keepcalmcookon | FOR RHOK: Pray Take Me to the Rising Stones

FOR RHOK: Pray Take Me to the Rising Stones

Ignis usually doesn't seek Rhok out. In fact, they've only recently reached some sort of general truce. There had never been any real animosity between them, but it had taken time for Ignis to accept that Felih was married to someone other than him. But he had taken a year to get here, and so much can change in a year--it was really his fault, thinking he could take his time while Felih had a life to live, and focus on helping save people on Eos.

This time, however, he has--and has found Rhok--Felih's husband, somehow--sitting at a table by himself in Carline Canopy, Mother Miounne's tavern and inn while the others are off to the markets for crafting wares.

"Is this seat taken?" Ignis asks of a seat across the table, his hand resting on top of its back.

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When Ignis brings up the note he left, O'rhok's ears dip a little before he smartens up and hits the kid with a sour look instead.

"That- okay, hmm." To be completely fair to Ignis, Rhok only knows what a bad idea a taunting-but-well-meant letter is because he pulled the same stunt once before pulling a two-day disappearing act of his own. "You didn't mention me at all, did you?" He did? Well shit, Ignis! "Just for that, I'm letting something bite you."

The flight is relatively boring except that, once they're well over the south shroud and descending over dry scrubland and red clay, their linkpearls stop going off. Rhok can't say what sickly sweet tone Felih uses on Ignis, but sticks his hand in his bag and starts rifling around for something. Inkwell? That works. When Ignis's call ends and Rhok's starts to chime instead- the Miqo'te removes his pearl before opening the link.

"O'RHOK TIA-" He throws the ink-well at Ignis, which is more likely to go over the side of the ship and plop into the desert than hit him, and turns away to soothe his mate.

Highlights of that conversation include:

-"Felih, I'm not gonna stuff him in a fox den."
-"I'm not gonna lead him into a gobbue's mouth either."
-"As if I would waste a good S-rank on him."
-"No I didn't blackmail him."

And finally:

"Oh no you're- Khsssshsh you're breaking up! The grgrgrgr interference! I-" and he ends the call, and points at Ignis

"I'm letting two things bite you!"

Edited (I didn't finish whoops) 2019-10-05 15:20 (UTC)

Ignis almost feels guilty when Rhok says he'll let something bite him. He assumed that Felih would panic a bit but also trust both of his mates to keep each other alive. There's been no real animosity between them, just awkwardness. Rhok might be a bit... unique in several matters, but he's serious about his duties (which now include keeping Ignis alive).

He definitely feels guilty when Felih hails his linkpearl first. Worried, but trying not to sound it, making sure he's being well taken care of. Ignis tries to triage as much as he can, telling the truth that this was his idea first, and that he trusted Rhok and his skills. He promised he would be careful and not bite off more than he could chew. Syncing to more Aetherytes was simply far overdue, and he needed a wider freedom of movement.

Ignis glances back towards Rhok as Felih shouts over his link pearl, just in time to see an ink well hurling towards--well, it doesn't matter where it goes, because he just miraculously caught it. At least his reflexes haven't changed, nor how used he is to bullshit. There's both amusement and guilt as he overhears snippets despite him not trying. It's good to hear how much Felih loves him, though... and how he'll yell at his husband on his behalf.

The way Rhok ends the call, though, makes him laugh--and Ignis just shrugs at the threat, walking up to Rhok to hand him back his ink well. "I suppose that's fair payment. Also, you dropped this."

Rhok just sticks his tongue out at the ink-well, but does accept it and tuck it back into his bag. Your reflexes serve you well, Scientia, but you won't always be watching. You won't always be ready!

Their arrival in Ul'dah is smooth and, aside from whatever wandering and awing Ignis feels like doing, uneventful. The only two places Rhok puts any emphasis on are the Adventurer's guild and aytheryte plaza, but if Ignis should feel like taking a turn around the Sapphire Avenue or Pearl lane, Rhok will be happy to tag along. Aethernet attunment is almost as important as Aytherytes, sometimes.

"You're from a big city, yeah? You know the drill." Don't show your purse in public, don't make it obvious when you get turned around. Try not to stab anyone and definitely don't get stabbed or stolen from!

"But if you've ever got a handful of gil and an afternoon to kill, the Bloodsands are definitely the place to be." The weaver's guild, he insists, has nothing Tataru can't make better as far as quality and style go. "Bit unfair for most of us to compete in these days, but if you wanna test your mettle it's a good opportunity to risk nothing more than a few bruises and some pride."

