[That too is a joke on his part. However, there's some true to it. Fynn often brings his work home with him and he does have a pair of handcuffs sitting around.]
Of course. [Fynn can't help but roll his eyes at his brother.] You think I would cook using your pots and pans, and not invite you? For shame!
[A chuckle escapes him as he starts cutting up the veggies. He hopes Ardyn doesn't mind asparagus with garlic and a hint of olive oil. He likes to mince fresh garlic for this dish, none of that garlic powder nonsense. Despite loving junk food a bit much, Fynn tends to be very snobbish about what ingredients he uses for cooking.]
So, what have you've been up to? Raising hell for your poor students?
[The amusement doesn’t leave him, even as he finds a spot to lean against the counter, but giving Fynn enough space to work at his own pace. Asparagus, garlic, olive oil… he doesn’t mind any of it one bit. Ardyn’s not a terrible cook himself, but if you put a gun to his head, even he’ll admit that Fynn is better. His snobbishness about ingredients shines through in the finished product more often than not.]
That’s a given. If I’m not strict, then they’re simply not motivated to learn the material. We can’t have that.
[A hum of amusement.] Beyond that? The usual. Dealing with the oddities that plague this city, memories and the like. [And yet, sometimes it seems that’s all they talk about these days. He’d rather shrug it off for now, for even the smallest modicum of normalcy.
So, a little sarcastically:]
Finding five pairs of the same sunglasses of yours in the living room alone.
[One day Fynn just might have to do that to hear those much needed compliments about his cooking. He's well aware he's the 'better' of two brothers but to hear it would mean the world to him. Although, much like Ardyn here, Fynn would never admit that. He's content enough knowing Ardyn likes his cooking well enough to pester him for a free meal.]
Geez, you're a real ball-buster but I bet the class is at least fun. [That's his round about way of showing he's proud that his brother is a professor at Recolle University.] Please tell me you haven't flunked the blond kid yet. What's his name again? Pompeii?
[He says that last bit with a grin. Fynn is well aware of Prompto's name.]
I have to admit, life in Recolle is getting mighty interesting. I'm not sure if I like it, Ardyn. [The cheer in his tone fades briefly only to appear once more once Ardyn mentions his love for aviators.] Hey! I keep losing them and then finding them a week later after someone moved them.
[ACCUSATIONS HAVE BEEN MADE!]
It's not my fault---Ow!
[Uh oh. Houston, we have a problem. There's blood on that knife now, Fynn's blood.]
Pompeii? [Okay, Ardyn actually laughs a little at that.] You mean Prompto? He’s not registered in my classes, he just likes to sit in and listen when he has the free time.
[Pompeii, though. He’s going to have to share that with Prompto sometime soon.
Ardyn opens his mouth to make another snide remark about Fynn’s tendency to solve his problem of lost sunglasses by continually buying more, but he’s cut off by his brother’s exclamation of pain.
He frowns, straightening, and the glistening of scarlet on the knife is not a good sign. Out goes all the motivation to be snarky, and instead he frowns in concern, stepping forward.]
[Fynn would've had more to say about poor Pompeii but he may have accidentally cut his damn thumb off just now. No, it's not that drastic but it's a nasty looking gash.]
I'll live.
[He quickly answers as he drops everything to reach for the paper towels. It's not often that Fynn makes a mistake in the kitchen. He's usually quite careful but he was mildly distracted earlier, no fault to Ardyn.]
I sure hope we got a first aid kit somewhere.
[Yeah, this might require more than just a bandaid.]
[Ardyn has something of a protective streak where Fynn is concerned, though it only really shows when his brother is sick or — like now — injured. It returns him back to a time, years ago, when his little brother was always at his side. When tending to him because of colds or fevers or scraped knees was priority, because their parents were more than happy to delegate the responsibility to Ardyn if he’d have it.
And so, Ardyn reaches out to grasp at Fynn’s wrist without really thinking. He wants to see if this requires stitches, because it’s bleeding an awful lot.]
Here, let me see it.
