For a moment, the fact that he can hear waves, is soaking wet, and can still smell the sea almost convinces Ignis he's in Altissia. Pain--dull in some places, sharp and stabbing in others--wraps around him as he fights back the urge to shiver. His hand closes against where it's pressed to the ground and that is when he starts to realize he's not where he thought he was. Sand? Why is he laying in sand when he'd last been pinned to a cold, hard street?
Unconsciously, he rolls away from whatever he is laying half on and half off. Such a small movement, but it causes all his aches and pains to roar back to life. Ignis face is wet, but he's half afraid to reach up. Is it water or blood that is causing the dampness? Most of the pain he's feeling is focused behind and across his eyes, that pain stronger and sharper than the fading pain in a once dislocated shoulder and shattered knee.
Ignis knows he should pull himself up and take stock of his location, but he finds even raising one arm beyond him at the moment. He winces at his own weakness, fingers tightening in the sand once more as the memory of Chancellor Izunia's mocking face slinks through his mind. Wasn't blinding him enough? What in the name of the Six is going on? Where is Noctis? Was the covenant successfully forced? What of the Oracle?
There are a million questions he needs answers to, but trying to approach them all at once isn't possible. With a deep breath, Ignis starts to sort them into order of importance. It's calming, feeding his need to reclaim control over something. How he's going to start finding answers with his vision gone is just one more question on the pile.
Once he's calmer, Ignis reaches toward the armory hoping to pull the familiar weight of his daggers to hand. His heart freezes when there is no response. Perhaps, he's just too tired. Focusing harder, he tries to pull something smaller--a simple potion bottle. There is still no answer and he swears his heart stops in his chest as he finally manages to raise his right arm, pressing the wet leather of his gloved hand to an equally wet face.
As soon as he'd been taken down, he'd written off Altissia as an unmitigated disaster. Now?
A soft, bitter, and broken laugh slips from his mouth.
Initial Arrival - Closed to Ignis
Unconsciously, he rolls away from whatever he is laying half on and half off. Such a small movement, but it causes all his aches and pains to roar back to life. Ignis face is wet, but he's half afraid to reach up. Is it water or blood that is causing the dampness? Most of the pain he's feeling is focused behind and across his eyes, that pain stronger and sharper than the fading pain in a once dislocated shoulder and shattered knee.
Ignis knows he should pull himself up and take stock of his location, but he finds even raising one arm beyond him at the moment. He winces at his own weakness, fingers tightening in the sand once more as the memory of Chancellor Izunia's mocking face slinks through his mind. Wasn't blinding him enough? What in the name of the Six is going on? Where is Noctis? Was the covenant successfully forced? What of the Oracle?
There are a million questions he needs answers to, but trying to approach them all at once isn't possible. With a deep breath, Ignis starts to sort them into order of importance. It's calming, feeding his need to reclaim control over something. How he's going to start finding answers with his vision gone is just one more question on the pile.
Once he's calmer, Ignis reaches toward the armory hoping to pull the familiar weight of his daggers to hand. His heart freezes when there is no response. Perhaps, he's just too tired. Focusing harder, he tries to pull something smaller--a simple potion bottle. There is still no answer and he swears his heart stops in his chest as he finally manages to raise his right arm, pressing the wet leather of his gloved hand to an equally wet face.
As soon as he'd been taken down, he'd written off Altissia as an unmitigated disaster. Now?
A soft, bitter, and broken laugh slips from his mouth.
"Bloody hell..."