Takes one look at his phone, sets it down to uncork a bottle of vodka, and pours an unmeasured amount directly into his Ebony.

{\__/} ( • . •) / > 🍰 Would you like some, Your Highness? {\__/} ( • . •) 🍰 <\ Then eat your goddamn vegetables.

... ❕

In light of some recent rumors surfacing, I would like to clarify a few things myself. First, they are, in fact, entirely true. Second, my actions were justified. And third, and most importantly, I can and will do it again if needed.

This is his third can of Ebony today, but with the way things are going, he’s in need of it.

He swears he’s not imagining things, that he’s been hearing the low drone of a magitek engine for some time now, far too close to the haven for his liking. Finally, he rises, nudging the one closest to him — which so happens to be Noctis Lucis Caelum.

“... Oh Gods. I’m 24 now, aren’t I?”

Heavens, he feels as if someone’s tightening a band around his head. But when has a simple head cold stopped him?

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