[ ignis can admit it, if to no one but himself, that he'd been distracted at the tail-end there. when all three of his allies were strewn about the battlefield like toys knocked askew, shouting in varying degrees of triumph and/or pain, yes, even his meticulous brand of attention could get stretched thin. a little too thin, in this case. a particularly sharp yelp from prompto's corner of the skirmish had caught his ear, and in the process of darting a glance over to make sure all of their gunner's limbs were accounted for, he'd missed noctis' switch from pole arm to dagger.
by the time he realized the blood spatter was less a spatter and more like a torrent, well. it was a little too late to do much about it. ]
Regrettably so.
[ ignis says, terse and taut, the words coming out unpleasantly and horrendously thick. he tastes copper. he tastes a lot of things that he'd rather not right now, each note of flavour doing wonders in turning his gut into a churning pit of hell while simultaneously grating his nerves down to raw, frayed wires.
he lifts a hand to pull his glasses from his face. a gob of still-warm ichor oozes down his cheek in a back-straightening line. he doesn't shudder, but it's a very, very near thing.
the look he turns on noctis in that singular moment should, by all rights, fry the young king where he stands. ]
omg no its perfect
by the time he realized the blood spatter was less a spatter and more like a torrent, well. it was a little too late to do much about it. ]
Regrettably so.
[ ignis says, terse and taut, the words coming out unpleasantly and horrendously thick. he tastes copper. he tastes a lot of things that he'd rather not right now, each note of flavour doing wonders in turning his gut into a churning pit of hell while simultaneously grating his nerves down to raw, frayed wires.
he lifts a hand to pull his glasses from his face. a gob of still-warm ichor oozes down his cheek in a back-straightening line. he doesn't shudder, but it's a very, very near thing.
the look he turns on noctis in that singular moment should, by all rights, fry the young king where he stands. ]