phantasmemes | TEST DRIVE 006

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!test drive

TEST DRIVE 006

Hello and welcome to Phantasmal Rift's Test Drive Meme!

Test drive threads are assumed to be game canon for accepted characters unless otherwise noted, so don't feel like you'll have to introduce yourself a second time to everyone you meet! As an added bonus, participation in the test drive comes with the chance to earn up to two items of loot for your trouble! Characters who are accepted can earn one item for having a top level, and one for tagging out to someone else's top level! Your SWEET LOOT will be included with your acceptance notice.

Additionally, characters currently in game can earn themselves a piece of bonus loot for the dungeon by tagging people's top-levels on the test drive! Existing characters get their bonus loot along with the rest of their loot at the conclusion of the dungeon.

This test drive takes place in the Telovia Mines, an extremely abandoned magical crystal mine and the town and infrastructure that one supported it. The tunnels are in reasonably good condition and would be reasonably navigable... Except for one thing.

ONE MINOR THING

The magical effects of the Fissure cause those within it to lose something when they arrive - for most people, it's a sense such as touch or hearing, but it's also possible to lose a more esoteric sense (such as your sense of balance or temperature, but NOT things like "sense of morals" or "sense of style"), the ability to speak, or the ability to recognize faces. As a general guideline, whatever characters lose should be non-supernatural in nature, and something they would have taken for granted as a part of their ability to function.

ODDS AND ENDS

Just because the mines are empty of people doesn't mean that they've gone still. While for the most part, the carts full of crystals remain in one place, the huge amount of magic has left more than a few of the miners' abandoned tools still going through their motions. Rusted pickaxes swing at the walls, and dead lanterns swing from the ceiling. Crystals occasionally free themselves from shards of rock to pile into bins, which then empty into already-overflowing mine carts.

As long as you leave them to their jobs, everything will be fine. If you try to stop the tools (and it is the tools themselves, for anyone who might be looking for ghosts) from doing their jobs, they'll chase you down until you leave their general vicinity.

Of course, the eternally working tools don't care much about the structural integrity of the mine tunnels...

THEY ALL PILE UP

...And so, inevitably, there are cave-ins.

Most of them are fairly minor, and you can see them (well, if you can see) enough to just work around them. Some of them are big enough that you're going to have to dig through them first, if you can.

And then there's the handful that block passages entirely. But don't panic! The tunnels are designed around the possibility of this happening - rather than coming to an end, the majority of them loop back around to the main arteries of the mine.

E... ventually...

But you and whoever is stuck with you on this side of the cave-in might be wandering for quite a while before you get there. Hopefully one of you still has a sense of direction, assuming either of you ever had one in the first place.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After a moment to gently guide Izunia's hand to his shoulder Talcott begins walking in the indicated direction, taking a moment to pace himself to determine what speed works best for Izunia. A bit faster than he could usually move with Ignis, it seemed. Taller meant longer legs, after all.

"My grandfather was Jared Hester. He worked for the Amicitia family." His grandfather was definitely worth remembering more than he was. "He started working for them when -incline- Clarus was young."

Dropping that simple indicator of the shift in terrain into the middle of the sentence was so natural and habitual that it was a pretty clear indicator he was very familiar with working with someone blind.

Taller, and also a little more aggressive in his pace; though there is a bit of shuffle to his step, testing the ground before putting weight on his feet. Izunia doesn't move like the blind, but he does move like someone who is used to observing them.

"That would be - oh! The young man with the truck - now I truly do feel like a fool, that was really such a short time ago..." The deep voice is surprisingly sheepish about it.

The orbs of light, at least, follow the pair as they go, careful to not bump into Talcott and tingling with magic when they get close. They're not exactly anti-daemon strength, but they're strong enough for a starting place.

"Yeah I-"

Wait. He actually almost stumbles with the next step, silently cursing himself for getting distracted. Not even three months and he's out of practice?

"Sorry. Sorry. How do you know who I am?" No offense meant. "Sir."

And since Izunia can't see it and therefore can't take it as a sign of Tal distrusting his magical lights he's going to go ahead and flick on the flashlight clipped to his armored vest too. Just to be safe.

"Please, there's really no need for formality." A little insistent, and his hand is there to help steady Talcott as he stumbles. "And the short of it is that those within the Ring had some ability to see what its wearers were doing, if we broke the surface of what was otherwise a very long slumber. And I was very much awake at that point, though my attention was split and somewhat muddled."

He's not easily going to offer up why, though. Please don't make him go relive that thing.

He wouldn't dream of pushing for answers, not from Izunia. Getting him to stop calling him 'sir', however, might take a lot more doing.

