[ She shakes her head. That she could divine the future had been a well-guarded secret, only known to herself, Addam, and two others. It was only that: power. Raw power that could come with holding a relic supposedly gifted to the Architect.
How does she convey this? ]
...Just power. [ Status, the want to change the world, or to protect it comes second to that. ] None hurt me. [ She closes her eyes, hesitant. He needs to know.
So with a heaviness, she finally admits: ] But we hurt them, those unworthy who sought to claim us.
[ —Even members of Addam’s own family, until she had finally been passed to him. Not that at the time she can accurately say they were themselves. They hadn’t been human in any sense of the word. Everything had been— abrupt, automatic: others tried, and they were violently rejected.
She hadn't feared hurting others then. She hadn't felt anything at all. Now, she does. ]
[Noctis pauses to consider that, both words and tone. His gaze shifts away, briefly, falling to his stomach where his fingers are laced together, with the ring glittering innocently on one hand.]
I can understand that. Any power's only as good or bad as whoever's using it, right? In the wrong hands, terrible things can happen. It's better to be careful than not.
[The one judging who is or isn't worthy... they can be wrong, it's true. There have been some kings of Lucis who perhaps ought not have been worthy, who were deemed so purely by the blood in their veins. And there have been citizens of Lucis who could have been worthy but were not chosen, or at least were made to pay a high price.
He thinks of Ravus, of the injury he'd received trying to steal the ring. Noctis only knew bits and pieces from Luna, but he'd lost an arm in his hunt for power. Others have burned alive. And even he himself wasn't left unscathed. And the ring's power is... terrifying. He's glad the kings that dwell within show at least some discernment in who gets to use it.
Pyra's had to be the one to pass such judgment - along with the mysterious Mythra - and it's hard to imagine her in the same cold, calculating position as the kings of yore, but he can also see her doing what's necessary to protect the future. If that meant hurting the wrong person to keep that power away from them, then so be it.]
[ If nothing else, talking this out has made a new doubt arise, that, perhaps, some of her fears here are not as founded as they are in her world. However, another doubt manifests to counters this one: that she is merely assuming the former. Conflicted, she finds some groudedness alongside Noctis.
She does not like seeing mortals vying for her power. But she can also understand it-- perhaps, even sympathize with it-- all the way back to the man who had first stolen both her and her brother from the Architect. He wanted answers. He demanded them. Perhaps at one point, he had even wanted better. Why create a world like this, one so wrought with war and strife, one in which so many suffer, one in which its creator is silent and does nothing? And so he had stolen from the Architect himself.
Power means little without control. Power is also a conundrum: does it corrupt or does it reveal? Noctis has immense power. It hasn't tainted his heart.
Her voice drops. ]
You... understand. [ Here she is, confessing that she's hurt others for trying. He may not condone it, but... he seems to understand. ]
When I was a kid, I asked why the Crystal only belonged to Lucis, if it was meant to help everyone. It and the ring both offer so much power, but it's given only to a few of us, the family that the gods picked to protect the world. It didn't seem fair to me. But I was told that we're not using it, we're guarding it. For thousands of years we've kept it safe, gathered power over time until it was ready.
[And until he was ready. And whether or not he believes himself "worthy", it chose him, so that's that.]
When my family pulled the wall back to cover only Insomnia... when Dad agreed to the treaty that abandoned all those lands to the Nifs... or when he sent me out on a ruse just to protect me. A lot of people got hurt, or were killed. Plenty lost their homes, and they resented us for good reason.
[He exhales a soft breath, and looks at her again.]
I didn't understand for a long time. But that much power... it needs to be protected, or even more people could get hurt, or the world itself could die. I don't have to like it to know that this is better. So yeah... I get it.
[People can hate them for it- that's fine. At least they're still alive.]
[ Power lends one an air of capability, Addam had said. For her, she's always thought that power does not corrupt, but rather reveals. With Addam, with Noctis. Both had their hearts unaffiliated by power. But what good is it, if it cannot protect those they care about, the world?
After all of that, he doesn't say the power ought to be destroyed, the very same one bestowed onto his family as a blessing, but behaves more like a curse for all the suffering it's brought. Instead, he says it should be protected. He can look past the hardships and the weight of being chosen in light of the world. Not only that, but he can express himself still. He can admit that it doesn't feel fair. Yet in delivering this, he has testified to that wisdom she has seen in him before. In this moment, her eyes meet his when he looks back to her. She lowers her head. For a while, she doesn't say anything. It guilts her, of course. "This is better"-- it's no different than him saying that his death is better.
