[It’s hard to tell what ekes from Ardyn when he sees Noctis’ face. He had expected him to be ten years younger, really, but there’s something still writhing in him, feeling like the cold sting of disappointment. Just on the knife-edge of frustration, and it is only the thought that surely all he had accomplished back on Eos has not been undone merely because damnable time did not know how to be linear anymore.
But that is something to give further thought to when he’s by himself; not when his mind is connected to Noctis and the boy practically glaring daggers at him. He can feel that heat of anger, hot and stringent.
How quaint.]
What, do you plan on coming for me, sword flashing in the light and decrying my very existence on this island?
[As if he doesn’t know why Noctis wants to see his face, his location. And he’s half-willing to oblige… but since it’s Ardyn, he has to at least be 5000% frustrating about it first.]
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But that is something to give further thought to when he’s by himself; not when his mind is connected to Noctis and the boy practically glaring daggers at him. He can feel that heat of anger, hot and stringent.
How quaint.]
What, do you plan on coming for me, sword flashing in the light and decrying my very existence on this island?
[As if he doesn’t know why Noctis wants to see his face, his location. And he’s half-willing to oblige… but since it’s Ardyn, he has to at least be 5000% frustrating about it first.]