[The gash is wide, and scarlet threatens to bleed over to his own hand from the cut, and Ardyn cannot help but frown. Worry wells up, as it should with any concerned sibling.
(Somewhere, in his mind, he’s reminded of his memory — taking the hands of strangers, healing them of some terrible disease that he couldn’t remember the name of. Much like the way he was grasping at Fynn’s hand, examining the wound. How easy would it be to deal with this, if he could heal now, like in his memories?)
Something about these thoughts spark a warmness in his touch. A faint glow at his fingertips, and for a moment, it feels as natural as breathing. Fynn would feel the pain leave him, his skin beginning to heal—
Until the reality of the sight kicks in, and Ardyn retracts his hand in nothing short of surprise. He feels a sting on his own finger for no visible reason, but that’s not what worries him, because… What the hell just happened?
He just... glances at Fynn with confusion, and for a rare moment, words fail him.]
[You know, there's something reassuring about having your 'big brother' around. Fynn been close with Ardyn since he was young. Maybe that's why Fynn immediately took his brother's side when the feud with the folks begun. Their parents are pretentious fops who didn't want Ardyn to live a life they didn't approve of. While he still respects their wishes, Fynn damn sure didn't like that they hurt his brother in such a manner.]
Careful! I don't want to get blood all on you.
[He warns once Ardyn grabs his wrist. Leave it to him to worry more about Ardyn's clothes than himself. Fynn really does have a slight cavalier attitude about his well-being. He always has.]
...Ardyn?
[There's a hint of surprise in his tone once he feels something warm engulf his injured hand. It's hard to describe it but Fynn could feel something warm soothing away the pain. He knows for a fact that Ardyn didn't have any medicine nearby, so what is this odd sensation about? Fynn stands there looking utterly clueless until the faint glow of Ardyn's fingers triggers a distant memory.
He seen something like this before somewhere in a memory he forgotten but it wasn't quite like this. Fynn remembers seeing a tattoo or something glowing with a similar light. It wasn't his but someone else's. Fynn doesn't quite understand what he's witnessing here but he knows for a fact it's not normal.]
You...you healed it?
[The disbelief in his tone is telling. Fynn is in shock.]
Of course not. [The reply comes unnaturally quick, automatic and without really thinking.] Such a thing isn't possible.
[Except it had happened, plain as day, right before him. A glance at Fynn's hand shows stained blood, but not flowing crimson. It's gone, and his own finger aches as if he was the one the knife had cut into.
A glance at his hand, as if it were some foreign thing now.]
It's impossible. It was a part of one of my memories, but-
[He cuts himself off. But he still didn't think this would happen.]
[Fynn stares at Ardyn curiously before glancing back down at his bloody hand. The wound is completely sealed now and without a single blemish. He peers back at his brother for a moment before reaching for the paper towels again. Wordlessly, Fynn cleans off his hands before suddenly reaching for Ardyn's to do the same.
He can't make sense of this, he can't make sense of any of this. Unlike everyone else jabbering away about their long lost memories as of late, Fynn doesn't have a single memory to recall. Well, that until he suddenly thought of that weird tattoo. Something about the way Ardyn's fingers glowed reminded him of something he seen once before. It seemed so familiar yet so strange at the same time, almost taboo. Fynn can't make sense of the flashback triggered but he knows something is wrong.]
Do you--[He trails off briefly as he tries to express his worry.] Do you think something bad going to happen?
[Ardyn allows Fynn to wipe at his hands, because the professor is still needing a moment to parse what just happened. At least the pain in his finger is slowly dissipating away, and he can begin to focus on what his little brother is asking him.]
Everyone in this city is at the whim of forces beyond their control.
[It’s said with a frown, with a seriousness that seems to be lacking Ardyn’s usual amount of flippancy.]
But whatever just happened here, nothing bad will happen to you. I won’t allow it.
[A promise that may be difficult to keep in the end. But Ardyn intends to see it through, to at least provide Fynn an outlet to vent if memories ever do make their way to him.]