It would be easy to turn this to him, after him saying all that. She's done it so many times before, when he's spoken of himself. Others, too. They tell their stories, and like clockwork she inquires further.
[He's surprised by her comment, for the subject - and the question - that she chose; he'd debated whether or not to go with the story, and had done it only because he thought it might help to demonstrate why he understands. So often turning the subject away from her was an invitation she would jump on, and he'd been half-ready to figure out a way to twist things back on her. That it wasn't necessary catches him off guard, but he's relieved by it, too, that she's able to open up rather than guard herself like usual. He hopes that he can avoid screwing this up, lest she thinks her trust in him to be misplaced.
Her question, at least, requires no long thought on his part.]
I will. [His tone is calm and resolute, with no doubt or hesitation. Of course he will.] But not because you're a crystal, or because of your power. I'd do it even if you were a regular human.
[With most people, he'd end it there, would leave it at that because those who know him should know his meaning, wouldn't require him to spell it out for them. They'd understand that his care isn't conditional on what they can offer him in return. Most of the time his friends had already given much, much more to him already, and it's long past the point of what they may or may not deserve. Or... to be more on point, whether or not they're worthy of his power being used to defend them.
He almost doesn't continue, pauses a moment for the internal debate. With Pyra... maybe he needs to say it. Maybe she needs to hear it. She probably doesn't hear it enough. And so, finally:]
[ It's not her he should be protecting, but the world. Abandon such thoughts, she wishes to caution him. The future is far more important.... But that's not what he's saying here, either. He already knows the world is important. He's offering this because she's scared here.
That he offers it means more than she could ever try to convey in words. 'It's the thought that counts', essentially, because his words weigh so much-- not as a burden that cripples her, but as a treasure she wishes to protect.
It's because of this thought that she's able to smile a little more warmly again at him. ] Before coming here. The world was protected. I was encased and... sunk below the Cloud-Sea.
Here, I... [ She shakes her head, uncertain. On the one hand, she is awake. She likes to believe she has done some good here, contributing to a common cause of saving this world-- something she wouldn't be able to do in her own. On the other, she shouldn't be awake (even if she knows in the future she will not be anyway). ]
I feel safe with you. [ Without being entombed and sealed and tossed away? She would have once thought that impossible. A part of her is reluctant still, worried that this feeling of security is false. Perhaps it is. But it's nice to have, all the same. ]
[Encased, and sunk… that doesn't sound safe so much as buried and forgotten, like a piece of treasure instead of a person. But even if it doesn't sound safe in his mind, it isn't up to him what makes her feel safe. If being hidden away doesn't hurt her, if she feels better like that rather than exposed and at risk of being used, that isn't his call to make. Even so, it… doesn't sound much at all like living.
He's glad if he can give her even a fraction of that feeling of safety just by being here. There's a moment of uncertain quiet, and then he shifts his hand impulsively to touch her hand- not to take it, as she'd pulled away, but to create a point of contact, should it happen to reassure her the way she so often reassures him.]
If I do anything to change that, will you tell me? I won't mean to, but...
[He's young and impulsive and reckless and occasionally very stupid, and his usual handlers aren't always around to rein him in and remind him of how he ought to behave. He'd rather ask this honesty of her and be corrected than damage whatever reassurance that his presence offers to her now.]
[ Even now, he thinks of her. In truth, she worries for his safety more than she does her own...
Pyra inches closer to him. That she's lying beside him should be proof enough, shouldn't it? --No, she knows. They've done this before. But here and now, it feels different, somehow. More meaningful.
Or perhaps that's just her. She knows how she feels, after all. The great ache of guilt and fear with her chest serves as a surrogate for a human heart, but it also beats with hope, affection. And if the future of either of their worlds contains those with such endearing traits that he shows, she believes that... the future will be just fine. ] You have my word.
...And you, too, mm? You'll tell me, if... If I ever hurt you.
[He's not always the best at sharing how feels, especially when he's hurt and it might hurt someone else to know about it, but he can hardly expect openness from her and not give the same in return. At the very least, he can make the attempt to be more open when he's struggling, though it's rare that such feelings are sourced from her. She's actually helped him feel good these days. Much, much better than he would otherwise feel. That in itself isn't unusual, but even so, it feels as if something has changed.]
I guess... I just want both of us to feel safe. Here, at least. [In this little house they share.] It's been a while.