You won't always be looking, either! But Ignis just grins and says nothing. They have an understanding of a nature.

"I do. You'll see no trouble from me."

Ignis was actually interested in the weaver's guild, but he can look at that on his own time. He does insist on checking out the aetheryte shards to save himself time. He lets Rhok tell him about the places of importance and nods to the reminder to not let people know what sort of money he's carrying. Or attack people. Pretty basic.

"I'm not the sort for such theatrics." Ignis's eyes turn back to the architecture, because he really is appreciating all of it. It's so different from Gridania. "But I would like to get the shards while we are here."

Ignis is keeping it to business, but he does keep on taking glances of the architecture. It reminds him of... the Citadel, truthfully. Wider and different but oh so similar. He has to take a moment to blink back emotion from his eyes.

"How long are we to remain here again?" Ignis knows, but he just wants a moment to not listen as he composes himself.

True to his word, Rhok has no issue navigating the city to help Ignis find the shards, tempted though he is to just use one and leave linkpearl hints as to how to find him. This isn't really the time for a wild chocobo chase, so they handle their business like grown-ups, or something.

"As long as you care to," is his answer about their stay. "It's getting on in the day. We might not make it to Horizon before nightfall but I doubt they'd close the gates on us." To play it safe they'd be best off spending the night at the Adventurer's guild and striking out tomorrow morning. "This is your trip, you make the call. I'm as used to tents as I am to inns." In the off-chance that they do arrive at second bell to find the settlement's gate dropped to protect the merchants from the night.

Ignis appreciates the discretion. He doesn't want to take up more of Rhok's time than necessary. Although Rhok would have enjoyed it.

"I'd rather arrive refreshed," Ignis replies after a moment of thought. "It wouldn't do if I made everyone's first impression tired and dirty from the road."

Practical, but Ignis isn't against staying in tents. He just wants to look like a man of refinement. Being a part of a royal court means proper hygiene.

Easy-peasy. Momodi at the Adventurer's guild is a delight, happy to take Scion gil and add Ignis to the roster for future visits. Since there's still a touch of daylight to burn once their lodging is secured for the night, Rhok turns to Ignis with an easy grin.

"I might as well run out to the Goldsmith's guild while we're here, they've been holding onto something for me. What're your thoughts?" Tag along or split up? The worst danger in Ul'dah is pick-pockets and neither of them look like easy marks.

Life is much easier now that he's a Scion and has met up with the Warriors of Light. He's no longer homeless and now always has some way to sleep with a roof over his head as long as he's careful to plan where he ends his days. He was used to sleeping in tents before when he and the others were low on money, at least.

"I won't mind tagging along if you don't," Ignis is actually curious to learn more about crafting in general; Felih and Bri make such pretty things.

They do indeed make beautiful things, but they got their start at the same guild that calls Ul’dah its home.

The nicest part about Ul’dah is how much of it is inside. The sukhs join together one after the other to create a labyrinth of covered streets, and it’s down one of these causeways that they find the Goldsmith’s guild.

“Felih’s told you what being a Nunh means, right?” He asks as they make their way inside, ears up and tail swaying curiously. Both Sunseekers have made the effort and been awarded their titles, and Rhok felt this warranted a little splurge.

A sharp-eyed lalafell is there to greet them, a familiar sharkish grin and mean bargaining streak already obvious even if Rhok knows his purchases are paid for. A Conara, and just as bad as her sister in the Scions.

He's quite happy to be inside from the punishing sun (even if it is setting). He's also happy to see the guild that Felih has mentioned in passing before. At first, he questioned the usefulness of learning all of these skills--up until the point he realized how potent the equipment was. Learning such skills means he can make things for back home that don't rely on Noct's power--and help with their world in the process.

"That 'Nunh' describes the amount of sleep you'll get while tending to your duties, yes," Ignis quips back, smiling. "Congratulations are in order. Consider lunch as having been my treat."

He's not bringing that up to be an asshole; he just finds that it's a fun addition to the conversation as he nod to the lalafell with amusement on Rhok's behalf in his eyes.

"It's not a lot, let me tell you." Sleep, that is.

Congratulations or no, what passes between Rhok and Pinya's kinswoman is an immediate attempt and refusal to upsell. Such lovely earrings need a- no. And What a spectacular pendant must require- no thank you. You see such a stunning band should- pass.

