent truth of the statement had nagged at the back of his mind and raised alarm every time kaveh came home looking sullen and dejected because the latest project had fallen through; or he had rejected it on accounts of moral ambiguity. alhaitham had held out for a mere month before setting out to put his own mind at ease.

in the present moment, his ears are attuned to the sound of his own nails scratching ever so lightly over his book, the way his fingers slide gently over the imprints on the cover. the point being–––    ❛ you don't need to worry. ❜    though he remains unclear about... which instance kaveh is referring to. the hint of cyno and tighnari tells him nothing, as cyno himself had been involved in the most recent dire situations he'd found himself in. then again, he supposes that while such behavior was expected of the general mahamatra, it was less so of the akademiya's scribe. or acting grand sage.

eyes sweeping the foot of the bed, he lingers for a moment on the clenched fists of kaveh's hands as he debates trying to find answers to the question that lingers just the same. lashes fluttering, his sea green gaze flickers back up to kaveh's own, deciding it best to let it. for now.

[kuhatoarchive]

“hey! are you alright?” rushing to her side, his hand hovers just over her shoulder. “that was a close call.” / cowgirl nibelheim shenanigans round 2 sliding back in your inbox like a dollar bill under a closed door <3

   unprompted.   ♡  * always accepting !  @sicsemper​.

   she knew that, as soon as the flap of wings could be heard, it was already too late. needle kisses liked to stab more than they did scratch, and, worst of all, they moved in groups. if something was timed right, more so than her gasp after dodging the thrusted beaks and tripping, it was zack’s instinct. no blows landed on him, but it felt as though the wounds she should have gotten were someone else’s. from the confinement of his blade’s shadow, everything seemed to slow down, even her unrest, that low simmering frustration at what felt like a defeat, a failure on her end.

   in truth, tifa thought she had dreamed about this, once. she thought she would be happier– if she should be happier, still. the heroics were not lost on her, nor his title, the achievements behind it which she could only speculate of. a perfect image and skill to match, only second to sephiroth’s for all she knew. 

   and yet.

   longing for heroes meant reinhabiting the loneliness after the boys’ departure. a harsher truth: longing or not, the loneliness would be there, overgrown now as a second stomach, albeit managed. their absence bred another hunger, she supposed– the beginning of digging inwards, only to be met with the realization that waiting idly meant atrophy. at worst, it meant nothing. the drift of days without an end in sight, or a feasible alternative. the body was all she had, ultimately. even so, looking back, she found her eyes wandering away to nibelheim’s entrance. waiting, hoping. always in that order. the ache of her limbs didn’t seem so worthwhile then, and that scared her above everything. 

   zack’s approach, the dry impact of his sole against his earth, reached her before his voice did. touch, however, was halted, suspended in the air just above her shoulder. “y-yeah, sorry,” she stuttered out, biting down a wince from the small scrapes atop her knees as she stood. “and here i thought i was being careful.” patting down herself, she breathed out tension, letting the chilly air sweep it down the mountain. her feet were already moving, gaze cast forward when she hummed, “...thanks, mr. hero.”

[archoniic]

𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐘? No. He had thought it a reckless pursuit, regardless whether he understood the motivations behind it or not. A small ‘hm’ at his answer; gaze shifting from the landscape to Xiao – then back again. The price had almost been too high; for what good was an answer if the one who had found it would be lost anyway? He looked too small, slumped in such a way; he’d recognise that anywhere. Punishment. Words of beration would be no use, but neither would he offer words of comfort. Perhaps another might; but self-punishment was much deeper than anything anyone else could hand out. Even him, and he could see Xiao was punishing himself enough. 

Though; words spoken had Zhongli realise that Xiao was more concerned over troubling him. Concern. That’s what Zhongli had felt for the Yaksha before him. Releasing a sigh as he closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly. You were simply reckless, and I worried. That was not debatable in his mind; but burdened was not a word he would use either. 

❝ You found the answers you sought. ❞  In that sense, he supposed it was worth the effort; had he been lost however – that would have been different. The cost; not simply to him – but Liyue would have been much too great.  Would he not have done the same if he wished for an answer? If there was a chance for one? Zhongli had known, much like Xiao, what befell the others. Yet the difference between the two of them; Zhongli had been content to simply believe he found the same fate as the rest. 

He, too, watched the leaf fall; it seemed fitting in some way. Almost like a final chapter had finally closed, Zhongli supposed that it was precisely that.

❝ Perhaps a memorial of them would not be a bad idea. ❞ At least a chance to truly close that door, but the apology was unnecessary; and neither was it something he wanted. Opting rather to say nothing about it at all. A memorial, even if memory of them fades from the mortal world. Some shall still remember. 