[ She wants to bring her hand up to his cheek. She wants to run her fingers through his hair. She wants to tell him everything will be okay.
They're safer here than they are in their respective worlds, perhaps, although Pyra is not entirely convinced that this world is safe with her in it either. She grapples with how to describe this feeling, of feeling safe yet anxious at the same time-- or, perhaps, cautious to feel safe in the face of that anxiousness. She's sure he can understand. ] It's... tense. As if, we bring these feelings from our own world back with us, to this one. [ Even if the danger is not present, in Noctis' case. ]
Perhaps in the meantime-- it could be a home. A place where one is safe, comfortable, loved.
[Safe, comfortable, loved. It sounds wonderful, a distant dream. How long had it been, before this place, that he was able to feel so at ease? Months, most likely, at least until his arrival here. And even in this world there are times when he feels ghosts of those same fears echoed in his heart, cold memories of the dark driven to the surface, unwanted anxieties reminding him of who he is and where he's meant to be. He dreads those moments, a cold splash of reality to wrench him away from the joyous and carefree life he's craving. It makes sense that these feelings would linger- being away from home would not stop them from experiencing whatever they carry with them from one world to another.
And yet, she can smile at him. And yet he can feel a warmth rushing through him at the sight of her smile directed towards him. And yet, even with everything he feels and knows and has seen... he can smile back at her, tentative as ever, but grateful, directing that same warmth towards her in turn. Home is here. With her, with Prompto, with family.
Strange, but… he doesn't dislike it, not a bit.]
Home sweet home, huh? That sounds pretty good to me.
[ If nothing else, she hopes that this conversation will reassure him that he's free to speak with her if he needs to, since he's still working through his intended future... ]
And you've made it such a lovely home, too. [ She reflects, softly. Safe with him, comfortable in this place-- she has two criteria checked off. As for love, she has that from him in the form of friendship, family. She hopes he feels the same way, safe in the sense as either of them can be, comfortable here. But if he were to leave... ]
I think, Noctis... that you're the one who makes this a home. [ Like a keystone to a bridge, the central part where everyone comes around to. Except, others come to him, she believes, not for his function, but for his personality, who he is. If that is too heavy, though, she sighs out through her nose in a short laugh, ] Even if it can be a little messy.
[It feels strange to hear someone else say that; he's had a handful of different homes over the years, from the Citadel to his private apartment to the Regalia itself on the road, and what made it home was never his own presence. He was just what existed there, the one constant presence he could rely on as others floated around him living their own lives or drifted away to leave him alone. They were home because others were there, or because it was his own space, or because it was all he had left of his true home.
With that logic, it stands to reason why someone else would feel similarly towards him. Still… unusual. Has he ever made somewhere a home for someone else before? He could ask Prompto, but that sort of sap isn't usually their thing. And he's not sure if his father's had enough time with him to feel that way yet, considering how much he may have avoided the child who reminded him of his lost wife in the early years. Ignis… Ignis is complicated.
His shoulders drop with a bit more eased tension, accepting her subject shift. This sort of thing is probably better left without overthinking it.]
You want to leave a mess for us to clean, too? I think you've earned a turn.
[BIG OOF. Weird enough when Ignis was still trying to do his laundry when he was a full-grown adult, nevermind a lady who has no business or obligation to be looking at his underthings, or he looking at hers. He knew better than to touch Luna's laundry, too, and they were technically still engaged.]
I… think I'd rather keep our laundry separate, actually. Though- can you make them all vanish and reappear, or just the one outfit?
[It would be pretty cool to have the closet equivalent of an armory. Never without something cool to wear.]
[ She giggles at his reaction, then sifts her upper half in response to his question. ] Just this outfit. [ To demonstrate, she lets the fabric that covers her skin vanish just from her shoulders, as if to make a halter top out of her outfit. ]
[His eyes widen of course, pleased and impressed. He'd known she could reform them, but he hadn't seen its design changed before, and in general he likes seeing what she can do, new or old.]
Whoa, you can be that precise with it? That's awesome… best I've got is this.
[He reaches up to tap at his chest, and the dark jacket he's always wearing vanishes into his magic armory in a burst of the same familiar blue crystals like always. Nothing she hasn't seen before.]
He's called it right. Basically, her form is a facade about the crystal.