"Oh! So you're aware of a lot of what happened with Prince Noctis?" He sounds so excited about that. And, in fact, if he had trouble placing the voice before hearing the way he says Noctis' name, that bright hopeful excitement, might be a bit more familiar.

"That really is fascinating. You must have learned so much over the centuries like that, then." The gaps in documentation you could fill, Izunia.

"And a few others, yes. There's quite a few gaps between the Fall of Insomnia and then, however - Noctis didn't put on the Ring until very late in his journey." There's a touch of unmistakable fondness in the way Izunia says the name.

(It is bold of Talcott to assume Izunia remembers enough to fill in even his own documentation.)

"Less than you might think, at any rate - there's only so much a human mind is meant to hold, and Ardyn and I are both near the upper limit." The casualness and affection is there, too - a very different thing from what Talcott might expect, given the context.

One of the downfalls of having a nearly eidetic memory is that he forgets that other people can't recall entire conversations verbatim years after the fact.

"I suppose that makes sense." It reminds him of Sol all over again, conveying the memories of others like Dan because they couldn't really process that many people's memories in one go. "You... are on good terms with your brother now?" Because that is... definitely not in line with what he knows from both Ignis and what limited records they could find from the early days.

"...It's complicated. The version of Ardyn that's here is human again and means no harm to anyone, but... You can't erase or forgive a history like ours overnight."

Two thousand years of grudges don't disappear easily, even when they were founded on a mountain of mistakes.

"How you feel about him and whether you interact with him or not is your choice, but I won't allow any harm to come to him."

"I've... had enough of harm happening to people, thanks." Soft and somber. But he is quick to latch onto the history part of things rather than letting Izunia follow that statement up with questions.

"Your history... that's a complicated topic, isn't it? None of the records seem to have a full account that isn't contradicted by at least half a dozen other pieces." Including wtf your name is, Izunia. But then he's spent an absurd amount of his nights of insomnia trying to figure out what the hell the truth was of what he and Ignis were looking for. And even from the outside it really kinda felt like the developers didn't know what they were doing so no wonder the two of them were a lost cause.

Time to find out what Izunia knew so he didn't contradict anything too much.

"Then it seems like you'll fit in here fine. Most of us have very little desire to harm each other, my brother-in-law's grudge and a few other circumstances excepted."

Yes, he did just drop the 'Ardyn is gay married' bomb in the most backhanded way possible. It's okay if that one takes a minute to process - Izunia has paused in a way that offers solid support in case Talcott trips again.

Or maybe that it's that he needs to pause, himself. "I'm surprised you found any records at all, after so long. I did do my best to disguise the trail. Come, that's a story better told in the light of day, even if I can't appreciate it at the moment. The mine entrance shouldn't be far; I feel as though I can almost hear the rain already."

Ardyn being married to a dude is not that weird in the grand scheme of things. Surprising but not enough to make him stagger. Which might be an interesting thing to note. He's more surprised by someone knowing or caring who he is than by the Accursed having found love.

He does take that moment to orient himself to the direction of the exit, breathing in deep, smiling faintly at the smell of wet earth. "Daylight would be appreciated, yeah."

Sorry, Izunia, he... doesn't take darkness well. Even now.

Does Izunia look even an inch like a man who handles the darkness well, given that he's got three large orbs of light floating around him still, even as they come into the muted light of the rainy day outside?

He's slower and more careful as they come into the range of the entrance - understandably so, given the number of minecart tracks someone could trip on.

"I do believe there's a clearer area off to the side... I've got a few chairs, if you'll lead. Might as well get comfortable and have something to drink."

Talcott is definitely not going to argue the orbs staying with them, not when the day is so overcast and gloomy. Thankfully it's not nearly as hot and sticky as he's used to. He does try to give Izunia indications of where the tracks are, guiding him to the areas where the lip of the tracks are lowest.

"You have chairs?" That seems like an abuse of power but then Nine had raided the craft room at camp for him before they left and stored all the jewelry making supplies in his inventory.

"No, I take it back, that's more practical than half the shit Nine keeps on him." And a few steps to the left. "We should be okay here? Out of the way but still shielded from the rain."

It is relatively cool for the kind of summer day it is, really. The rain is coming down pretty soundly as Izunia steps away.

"Chairs, meals, weapons, the majority of several people's wardrobes, half a chocolate shop and a significant portion of a library..."

Izunia just starts listing things to himself as he sets out two reasonably comfortable looking folding chairs and a small matching table before sitting. Two of the lights do vanish at that point, but the last remains floating over his shoulder. "Nearly everything save my cat and large furniture, at this point. Is there anything I can get you?"

Izunia keeps his light and Talcott makes no move to click off his flashlight. He turns one of the chairs to put the back to the wall before he sits down, angling himself outward to keep an eye on their surroundings, fingers anxiously toying with one of his knives.