@sicsemper continued from here

[aequitaes]

@sicsemper suffer my tag rambles. ✌🏻

The way Haikaveh/Kavetham is written in a way that makes both of them have their individual characters while also being an integral part in each other's lives. Both of them have their own beliefs and ideology. They both have different things they work on, Alhaitham being this avid researcher and Kaveh being this idealistic artist. Their characters don't necessarily revolve around each other all the time, but there is no doubt that they are both very important people to each other. Kaveh is the exception to Alhaitham, and Alhaitham grounds Kaveh. They each complete the other while the other completes them. So even though they're their own people, you can't separate the influence they have on each other.

[battleshot]

Unconventional munday asks!

             ↳ @glovesup​​ asked : 🤩 who is someone in your RPC that you admire? 

there’s a handful of people I could list here, but then I’d be worried I forgot someone ((((((((: so imma go with two because I couldn’t decide on just one ahsdsjhdgsdy

@sicsemper​​​  i attacked mika back in august last year, because i was absolutely in awe of his writing -- anything i would see on the dash, i would read, and i was waiting for my opportunity to creep in like !! everything he writes truly captures the depth of the character, down to the smallest detail -- his writing is **chef’s kiss**, and i aspire to write just half as decent as him. I don’t get the chance to read a lot of books, so this as close to it as i’m going to get right now. I live for his meta’s, when he starts going off on discord, i’m fed for the week. I’ve learnt so many extra little things about xv -- and considering i’ve been a long time fan, since versus -- it’s refreshing to analyse things in a new light -- like some of the lore and deeper references -- truly that man’s mind is wonderful, ( insane but -- ) and i thoroughly enjoy his presence -- tru m8 ;)

@sunlilted​​​ -- nYX!!!  when i tell you that i live for our discussions on discord - WE’VE had a lot of behind the scenes with these boys for many months, and i’m always thrilled to read about a thought they’ve had !! things that we know, but we don’t know the in depth -- like one time they told me about beads, the symbolic value and even how certain colours hold placement in nyx’s community. that’s just ONe example -- But, when nyx does swing around on the dash -- i just lose my shit. it’s wonderful to see someone who writes nyx, cares and fleshes him out so deeply, and isn’t just used there because he’s a pretty man ( i mean he is, but ) honestly, i feel blessed to have found their blog and seeing them around -- even on oc’s just brings me joy and happiness. <3

[roseusuitta-a]

Oh, Back from work already?

However, that excitement quickly faded as he returned to announce his departure. While Aerith tries to retain some optimism about the possibility of seeing him again, her shoulders slump, her gaze falls, and she leans into the palm of her hand. Soon, I hope...

 Aerith, despite understanding his role, could not hide her sadness in her tone; she knew he could not be the man who forever fixed her flower cart to allow her to travel around Midgar. She recalled how she burst into laughter at his eagerness. Like an exuberant puppy, wagging its tail, and the light in his eyes when he aimed to achieve everything he could to make her succeed. Dragging customers, continuously determined to get her flowers around the slums....  This  is something she would come to miss.

'hey, c'mon — i'll be back in no time, believe me. say you believe me?'  @sicsemper + zack

 Her hands are behind her back, thumb and fingers wrapping around her wrist, offering comfort. He'll be back. That act might have been her way of helping her to provide a smile while holding back all real emotion. 

She would wait a moment before interjecting -- as if responding with a more natural reaction of happiness.      ❛     𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙-- !! ... ( softening posture, though she retains that smile ) 𝐴𝑙𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛.  ( A firm nod ) 𝐼 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢...   ❜    Leaning forward after a step, she adds,       ❛    𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒!    ❜   Almost in a scowling tone, but with a hint of humour. 

PROMPT -- 

[valiisthea]

@sicsemper -> Link.

Mornings in Rito Village are always peaceful. The snow covering the Hebra mountains tends to absorb most of the surrounding sounds, other than the whistling of the wind and the soft rushing of the river below. It's early enough that the fledglings have yet to awaken and begin their usual singing.

Revali breathes in deep, lets the cool air sit in his lungs for just a moment, and breathes out.

Normally, this quiet time would best be used for training - but today he's been tasked with a mission. His pairing? None other than the Silent Knight that burns his blood so.

It's quiet enough that Revali can hear the soft footfalls from the Hylian as soon as he's hopped down from his bed, and he steels himself for a day thats sure to test his nerves more than once. That young Hylian, a royal knight at merely 17 that holds the experience of three seasoned men all at once -- so deserving of being the chosen one. And yet?

Oh, how it plucks his feathers to think...

"I do hope you've prepared well for today's mission. I don't take kindly to dawdling."

[aworldofyou]

Alistair Theirin: [ cracks a joke. ] Leliana: ... Leliana: ... Leliana: i don’t get it.

   this is their friendship in a nutshell. Leli adores her lil brother okay.