Her eyes flutter with the display of lights and crystals as his jacket vanishes. If the armiger is the best he has, she fails to see how her own clothes work is any impressive. Nevertheless, she nods. ]
...Er. I don't send my clothes to a pocket dimension, Noct. [ She says, partly in disbelief. Wherever he puts his items, that's tiers more impressive. ] They only dismantle and reassemble as needed...
"Only", she says. Being able to change your outfit on the fly sounds really useful, you know. I'd love to not have to waste Armiger space on an extra pair of socks.
[Even if it were just sleeves or no sleeves, that would be amazing. You'd never need a jacket!]
Socks are an upgrade from eggplants, aren't they? [ She laughs softly again. ]
Ah, you know... it was my first time wearing real clothes, when you gifted me them. [ First modern clothes, truthfully. She had worn togas around Somnus. But do togas really count? ] And your jacket was comfortable, too. The skulls are a nice touch.
[Well, okay, they're not that subtle. And he does sort of wear them all over the place.]
Lucian black clothes with skulls usually means a Crownsguard, or someone with royal favour, back home. Ignis would say, "wear it with pride".
[Assuming she ever needs to borrow the jacket again… though maybe in light of what he's learned, "need" no longer factor in. Still, if she wanted to, he doesn't think he'd especially mind.]
Six, I hope not, or we've been doing it wrong this whole time. Technically Gladio ranks higher than Ignis, but Iggy's got loads more on his uniform. I figure it just comes down to preference.
[Though if that were the case, it might explain why his shirt had a million skulls all over it. Hard to rank higher than the crown prince. Prompto would definitely have more skulls on his, though.]
Why, you want some skulls on your clothes?
[It's half in jest, but he's watching closely. He hasn't taken their connection seriously in that direction - it's not her job to protect him, and he hadn't intended to recruit her for that - but it's different if she wants it. She certainly has his favour already, if it wasn't already obvious.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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How does she convey this? ]
...Just power. [ Status, the want to change the world, or to protect it comes second to that. ] None hurt me. [ She closes her eyes, hesitant. He needs to know.
So with a heaviness, she finally admits: ] But we hurt them, those unworthy who sought to claim us.
[ —Even members of Addam’s own family, until she had finally been passed to him. Not that at the time she can accurately say they were themselves. They hadn’t been human in any sense of the word. Everything had been— abrupt, automatic: others tried, and they were violently rejected.
She hadn't feared hurting others then. She hadn't felt anything at all. Now, she does. ]
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I can understand that. Any power's only as good or bad as whoever's using it, right? In the wrong hands, terrible things can happen. It's better to be careful than not.
[The one judging who is or isn't worthy... they can be wrong, it's true. There have been some kings of Lucis who perhaps ought not have been worthy, who were deemed so purely by the blood in their veins. And there have been citizens of Lucis who could have been worthy but were not chosen, or at least were made to pay a high price.
He thinks of Ravus, of the injury he'd received trying to steal the ring. Noctis only knew bits and pieces from Luna, but he'd lost an arm in his hunt for power. Others have burned alive. And even he himself wasn't left unscathed. And the ring's power is... terrifying. He's glad the kings that dwell within show at least some discernment in who gets to use it.
Pyra's had to be the one to pass such judgment - along with the mysterious Mythra - and it's hard to imagine her in the same cold, calculating position as the kings of yore, but he can also see her doing what's necessary to protect the future. If that meant hurting the wrong person to keep that power away from them, then so be it.]
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She does not like seeing mortals vying for her power. But she can also understand it-- perhaps, even sympathize with it-- all the way back to the man who had first stolen both her and her brother from the Architect. He wanted answers. He demanded them. Perhaps at one point, he had even wanted better. Why create a world like this, one so wrought with war and strife, one in which so many suffer, one in which its creator is silent and does nothing? And so he had stolen from the Architect himself.
Power means little without control. Power is also a conundrum: does it corrupt or does it reveal? Noctis has immense power. It hasn't tainted his heart.
Her voice drops. ]
You... understand. [ Here she is, confessing that she's hurt others for trying. He may not condone it, but... he seems to understand. ]
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When I was a kid, I asked why the Crystal only belonged to Lucis, if it was meant to help everyone. It and the ring both offer so much power, but it's given only to a few of us, the family that the gods picked to protect the world. It didn't seem fair to me. But I was told that we're not using it, we're guarding it. For thousands of years we've kept it safe, gathered power over time until it was ready.
[And until he was ready. And whether or not he believes himself "worthy", it chose him, so that's that.]