Even if it means I’m the one who has to bear all the burdens of memories and strange talents.
I'm the one who should be protecting you, Ardyn. Not the other way around. I have a badge after all.
[He smiles somewhat as he turns towards the garbage. After tossing the soiled tissues away, he meanders over towards the sink to wash his hands. Fynn still has a meal to finish.]
You don't have to shoulder these burdens alone. You have me at least.
[His fingers flex as he watches his brother move away, discarding the tissues and washing his hands. Continuing preparation of the meal as if nothing had changed.
He isn't sure if he should laugh or scoff. Not at Fynn's sentiment, but rather at the ironic normalcy of the sight.]
You have enough to worry about. [With his job, with his financial situation. As if Ardyn will want to pile more on top of that.] The last thing I want is for you to stretch your attentions too thin, fretting about me.
[As if to accentuate this, he forces a positive spin on what just happened.]
Besides, we should count our blessings. I could have been granted with far worse abilities.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[That too is a joke on his part. However, there's some true to it. Fynn often brings his work home with him and he does have a pair of handcuffs sitting around.]
Of course. [Fynn can't help but roll his eyes at his brother.] You think I would cook using your pots and pans, and not invite you? For shame!
[A chuckle escapes him as he starts cutting up the veggies. He hopes Ardyn doesn't mind asparagus with garlic and a hint of olive oil. He likes to mince fresh garlic for this dish, none of that garlic powder nonsense. Despite loving junk food a bit much, Fynn tends to be very snobbish about what ingredients he uses for cooking.]
So, what have you've been up to? Raising hell for your poor students?
[He asks once he starts mincing away.]
no subject
That’s a given. If I’m not strict, then they’re simply not motivated to learn the material. We can’t have that.
[A hum of amusement.] Beyond that? The usual. Dealing with the oddities that plague this city, memories and the like. [And yet, sometimes it seems that’s all they talk about these days. He’d rather shrug it off for now, for even the smallest modicum of normalcy.
So, a little sarcastically:]
Finding five pairs of the same sunglasses of yours in the living room alone.
no subject
Geez, you're a real ball-buster but I bet the class is at least fun. [That's his round about way of showing he's proud that his brother is a professor at Recolle University.] Please tell me you haven't flunked the blond kid yet. What's his name again? Pompeii?
[He says that last bit with a grin. Fynn is well aware of Prompto's name.]
I have to admit, life in Recolle is getting mighty interesting. I'm not sure if I like it, Ardyn. [The cheer in his tone fades briefly only to appear once more once Ardyn mentions his love for aviators.] Hey! I keep losing them and then finding them a week later after someone moved them.
[ACCUSATIONS HAVE BEEN MADE!]
It's not my fault---Ow!
[Uh oh. Houston, we have a problem. There's blood on that knife now, Fynn's blood.]
no subject
[Pompeii, though. He’s going to have to share that with Prompto sometime soon.
Ardyn opens his mouth to make another snide remark about Fynn’s tendency to solve his problem of lost sunglasses by continually buying more, but he’s cut off by his brother’s exclamation of pain.
He frowns, straightening, and the glistening of scarlet on the knife is not a good sign. Out goes all the motivation to be snarky, and instead he frowns in concern, stepping forward.]
Are you all right?
no subject
I'll live.
[He quickly answers as he drops everything to reach for the paper towels. It's not often that Fynn makes a mistake in the kitchen. He's usually quite careful but he was mildly distracted earlier, no fault to Ardyn.]
I sure hope we got a first aid kit somewhere.
[Yeah, this might require more than just a bandaid.]
no subject
And so, Ardyn reaches out to grasp at Fynn’s wrist without really thinking. He wants to see if this requires stitches, because it’s bleeding an awful lot.]
Here, let me see it.
[The gash is wide, and scarlet threatens to bleed over to his own hand from the cut, and Ardyn cannot help but frown. Worry wells up, as it should with any concerned sibling.