[aequitaes]

KAVEH FINALLY RECEIVED A KISS FROM ALHAITHAM A MUG MAY HAVE BEEN BROKEN IN THE PROCESS BUT -- THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT ANDREA IS DYING AND THIS IS NOT A DRILL @sicsemper

[aicidos]

"i know it's not a lot." zack sets the cake down in front of her; little and lopsided as it is — it's barely enough for one, let alone two. "but i couldn't pass up on that promise." / for cissnei's party !!!

unprompted.   ♡  * always accepting !  @sicsemper

aside from rude’s tip on zack’s quickly-approaching arrival at the turk breakroom soon, the place was left empty— precisely due to the turks' schedule, which followed no known convention and had as much rhyme or reason as lazard’s disappearance. she figured the others would disapprove, but her aversion to employees taking smoke-breaks in any other HQ breakroom was greater. 

cissnei only knew zack had arrived by the way the room brightened. 

she couldn’t have predicted, however, what his hands would reveal: a significantly small cake, pristine white frosting and a plump strawberry to crown it. “zack, you remembered…” she managed to say amidst clearing her throat, a hand raising to hide her mouth and, raising it a little, the redness that she felt (and dreaded) quickly spreading on her face. “no, no— really, it’s enough,” and yet, there was the instinct to shake her head, to refuse it, because she has always known to not trust the unknown, and experiences hadn’t been any different. she couldn’t think straight like this— briefly, logic reached and grasped to remind her it wasn’t a scenario that required it, as foreign as that sounded. 

then again, it was a celebration. 

in milliseconds, it flashed across her eyes. the future. overseeing trainees, operations. filing sensitive reports. her shuriken’s dulled blade. the ongrowing attention towards a backwater town mako reactor failing, and the first class soldier candidates that would oversee the mission. her eyes returned to zack again, who she knew for a fact had not yet been relayed the mission, and felt like mourning a moment that hadn’t ended.

cissnei sliced through the cake’s crumb like flesh, the slope of the fork leaving a crescent moon. the sweet mouthfeel made her ease into a smile, despite everything. “as thank you,” she began, sinking her fork into the toppled strawberry, offering it up to him. “you can have the best part.”

[agentscullied]

@sicsemper

      Stars. Glorious burning balls of fire illuminating a blanket of darkness. Prompto hadn’t seen a sight so glorious since Ignis’ dinner two nights ago. Forty eight hours was a long time to not be impressed by 1/5 of one’s senses and frankly, Prompto had had enough. A sort of contentment had settled through the small camp, Noctis perched near Gladio, conversation quiet and cordial, bowl balanced precariously against his knee. Ignis sitting straight, elongating his already tall stature with prim posture. Sickening. He needed to relax, if only for a few minutes. Nobody was watching him here, nobody was judging his form. Well. Sort of. Prompto’s lips twisted in thought as he realized he was judging Ignis’ posture, just not in the way Iggy might anticipate. 

      Restless, Prompto set aside his own empty bowl, and rose. He strode toward Ignis, grin spreading across his lips, ears pink, matching the slight color to his cheeks. “Igman!” He shrilled, standing before him and blocking his view of Gladio and Noctis. “I need your help!” He insisted, shattering the peace and relative quiet of the four. The gears in is mind continued to churn, already considering how he wanted to lay out his proposal to Ignis. Determination in his stare, arms crossed loosely over his chest? There was no way Ignis would turn him down. He was all business, just like Gladio. “It’s really important so you can’t say not right now Prompto,” he added quickly, altering his voice in an attempt to mimic Ignis’ soft accent. “Even you’ll like this. I promise!” 

[immobiliter]

       “ Thank you for looking out for him. ” They were both stood on Skyhold’s battlements, overlooking the bustle of the courtyard below, but her gaze wouldn’t leave one particular figure, tall and beautiful and easy to spot in the crowd, in the same silver and blue uniform that she’d worn for the past decade with such pride. After all she’d heard of the Wardens since her departure from Ferelden on personal business, perhaps it was safe to say that pride had been damaged, somewhat, but Val could still remember those days when it had been a crime to call herself a Grey Warden at all. She hadn’t backed down then and she wouldn’t now, not when the Wardens in Orlais at least appeared to have been forgiven, if not entirely redeemed.

        There was a silent appreciation for that judgement, too, in the way her eyes finally shifted to her companion, to this Inquisitor her husband had told her so much about in his most recent letter. The letter that Val was happily using as her excuse to finally return to him. Another Dalish elf determined and ready to save the world, he’d said, and perhaps that was yet another reason why she’d hastened back to Ferelden at the first opportunity. To meet this elf that she already felt as if she knew, strangely enough, despite the pair only having exchanged a few words so far. The only real difference between them, she fancied, was that it had taken far longer for Val to get her castle.

