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[To say their first day in Elpis was eventful would be an understatement. Though, he does suppose that it pales in comparison to some other eventful outings he's weathered with a certain compeer of his. The familiar is certainly uncanny in likeness to Azem, but how can one compare it to the genuine article who believes a round of fisticuffs with a volcano over some grapes is at all a reasonable solution to its eruption? All the same, he had not expected that part of his time here was going to consist of his training an aerial serpent how to fly!

Though he is not inclined to admit the enjoyment he felt in so doing, it had cost him valuable energy and so it is little wonder that he is more than happy to retire for the evening. They spoke of separate rooms, but that was ever a formality, they need not be to forthwith with the nature of their relationship, especially when the two of them are here on the behalf of the Convocation!

Placing his mask on the small side table planted next to the lounge, he looks to his company with a withered expression.]

So, have you any theories on that peculiar little annoyance's state of being? Or are you satisfied with merely chalking it up to Azem's usually foolery. I will not deny that could very well be the case, but it has a soul.

[Considering he's had to soul-bust a phoenix on his first day as Emet-Selch, he cannot easily let that detail slip away. There is something about that familiar, something that does not sit right with him. Something that, if he were allowed to, he'd rightly not be involved with at all, though he knows that would be egregiously irresponsible of him, and loath is he ever to be thus.]

That is highly irregular as I know you are keenly aware.

heiresy

( Spit or swallow )

heiresy

<( He was dragged, bloodied and shackled. )

nightoftheround

( SPOILERS FOR FFXV BELOW )

milkandsugar

( A fateful night in the arid desert )

heiresy

( And the sun rose on the night of fun and terror )

heiresy

( A midnight dreary... )

dravanicide

A drink is what he said, what he suggested, but it would seem that a drink turned into far more than that.

One drink loosened Estinien's tongue quite a bit, and the two seemed to get along rather well—perhaps Estinien had longed for social interaction than his actions would have otherwise implied. A surprise even to himself as he got to talking and enjoying the other man's company. However, one drink lead to another, and they could barely be burdened with finding their way back to the barracks, so an inn room was in order.

Of course they did not think it through when they got the room—one bed to share, but in their drunken stupor it was a tenuous problem. With them was a bottle of ale, because even if they were to retire, little did that mean the drinking had to stop.

"Had I known—" Estinien began as they entered the room, lucky enough that he could keep his balance even when the world seemed unwilling to steady itself, "you would be... this enjoyable to share a drink with, mayhap I would have done so sooner."

He placed the bottle on the small table near the bed as he spoke, nearly knocking it over with his lapse in judgement—even with his motor skills. With the bottle stabilized, he looked to the bed, realizing they had not specified the need for two.

"By the Fury..." he muttered under his breath, before looking to Aymeric, "'twould seem one of us must take the floor."

dravanicide

[With the others asleep, or so Estinien assumes as such, he quietly sneaks away from the now dwindling campfire. Though, less so would you call it a campfire than a pile of weakly glowing embers barely clinging to life. Nevertheless, not being able to sleep easy, as he never has been able to since childhood, he decides to patrol the area around them.

With so many dragons nearby, his senses are rather flooded, and as such he rather relies upon his own eyes to detect any would be threats. However, he also knows it's scantly just that, that his mind is elsewhere with the meeting of Hraesvelgr on the horizon, and if naught comes of that, then too a showdown with Nidhogg. At long last, his thirst for vengeance may yet be sated. The thought is comforting, to be sure, but with his beliefs, and the foundations there of being shaken so thoroughly, he is rather besides himself with his thoughts.

He's almost disappointed that there doesn't seem to be any dragons threatening to march upon the camp. It'd be a welcomed stress relief to fell one of the beasts, even if it might result in Iceheart's shrill mewling. However, since that does not seem to be the case, he instead decides to spend this sleepless night training (not unlike the days when he first joined the Knights Dragoon) with his Gae Bolg, a handful a yalms outside of their camp.

Those days, being a young lad with scant a thought in his head save for vengeance, are still burned into his mind. His training, rigorous and scarring as it were, promised to never leave him. How could it? When his anger, his hatred—his trauma was used to fuel him, to make him that much more focused, that much more deadly. That much closer to vengeance. The reminder of what he had lost, what others could lose, that Nidhogg and his brood were responsible...

His movements, precise and calculated, speak of years of training. He moves with ease with his practiced jabs and thrusts, and as his mind goes back to that place, near as horrifying as when his village was razed to the ground, what with being forced to relive it again and again, it's almost as if he's in a trance. It was all part of the training, to fan the flames of his contempt. To open that emotional wound so that it may gush forth with utter rancor, not unlike that of Nidhogg's own. So that he may become a better weapon in lieu of his own self preservation.

With his focus being poured into his practice, and his thoughts leaving him elsewhere mentally, he scant will realize the approach of another—for how could he, when he's so utterly consumed with the past, presently.]

heiresy

There were men and women bustling around him with food and decorations. He was asked about 20 questions a minute, all completely inconsequential. Aymeric was pleased that this day has come. It was a celebration of the highest order with a much broader guest list than there ever had been. It was the celebration of the infancy of their democracy. The city's party planners were reminded by the astrologians that the picked date fell on the very name day of their former Lord Commander.

This event was inescapable. While not overly sentimental about his birthday, most years he was able to hide away and celebrate privately- and that element of control was nice.

Once he had settled with a planner about food and wine, another frazzled woman came up and demanded the name for his date. That was the last thing on his mind. Lucia, the obvious choice, would be overseeing security. His ideal guest of honor, the Warrior of Light, was half the continent away on more pressing matters.

"Summon Estinien for me."

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Duty Commenced

A Night in Elpis

A Glorious Wine Tasting

Sidurgu & Aymeric

Noctis + Ignis; self indulge crap #69

(no subject)

The Next Morning (Francel & Aymeric)

Aymeric & Estinien plus a grump fluff

Aymeric + Estinien; this is straight up gonna be porn you've been warned

Estinien + Ysayle

(no subject)

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January 2022

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