(Somewhere, in his mind, he’s reminded of his memory — taking the hands of strangers, healing them of some terrible disease that he couldn’t remember the name of. Much like the way he was grasping at Fynn’s hand, examining the wound. How easy would it be to deal with this, if he could heal now, like in his memories?)
Something about these thoughts spark a warmness in his touch. A faint glow at his fingertips, and for a moment, it feels as natural as breathing. Fynn would feel the pain leave him, his skin beginning to heal—
Until the reality of the sight kicks in, and Ardyn retracts his hand in nothing short of surprise. He feels a sting on his own finger for no visible reason, but that’s not what worries him, because… What the hell just happened?
He just... glances at Fynn with confusion, and for a rare moment, words fail him.]
no subject
Careful! I don't want to get blood all on you.
[He warns once Ardyn grabs his wrist. Leave it to him to worry more about Ardyn's clothes than himself. Fynn really does have a slight cavalier attitude about his well-being. He always has.]
...Ardyn?
[There's a hint of surprise in his tone once he feels something warm engulf his injured hand. It's hard to describe it but Fynn could feel something warm soothing away the pain. He knows for a fact that Ardyn didn't have any medicine nearby, so what is this odd sensation about? Fynn stands there looking utterly clueless until the faint glow of Ardyn's fingers triggers a distant memory.
He seen something like this before somewhere in a memory he forgotten but it wasn't quite like this. Fynn remembers seeing a tattoo or something glowing with a similar light. It wasn't his but someone else's. Fynn doesn't quite understand what he's witnessing here but he knows for a fact it's not normal.]
You...you healed it?
[The disbelief in his tone is telling. Fynn is in shock.]
no subject
[Except it had happened, plain as day, right before him. A glance at Fynn's hand shows stained blood, but not flowing crimson. It's gone, and his own finger aches as if he was the one the knife had cut into.
A glance at his hand, as if it were some foreign thing now.]
It's impossible. It was a part of one of my memories, but-
[He cuts himself off. But he still didn't think this would happen.]
no subject
[Fynn stares at Ardyn curiously before glancing back down at his bloody hand. The wound is completely sealed now and without a single blemish. He peers back at his brother for a moment before reaching for the paper towels again. Wordlessly, Fynn cleans off his hands before suddenly reaching for Ardyn's to do the same.
He can't make sense of this, he can't make sense of any of this. Unlike everyone else jabbering away about their long lost memories as of late, Fynn doesn't have a single memory to recall. Well, that until he suddenly thought of that weird tattoo. Something about the way Ardyn's fingers glowed reminded him of something he seen once before. It seemed so familiar yet so strange at the same time, almost taboo. Fynn can't make sense of the flashback triggered but he knows something is wrong.]
Do you--[He trails off briefly as he tries to express his worry.] Do you think something bad going to happen?
Everyone in the city seems to be losing it.
no subject
Everyone in this city is at the whim of forces beyond their control.
[It’s said with a frown, with a seriousness that seems to be lacking Ardyn’s usual amount of flippancy.]
But whatever just happened here, nothing bad will happen to you. I won’t allow it.
[A promise that may be difficult to keep in the end. But Ardyn intends to see it through, to at least provide Fynn an outlet to vent if memories ever do make their way to him.]
Even if it means I’m the one who has to bear all the burdens of memories and strange talents.
no subject
I'm the one who should be protecting you, Ardyn. Not the other way around. I have a badge after all.
[He smiles somewhat as he turns towards the garbage. After tossing the soiled tissues away, he meanders over towards the sink to wash his hands. Fynn still has a meal to finish.]
You don't have to shoulder these burdens alone. You have me at least.
no subject
He isn't sure if he should laugh or scoff. Not at Fynn's sentiment, but rather at the ironic normalcy of the sight.]
You have enough to worry about. [With his job, with his financial situation. As if Ardyn will want to pile more on top of that.] The last thing I want is for you to stretch your attentions too thin, fretting about me.
[As if to accentuate this, he forces a positive spin on what just happened.]
Besides, we should count our blessings. I could have been granted with far worse abilities.