        “ What Warden Commander Clarel did... ” Her voice trailed off, and she turned her head, struggling under the weight of the guilt that had been gnawing at her ever since she’d gotten word. “ I should have been here. I’m sorry I wasn’t. ”

@sicsemper​  /  emrys

[warwaged-archive]

"well, seems this old friend of mine's in a tight spot. long time ago i said i'd be there for her. made a promise, so..." cloud trails off. the words are softer, uncertain; blue eyes cast to the wall in an effort at misdirection, hands coming to clasp together between his knees. but that same gaze snaps to attention once he's listened to her speak. "if you wanna talk, i'm listening."

UNPROMPTED ASKS !! // accepting @sicsemper always ♥

A soft gasp escapes her as the memories return (the girl she had been, sitting beside her friend as they looked at sky full of stars, speaking of leaving, of heroes, of promises). Tifa remembered the promise, of course; she had not known whether he would. It had been such a long time ago, and with everything... well, she would not have blamed him if it was something he had forgotten. 

Things are different now --- they are different now. And if part of her is content that Cloud still remembers, own rose-colored view of heroes and SOLDIERs had since been shattered. Most of all, Tifa has learned not to wait for a knight that would come and save her. This is not something Cloud can do for her, anyways, and besides, he had already helped Avalanche, helped her more than he even had to. It would not be fair to ask for more.

Tifa shifts closer to the wall, hands behind her back as leans against it, as if the weight of her feelings has finally caught up, forcing her to seek support. Her tone is still soft, though lacking some of its usual upbeatness; gaze, however, avoids him, gently turning up to stare at the ceiling above him before it is cast down and she is left to stare at her own feet. “Can’t say this is quite what I had in mind when I put that on you back when.”

The girl who had forced that promise out of him had no way to know where would they be now, and the boy who begrudginly agreed could not know how much she may be asking for. 

Silence has no time to settle over them, as his offer of support comes immediately. Earlier surprise had been a quiet, soft thing, bitter in the situation that brought it up, sweet in the way shared childhood memories were prone to be. This, prompted by wholly unexpected reaction, was different. Back is pushed from the wall slightly, eyebrows raised, red eyes studying him with intent. There is not much about him that is visibly different, but the difference is there -- in the words, softer than she had come to expect, in the eyes, that now looked more like she remembered, even if they were no longer the same color. “Huh? What’s with you all of a sudden?”

[battleshot]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙲𝚃:   𝙸𝙶𝙽𝙸𝚂  ( @sicsemper​​ )

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚂𝙴 𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝚂𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂?   ➤  【 𝚈𝙴𝚂 】

First  day  of  training..  Can't  imagine  it's  gonna  be  anything  strenuous.  Probably  check  out  a  few  weapons,  meet  a  few  of  the  Crownsguard..  Do  a  few  laps...  Easy!  

                        𝙰𝙻𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚈    𝚂𝙴𝚃    𝙵𝙾𝚁    𝙵𝙰𝙸𝙻𝚄𝚁𝙴    𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷    𝙷𝙸𝚂    𝙰𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙴𝙳    𝙴𝚇𝙿𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂,    the  ambitious  photographer  enters  the  training  grounds  with  a  nervous  exhale  of  breath  and  a  false-confident  smile.  Azuerous  optics  quickly  take  in  the  sights,  dusty-rose  tiers  parted  in  awe.  He'd  seen  it  in  passing,  naturally  spending  time  with  the  royal  entitled  him  to  that,  but  being  on  the  other  side  ...  was  a  whole  new  kettle  of  fish.  

He  was    supposed    to  meet  Ignis  at  9  am    sharp.    Unfortunately,  with  his  new  clearance  not  fully  recorded,  there  was  a  slight  delay  at  the  gate.        ❝    Morning,  Ignis!    ❞      He  chimes,  lifting  his  arm  to  give  a  brief  wave  of  his  hand.        ❝      Well,    this    is  different  from  the  study  sessions,  huh?    ❞        In  truth,  he'd  barely  spoken  to  Noctis'  advisor.  There  was  always  an  air  of    awkwardness;  naturally,  he  felt  inferior  to  the  one  who  was  raised  in  a  more  formal  setting.  A  few  pleasantries  and  queries  here  and  there  --  Not  to  mention  the  trouble  he  and  his  best  friend  had  landed  themselves  in  from  time  to  time,  thus  Ignis  was  forced  to  step  in.  Nonetheless,  this  was  a  new  chapter.  So,  he  was  going  to  set  things  right  from  the  start.

                ❝      Sorry  I'm  late;  the  guy  at  the  gate  thought  I  was  some  street  rat  --  Not  used  that  entrance  before,  so.    ❞        A  nonchalant  shrug  as  he  approaches  the  older  male.