"I have three on the way already," Rhok explains as he collects three small parcels from the guild. "When there're more, I'll order more." A set of earrings, simple studs that shine like starfire when their box is opened for his inspection. A white-gold pendant, polished and worked so lovingly that the silver teardrop casts its own kind of moonlight. And an armlet, a clever thing adjustable in size and made again of white gold. None of the gifts are gendered or bejeweled, just plain white gold with that stunning luster to them.

"Our secret," he says, a finger to his lips as they leave with the balance paid and treasures safely tucked away on his person. "I know Felih could've made them just as well but I didn't want something from us, just me. I'm a prick, remember?"

He's already come to accept that he's not going to be there for his kits as much as his sire was for him, or any other Nunh, really. The next fight could kill him. The next world-jump could be his last. There might not be a tomorrow, and if there is he has as much chance of being caught in some world-stakes conflict as he does of being with his tribe to watch his children bring down their first hunt or teach his Tia how to fight.

"I just want them to know I care. I want them to have something to remind them." Because it's important. They's his kits. "Alright, enough bullshit. Dinner. What, and who's paying?"

Ignis smirks, having expected as much. Being Warriors of Lights and Nunhs made it hard on Felih and Rhok to get sleep. Everyone wanted kits from them, likely.

He approves of the choices; simple yet beautiful and not things that would be entirely out of place in an active tribe such as O. When it's clear that Rhok isn't going to buy anymore, the Lalafell turns her sights on Ignis. The refusal is easy: he doesn't have the coin and the one he'd get it for can make his own jewelry. Ignis makes a note to come back another time to ask about learning the craft, but for now, he just calmly tells her no. Haggling is something he got used to while on the road with Noct, Prompto, and Gladio.

"Our secret." Ignis understands the desire; things just from Rhok will have more meaning. "It's a good choice."

He smiles a bit at the change of topic; he actually saw into Rhok's heart for a moment, but just as quickly saw it close again. Which is probably a good thing, because Ignis was half-tempted to tease the soon-to-be father. Ignis is happy for Rhok, but there's a small part of him that flashes with jealousy. He will never have children of his own, considering neither he nor Felih can carry kits. Adoption might be an option, and will likely be the route he goes--there's so many children that need parents in Eorzea that it should be simple enough to find a few to take under his wing once everything on Eos is more... settled.

"Your choice, so long as it is within the limits of my coin purse." He's still a wee adventurer, after all. "I'll pay for the food and cook on the road; it'd be uncouth for me to do otherwise after requesting your help. My only requests are to be exposed to the various culinary flavors of each nation, and that we patronize smaller establishments or street vendors owned by families or individuals who have the right... passion."

Ignis wants the authentic experience.

Authentic, hmm? Oh, oh he knows just the place.

"Pearl lane, follow me!" One of the dirtier streets in Ul'dah, awfully close to being a slum (or as close as the syndicate will allow within the walls of their golden city). They have to walk and wander a bit to find it, but once they do Rhok points out a building with a bunch of tents and shanties built up around it, makeshift extensions that spill into the crooked lane.

There's the smell and sizzle of spiced meats and sweet breads, and the two adventurer's duck past the hanging rugs to find a very large and ramshackle seating area filled with all sorts. The tables are low and the cushions and carpets spread over the ground shift from threadbare mothballs to gold-stitched beauties. A roegadyn woman is quick to see and direct them further inside and over the actual threshhold of the building, where the dim lighting and heavy carpetting continues.

Despite the desert heat, there's a large stone oven that takes up the heart of this eatery, its mouth open and showing baking meat pies, flat bread, cheese and vegetable dishes and succulent meats.

"Pick a meat, pick a veg, and the rest they pick out for us." Rhok has such a grin on his face, they're gonna be stuffed by the time they get back to the Quicksand.

"Perfect."

Ignis doesn't mind the not so pristine street; that's where some of the best food often is. Cheaper rent, more passion. People come here for the food more than the decor. The scents make his stomach grumble even before they duck inside the place--and he takes it back about the environment. It's homey, altogether different than one would ever get at a 'high-end' establishment. Comfortable.

"I'd just as soon leave everything up to them," Ignis replies with a laugh. "Surprise me."

He's discovered that asking what the staff prefers always ends with a satisfying meal.

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FOR RHOK: Pray Take Me to the Rising Stones

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D20 was kind so Ignis uses it to his advantage (D19)

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