When my family pulled the wall back to cover only Insomnia... when Dad agreed to the treaty that abandoned all those lands to the Nifs... or when he sent me out on a ruse just to protect me. A lot of people got hurt, or were killed. Plenty lost their homes, and they resented us for good reason.
[He exhales a soft breath, and looks at her again.]
I didn't understand for a long time. But that much power... it needs to be protected, or even more people could get hurt, or the world itself could die. I don't have to like it to know that this is better. So yeah... I get it.
[People can hate them for it- that's fine. At least they're still alive.]
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After all of that, he doesn't say the power ought to be destroyed, the very same one bestowed onto his family as a blessing, but behaves more like a curse for all the suffering it's brought. Instead, he says it should be protected. He can look past the hardships and the weight of being chosen in light of the world. Not only that, but he can express himself still. He can admit that it doesn't feel fair. Yet in delivering this, he has testified to that wisdom she has seen in him before. In this moment, her eyes meet his when he looks back to her. She lowers her head. For a while, she doesn't say anything. It guilts her, of course. "This is better"-- it's no different than him saying that his death is better.
It would be easy to turn this to him, after him saying all that. She's done it so many times before, when he's spoken of himself. Others, too. They tell their stories, and like clockwork she inquires further.
...But she doesn't do that here. ]
Are you saying... you will protect me?
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Her question, at least, requires no long thought on his part.]
I will. [His tone is calm and resolute, with no doubt or hesitation. Of course he will.] But not because you're a crystal, or because of your power. I'd do it even if you were a regular human.
[With most people, he'd end it there, would leave it at that because those who know him should know his meaning, wouldn't require him to spell it out for them. They'd understand that his care isn't conditional on what they can offer him in return. Most of the time his friends had already given much, much more to him already, and it's long past the point of what they may or may not deserve. Or... to be more on point, whether or not they're worthy of his power being used to defend them.
He almost doesn't continue, pauses a moment for the internal debate. With Pyra... maybe he needs to say it. Maybe she needs to hear it. She probably doesn't hear it enough. And so, finally:]
I'll protect you because you're my friend.
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That he offers it means more than she could ever try to convey in words. 'It's the thought that counts', essentially, because his words weigh so much-- not as a burden that cripples her, but as a treasure she wishes to protect.
It's because of this thought that she's able to smile a little more warmly again at him. ] Before coming here. The world was protected. I was encased and... sunk below the Cloud-Sea.
Here, I... [ She shakes her head, uncertain. On the one hand, she is awake. She likes to believe she has done some good here, contributing to a common cause of saving this world-- something she wouldn't be able to do in her own. On the other, she shouldn't be awake (even if she knows in the future she will not be anyway). ]
I feel safe with you. [ Without being entombed and sealed and tossed away? She would have once thought that impossible. A part of her is reluctant still, worried that this feeling of security is false. Perhaps it is. But it's nice to have, all the same. ]
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He's glad if he can give her even a fraction of that feeling of safety just by being here. There's a moment of uncertain quiet, and then he shifts his hand impulsively to touch her hand- not to take it, as she'd pulled away, but to create a point of contact, should it happen to reassure her the way she so often reassures him.]
If I do anything to change that, will you tell me? I won't mean to, but...
[He's young and impulsive and reckless and occasionally very stupid, and his usual handlers aren't always around to rein him in and remind him of how he ought to behave. He'd rather ask this honesty of her and be corrected than damage whatever reassurance that his presence offers to her now.]
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Pyra inches closer to him. That she's lying beside him should be proof enough, shouldn't it? --No, she knows. They've done this before. But here and now, it feels different, somehow. More meaningful.
Or perhaps that's just her. She knows how she feels, after all. The great ache of guilt and fear with her chest serves as a surrogate for a human heart, but it also beats with hope, affection. And if the future of either of their worlds contains those with such endearing traits that he shows, she believes that... the future will be just fine. ] You have my word.
...And you, too, mm? You'll tell me, if... If I ever hurt you.
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[He's not always the best at sharing how feels, especially when he's hurt and it might hurt someone else to know about it, but he can hardly expect openness from her and not give the same in return. At the very least, he can make the attempt to be more open when he's struggling, though it's rare that such feelings are sourced from her. She's actually helped him feel good these days. Much, much better than he would otherwise feel. That in itself isn't unusual, but even so, it feels as if something has changed.]
I guess... I just want both of us to feel safe. Here, at least. [In this little house they share.] It's been a while.