"Half a chocolate shop?" That almost makes him laugh.

"You wouldn't happen to have... a bottle of Glacier in there, would you?" Pepsi is close but it's not really the same as Glacier Cola. He misses it, okay.

"The last expedition was to an abandoned but magically preserved city, and I looted all the perishables I could find." Which amounted to about a grocery store in total, if he's being honest.

For himself, Izunia pulls out a mug of coffee, creamed a little to his taste and steaming in the rainy air. Then a plate with a couple triangular slices of grilled cheese sandwich and a bit of sliced pear, which he balances on one thin knee.

"I'm afraid I don't have much of anything from Eos, though."

Edited 2018-09-02 02:20 (UTC)

"Ah... it's okay." Sorry if he sounds a little disappointed. "Pepsi? Or just coffee works. As long as it's passable by Ignis' standards." Because he's a spoiled brat when it comes to coffee and it's entirely Ignis' fault. Ren has definitely not been helping, either.

He tilts his head at the steaming cup int Izunia's hands though.

"How is it still hot?" he's pretty sure Nine can't do that.

"I've got just the thing." How exactly does the Founder King get a hold of the LeBlanc special? It's hard to say (there are just too many Akira out there), but he pulls another steaming mug to set on the table, this one black, followed by milk (in a half gallon jug), cream (in a pint carton), and sugar (in a fancy little china dish, with a spoon).

"The Armiger keeps things in temporal stasis - everything stays exactly the same as when I put it in. It's a wonder for giving yourself breakfast in bed." Which someone here might do not at all infrequently. "Let me know if you'd like anything else."

"Temporal stasis..." He repeats it slowly, clearly fascinated. He's only ever seen Ignis access the armiger and that was sparingly at best. Which means he's actually poking at the milk jug to see what the date is on it, just for the hell of it.

And then promptly set it back down because he's not going to sully his coffee with that nonsense. He actually picks up the cup, takes a small curious sip and then sighs happily. Nope. This is the good shit no additives necessary.

"No, this... this is perfect." Look this boy has been forced to gag down the burnt as shit camp coffee Cor swears by, okay. This is heaven. Maybe even enough to let him let his guard down just a little.

Not like the date probably makes sense anyway, since it's from this world.

"Good." Conversely, Izunia seems to grow a little more tense, munching through a slice of pear before speaking again. "I don't know what you might know of the story, so if it's alright with you, I'll start from the beginning."

Nonsensical dates aside it is still very interesting.

But Talcott settles in, watching Izunia a little more closely as the tension in him grows. He wants to focus on the other man entirely, see what he gives away without realizing it, especially since he can't see the intensity of his focus. But they're not somewhere safe enough for him to do that so he'll have to split his attention, as frustrating as it is.

"From the beginning sounds like the best. As I said, what information I have is... scattered at best."

"Very well."

Izunia settles back into his chair and visibly tries to relax. It won't be very long at all before Talcott sees him pull something else from the Armiger - a small velvet sack that contains a bracelet he slips on and a number of colorful, faceted crystals. They glitter in the dim light, and after a moment, start to hover by the means of some unknown magic.

"The circumstances of our birth are... Well, fairly obvious if you look at us. Ardyn is the elder, by some handful of minutes, but I tended to be the responsible one. He was playful, and took the lead on almost everything, while I smoothed out any ruffled feathers and kept him from doing anything too risky." His voice is warm and fond, but with a touch of grief. "Normal enough, even for children growing up at the end of the Astral War, when the Scourge and daemons lurked in all corners much as it does in your time. We were twenty or so when Ardyn was... Chosen."

And here the purpose of the little crystals becomes clear - even if Izunia can't see them, himself, the way he twitches his fingers to send them floating into a spinning circle is clearly a routine sort of fidget. "Led by a vision, he went off in search of the slumbering gods, and returned with four things - the Crystal, the Ring of the Lucii, the prophecy of the Chosen King, and a blessing - the power to heal the Scourge from the afflicted. The Armiger was already ours, a last kiss from the magical power thrown about by the Astral War, or so we thought - I think there were some other handful of children with such powers born in that era, though I can no longer recall any such details.

"And so for fifteen years he wandered the earth, healing all he came across, with Gilgamesh at his side - I went with them on occasion, but for the most part I was occupied in what would eventually become Insomnia, leading the repair of infrastructure and research into what the Scourge actually was. Even if we could not cure it, we could find out how it spread, slow the infection - the only help to my brother's mission I could truly give.

"I don't remember how exactly I became exposed, but I know that it must have been in the process of that work, because we lost many other researchers to the same. Ardyn heard, and of course rushed home for my sake, and even then he was only barely in time; I was already at the point of hallucinations and fever. By that time, I had the feeling there was something wrong, for Ardyn had already begun dressing in many layers and keeping his face shaded in a healer's hood."

