[This is hardly Ignis' first time on a train, but it might as well be. Nothing feels right. He's learned to handle the disorientation that comes with movement unaccompanied by sight; at least he has for movement by his own two feet. Movement via a vehicle is proving much harder. Ignis hasn't dared to leave his seat since the train started moving. At some point, he'll have to, but right now it seems safer to remain where he is, with Prompto at his side trying hard to keep nervous energy at bay, and Noctis across the the aisle doing his best to fight off the depression that has haunted him so much of his life. If anything is going to cause him to relapse to the state he was in his teens, it will be this. So much lost on top of already losing his father and his home, Ignis' own sacrifice just one more burden upon his young shoulders despite the advisor's multiple insistences that he regrets nothing of what happened.
And then there is Gladio.
The Shield is a powder keg who's fuse has already been lit and is burning steadily toward explosion. This, perhaps, more than his lost vision is what has set Ignis so off balance. The tension is near suffocating, and while in the past he would have been able to sit Gladio down and work him through things, now Ignis can barely keep his own mind together and steady. How can he hope to provide the outlet he is suppose to in order to keep Gladio calm when the balance between them has shifted so drastically? Why had he not thought of these consequences before he donned the Ring? It wouldn't have changed anything, but he could have at least planned. Prepared. Found some way to mitigate the damage that is being done. Instead, an act that was meant to protect and preserve has instead pulled them all apart.
A sudden increase in the tension in the air-- so much it feels as if the Archaean is standing on his chest--yanks Ignis from his thoughts and forces his attention outward again. Just in time for the powder keg to blow.
Gladio is not yelling, not yet, but his anger has boiled over and the harshness in his voice doesn't need volume to get its point across. Even as drawn into himself as Noctis is, he can't help but rise to the bait. Ignis wants to snap that they both need to stop acting like children, but he knows that it won't help defuse the situation at all. Instead, his fingers tighten around the top of his cane and he remains silent. Next to him, Prompto is nearly quivering out of his skin with nervous energy, and Ignis can't help but wonder if the blonde will actually say something in Noctis' defense, though he can't blame the gunslinger if he does not. After all, Gladio is at least twice his size. Who would really want to pull the attention of an angry behemoth in their direction willingly?
Each angry word makes it harder for Ignis to stay still despite his better judgment. All better judgment flies out the window, though, when Gladio brings his injury into the argument, wielding it against Noctis like a dagger.
And that, he can't stand for.]
Enough, Gladio!
[The only acknowledgment of his words is a sharp click of Gladio's tongue and then he's back at Noctis. Perhaps it's seeing Ignis' request so thoroughly ignored or the fact that the fight is escalating so much against Noctis, but a moment later, Ignis hears Prompto rise from his seat and actually try to place himself between the angry Shield and his friend. Just as quickly though, Prompto is all but shoved back into the backrest of the seat. Ignis almost pulls himself back to his feet, one hand gripping his cane so hard he fancies he hears the wood creaking over the sound of angry voices, but before he can, Noctis ends the fight, retreating from the car they are in to the one behind.
There's part of Ignis that is proud of Noctis then, though this seems something strange to be proud of someone for. He could have continued the fight, kept pushing back against Gladio until one of them did something they would always regret, but he didn't. Space was needed and so space was created, even if Gladio probably took it as him once more running away.
Why is it that is something it seems he will never be able to make Gladio see? Noctis just needs time, and when he is ready, he will rise in a way that exceeds all they have ever expected of him.
Lost in the darkness, hoping for a sign
And then there is Gladio.
The Shield is a powder keg who's fuse has already been lit and is burning steadily toward explosion. This, perhaps, more than his lost vision is what has set Ignis so off balance. The tension is near suffocating, and while in the past he would have been able to sit Gladio down and work him through things, now Ignis can barely keep his own mind together and steady. How can he hope to provide the outlet he is suppose to in order to keep Gladio calm when the balance between them has shifted so drastically? Why had he not thought of these consequences before he donned the Ring? It wouldn't have changed anything, but he could have at least planned. Prepared. Found some way to mitigate the damage that is being done. Instead, an act that was meant to protect and preserve has instead pulled them all apart.
A sudden increase in the tension in the air-- so much it feels as if the Archaean is standing on his chest--yanks Ignis from his thoughts and forces his attention outward again. Just in time for the powder keg to blow.
Gladio is not yelling, not yet, but his anger has boiled over and the harshness in his voice doesn't need volume to get its point across. Even as drawn into himself as Noctis is, he can't help but rise to the bait. Ignis wants to snap that they both need to stop acting like children, but he knows that it won't help defuse the situation at all. Instead, his fingers tighten around the top of his cane and he remains silent. Next to him, Prompto is nearly quivering out of his skin with nervous energy, and Ignis can't help but wonder if the blonde will actually say something in Noctis' defense, though he can't blame the gunslinger if he does not. After all, Gladio is at least twice his size. Who would really want to pull the attention of an angry behemoth in their direction willingly?
Each angry word makes it harder for Ignis to stay still despite his better judgment. All better judgment flies out the window, though, when Gladio brings his injury into the argument, wielding it against Noctis like a dagger.
And that, he can't stand for.]
Enough, Gladio!
[The only acknowledgment of his words is a sharp click of Gladio's tongue and then he's back at Noctis. Perhaps it's seeing Ignis' request so thoroughly ignored or the fact that the fight is escalating so much against Noctis, but a moment later, Ignis hears Prompto rise from his seat and actually try to place himself between the angry Shield and his friend. Just as quickly though, Prompto is all but shoved back into the backrest of the seat. Ignis almost pulls himself back to his feet, one hand gripping his cane so hard he fancies he hears the wood creaking over the sound of angry voices, but before he can, Noctis ends the fight, retreating from the car they are in to the one behind.
There's part of Ignis that is proud of Noctis then, though this seems something strange to be proud of someone for. He could have continued the fight, kept pushing back against Gladio until one of them did something they would always regret, but he didn't. Space was needed and so space was created, even if Gladio probably took it as him once more running away.
Why is it that is something it seems he will never be able to make Gladio see? Noctis just needs time, and when he is ready, he will rise in a way that exceeds all they have ever expected of him.
He just needs time.]