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They're safer here than they are in their respective worlds, perhaps, although Pyra is not entirely convinced that this world is safe with her in it either. She grapples with how to describe this feeling, of feeling safe yet anxious at the same time-- or, perhaps, cautious to feel safe in the face of that anxiousness. She's sure he can understand. ] It's... tense. As if, we bring these feelings from our own world back with us, to this one. [ Even if the danger is not present, in Noctis' case. ]
Perhaps in the meantime-- it could be a home. A place where one is safe, comfortable, loved.
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And yet, she can smile at him. And yet he can feel a warmth rushing through him at the sight of her smile directed towards him. And yet, even with everything he feels and knows and has seen... he can smile back at her, tentative as ever, but grateful, directing that same warmth towards her in turn. Home is here. With her, with Prompto, with family.
Strange, but… he doesn't dislike it, not a bit.]
Home sweet home, huh? That sounds pretty good to me.
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And you've made it such a lovely home, too. [ She reflects, softly. Safe with him, comfortable in this place-- she has two criteria checked off. As for love, she has that from him in the form of friendship, family. She hopes he feels the same way, safe in the sense as either of them can be, comfortable here. But if he were to leave... ]
I think, Noctis... that you're the one who makes this a home. [ Like a keystone to a bridge, the central part where everyone comes around to. Except, others come to him, she believes, not for his function, but for his personality, who he is. If that is too heavy, though, she sighs out through her nose in a short laugh, ] Even if it can be a little messy.
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With that logic, it stands to reason why someone else would feel similarly towards him. Still… unusual. Has he ever made somewhere a home for someone else before? He could ask Prompto, but that sort of sap isn't usually their thing. And he's not sure if his father's had enough time with him to feel that way yet, considering how much he may have avoided the child who reminded him of his lost wife in the early years. Ignis… Ignis is complicated.
His shoulders drop with a bit more eased tension, accepting her subject shift. This sort of thing is probably better left without overthinking it.]
You want to leave a mess for us to clean, too? I think you've earned a turn.
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Since he's taken her option for a subject change, she continues with it. ]
Oh... Is doing my laundry an option?
[ Now that she has actual clothes... ]
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I… think I'd rather keep our laundry separate, actually. Though- can you make them all vanish and reappear, or just the one outfit?
[It would be pretty cool to have the closet equivalent of an armory. Never without something cool to wear.]
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Like so.
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Whoa, you can be that precise with it? That's awesome… best I've got is this.
[He reaches up to tap at his chest, and the dark jacket he's always wearing vanishes into his magic armory in a burst of the same familiar blue crystals like always. Nothing she hasn't seen before.]
Is it because it's a construct, like your body?
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He's called it right. Basically, her form is a facade about the crystal.
Her eyes flutter with the display of lights and crystals as his jacket vanishes. If the armiger is the best he has, she fails to see how her own clothes work is any impressive. Nevertheless, she nods. ]
...Er. I don't send my clothes to a pocket dimension, Noct. [ She says, partly in disbelief. Wherever he puts his items, that's tiers more impressive. ] They only dismantle and reassemble as needed...
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[Even if it were just sleeves or no sleeves, that would be amazing. You'd never need a jacket!]
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Ah, you know... it was my first time wearing real clothes, when you gifted me them. [ First modern clothes, truthfully. She had worn togas around Somnus.
But do togas really count?] And your jacket was comfortable, too. The skulls are a nice touch.no subject
[Well, okay, they're not that subtle. And he does sort of wear them all over the place.]
Lucian black clothes with skulls usually means a Crownsguard, or someone with royal favour, back home. Ignis would say, "wear it with pride".
[Assuming she ever needs to borrow the jacket again… though maybe in light of what he's learned, "need" no longer factor in. Still, if she wanted to, he doesn't think he'd especially mind.]
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Does it go with rank? The more skulls you wear, the closer to Noctis Lucis Caelum you are?
[ She's joking, of course, but the imagery is cute: just how many skulls does Prompto have on his outfit... ]
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[Though if that were the case, it might explain why his shirt had a million skulls all over it. Hard to rank higher than the crown prince. Prompto would definitely have more skulls on his, though.]
Why, you want some skulls on your clothes?
[It's half in jest, but he's watching closely. He hasn't taken their connection seriously in that direction - it's not her job to protect him, and he hadn't intended to recruit her for that - but it's different if she wants it. She certainly has his favour already, if it wasn't already obvious.]
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Er... would I be allowed?
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