The circle of bobbing crystals tightens in a snap. "But nothing could have prepared me for what I woke up to see - my brother's face the grey of a corpse, the Scourge leaking from his eyes. I thought it another fever nightmare and I - " A hitch. " - I struck with one of the blades I kept always in my Armiger. And I knew the wound to be mortal even before he hit the ground, but that impact never came. He dissolved instead, like a daemon, leaving nothing behind."

Talcott listens intently, sipping slowly on his coffee, savoring it and letting his gaze get drawn in by the play of those crystals more than he'd like to admit. It surprising to him in a way, that the Founder King should be so willing to do something which obviously gives him away. The kinds of tells that even Ignis would never allow.

He'd expected more posturing, more politicking. It's... actually very humanizing and reassuring, seeing the legend as nothing more than a man burdened with memories like the rest of them. He can see where the tale is going even before Izunia hesitates and he frowns, stares down into his coffee for a long moment, seeing only the shattered pieces of Chloe's face again.

"You were frightened, thought yourself in danger. You reacted and if the training you went through then was anything like what it was for Noctis then-" He shakes his head, sighs softly to convey that same feeling audibly. "Can you really blame yourself?"

Of course he can. Of course he does that much is clear. And if someone like the king can be held responsible for such actions then-

No. No no no no Chloe shot him it wasn't his fault.

"D-don't... don't answer that."

"...I don't think it's a matter of blame. But forgiving myself..."

It's another matter entirely, and it sounds like one that Talcott, unfortunately, knows well enough. He lets the silence hang, in sparkling crystals and the sound of the rain, for just a moment.

"The true nature of Ardyn's power, that he kept hidden from even me and Gilgamesh, was that... He didn't heal the Scourge, in the way that the line of the Oracle later would. He simply took the infection into himself, more than any human should have been able to contain. I think that what happened would have happened eventually, when it grew too much for his body, a point that I think was very near. But I cannot be sure, and I cannot ask - Ardyn remembers little to nothing before the events that immediately followed his transformation.

"Distraught, I sought the Crystal for guidance. There, the Draconian told me that Ardyn had become a daemon - something worse than a daemon, even, the avatar of all that was dark and twisted by the Scourge. I didn't want to believe it. But two nights later... I was asleep, in that same room, and I woke to hands around my throat. Ardyn, black-weeping and berserk. If Gilgamesh hadn't come... I believed, then.

"I had the daemon Ardyn captured, contained, but I - the Draconian laid the role of king at my feet, and I picked it up, because the people still needed someone. And I let 'Izunia' be the brother who had died, replaced by a daemon, and 'Ardyn' be the beloved king wracked by grief. I told myself that it was for the sake of everyone else - 'Izunia' had few people who would miss him in comparison, after all. I was sparing the world grief."

A shaky inhale, exhale, Izunia running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes, even if he can't see through them right now anyway. The circle of crystals continues to spin; the orb of light hanging over their little campsite wobbles.

"...The truth I can admit to now is that... I just couldn't handle a world without him. So I sealed away my heart and committed the whole of my being to the substitution, to the mad attempt at recreating the brother I had lost with my own self. And the daemon that I blamed for taking him away from me - the daemon that was, still, always, my brother - even if prophecy said I couldn't kill it, I could hurt it, for taking him away from me."

He almost can't say it, not outright. The turn of the phrase he uses is not for politics, but for his own chances at holding himself together long enough to tell the rest of the tale - "And so there are thirty-seven fratricides to my name, and only the first an accident, even if they were all mistakes."

Thirty six - six times six, a ritual number from a ritual time in which faith in the gods was something he still had some belief in. A mad, frantic prayer of death for something, someone who couldn't die.

Talcott is quiet for a long moment after that, processing what was said, giving Izunia a moment, comparing all of this information to the scraps that he and Ignis had managed to scrape together. Then contrasting that with what little information he had from the game developers. So much conflicting information and he had no idea what was true and what was the variation of another world. And if he and the others could go home if they died didn't that mean there was more truth to their worlds than the fiction they were fed, other people and characters that are deeper and more complex than the writers allowed for.

People like Izunia whose story was never written but is here and suffering all the same.

It takes Tal a moment to contemplate whether or not it's really proper but the redhead had said himself that he was retired, a king no longer. So he sets aside his coffee, the soft click of the cup against the table, a brief scrape as he stands from his chair. Two dragging, booted footsteps and then, Talcott just leans over and wraps his arms around Izunia's shoulders. Nothing he can say will even begin to help a hurt that deep but sometimes knowing you're not alone is enough.

He hates the fact that he can't feel it but that doesn't change the intent behind it.

"I'm sorry." What else could he possibly say to that.

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