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Age: 2000+
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Occupation: Head of Intelligence
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Quote: "a man of no consequence"
Race: human (immortal)
Fandom: final fantasy
Adjective: immortal accursed
Preferred Pronouns: she/her
Height & Weight: 6'3" | 175 lbs
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Alias: Odoroshi
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Ardyn Izunia


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Sep 15 2017, 06:17 PM
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<div id="sfields2-container"><div class="sfields2-title"><span>O</span>FFICIAL NOTICE</div><div class="sfields2-text"><center>

Citizens of Kadath,<p>

We regret to inform you all that a large-scale disturbance has occurred within the city. A former government employee, Miss Carla Radames of Research and Development, has triggered the outbreak of a contagion that has spread rapidly among the populous of Upper Kadath. <p>

The specifics of the virus are, at present, largely unknown; however, we do know that those infected have lost most cognitive and motor functions aside from a startling bloodlust, putting them in an almost “zombified” state. The infected have been deemed a danger to themselves and others, and as such, we the members of Kadath’s government have decided unanimously on the implementation of a <b>quarantine</b> in order to prevent further spread of the virus--effective immediately.<p>

The quarantine encompasses what seems to be the epicenter of the outbreak: an uninhabited mansion that quite recently appeared within Upper Kadath, as well as the surrounding area. We ask that any and all citizens that are not properly equipped for virus prevention and necessary self-defense steer well clear of it. We likewise ask that any residents of the quarantined area please relocate to a safe location until the virus is eliminated completely.<p>

Most importantly, we ask that you please do not panic. We are working swiftly to ensure that the city does not suffer any permanent damage and to minimize casualties. Thank you for your patience and resolve.<p>

<hr><b>HOW YOU CAN HELP:</b><br>
Any capable citizens, mercenaries, and combat-ready government employees are encouraged to aid us in putting a swift end to this outbreak. Please follow the instructions below to see how you can help. There will, of course, be financial compensation for any who willingly come forward to assist. <p>

<b>COMBAT:</b> Given the violent nature of those afflicted with the virus, individuals with combative strength are necessary to put an end to any victims who have lost themselves to the virus. There are creatures ranging from humanoid size to gargantuan monsters; slaying them is an unfortunate necessity. <p>

<b>SUPPORT:</b> There will inevitably be some within the quarantine that are afflicted by the virus but not quite lost to it yet. Medical professionals are needed to assure that the virus in them is eliminated before it can spread, or that the afflicted person is allowed to pass peacefully before they succumb to the monstrous effects. However, be sure to ensure your own safety first and foremost. It's recommended that any medical professionals working within the quarantine be accompanied by a combat-ready companion at all times.<p>

<b>RECONNAISSANCE:</b> Miss Carla Radames, the origin of the disease, is thought to be hiding within the labyrinthine structure of the mansion at the center of the quarantine. We are currently looking for individuals willing to navigate the mansion, track her down, and take her into custody.<p><hr>

We, the governing body of Kadath, thank you for your patience and cooperation while this issue is taken care of.<p>

<div align="right"><b>-Ardyn Izunia, Head of Intelligence</b></div>

Jun 29 2017, 12:37 PM
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<a href=''>cirice</a> with prompto argentum<br>
<i>in which ardyn poses as a mutual friend</i><p>

<a href=''>dagon</a> with yorha no. 9 type s<br>
<i>in which ardyn is nice to a co-worker</i><p>


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<div class="letter1">A</div>rdyn has long since come to accept and operate under the assumption that there is very little left of his home world. It’s a tough pill to swallow, perhaps—given all that he’s put into twisting and molding and <i>breaking</i> it into something more suitable to his tastes, even if he had died in order to see it all through—but it’s something he can take on the chin and keep moving. He’s had more than enough time to feel sorry for himself, to let himself stew in the bitterness and rage festering ever on and on in the pit of his stomach; he must continue onward, onward to a new dawn, a new apocalypse. <p>

There are few, if any, remnants of Eos here in Kadath, save for the occasional Daemon or case of Starscourage afflictions. That’s fine, he supposes—it’s not as if the gods of Eos ever smiled upon him in the first place. He’s abandoned his sentimentality to that world and its well-being. This is simply a change of scenery; the seething dark in him remains ever the same.<p>

He thumbs idly through the paperwork on his desk—a comprehensive list of all students attending Miskatonic University for the purpose of…some investigation he has little interest in—scanning over the names. There is one in particular that suddenly sharpens his interest, though—one that makes his hand freeze in place and hover over it in a brief moment of genuine <i>surprise</i> that plays clearly across his features.<p>

His lips curl in a smile stretched taut against teeth bared like knives. A laugh escapes him suddenly—staccato, tinged at the edges with bits of the sadism in him that he’d been hiding so carefully.<p>


There is <i>one</i> remnant of Eos here on Kadath.<p>

<i>And this one…this one he can most certainly work with.</i><p>

It takes him a matter of moments to wring out every last bit of information on this particular memento from home; the information networks of the Intelligence Department run ever-deep, and exploiting that much is something Ardyn will never tire of. He devours it all, makes a snap decision to rise from his desk and march briskly from the Intelligence building, slipping a quick excuse to his coworkers as to why he’ll be absent the rest of the day.<p>

He doesn’t quite need to sit and stew over a plan as to how he’ll go about…<i>acquiring</i> this memento of home, after all. He knows exactly what to do before he even begins making his way toward Miskatonic University.<p>

His smile soon stretches across a face not his own—a face that, too, hits him with a shot of nostalgia. Wine-colored hair dyes itself a deep ebony, aged features smooth out back to that of young adulthood, many layers of extravagant clothing shift and replace themselves with something simpler, something more youthful. A passing glance in a storefront window confirms the impersonation is as perfect as he remembers it being—so perfect that he almost has to stop and double-check that who he sees is, in fact, himself.<p>

A laugh spills from him in a voice not his own. <i>This will work quite nicely.</i><p>

Now, on to the matter at hand.<p>

He’s allowed into Miskatonic with little question, given the appearance he’s assumed, and takes to walking briskly through the halls. He’s got a general idea of how the school is laid out, and a general idea of where his quarry should be at this time of the day according to his class schedule. All that’s left is the matter of finding—<p>


That mop of blonde hair is terribly hard to miss—carefully spiked, peeking suddenly out above the crowd of students shuffling off to class. Baby blues and a mess of freckles splashed across nose and cheeks show themselves from between passing, irrelevant faces.<p>

Now is when the curtain rises on a new tragedy—the touching sequel to the time they spent together in their home world.<p>

<B>“Prompto!”</b> Ardyn calls the boy’s name in a voice not his own, shoving his way through the crowd and stretching a hand in his direction. <B>“Prompto—gods, Prompto! Is that you?”</b> He’d like to think his faux-desperation and faux-relief is believable enough as to not arouse any suspicion. Like a well-designed puppet, Ardyn’s false face contorts in emotion that seems real, for all intents and purposes. <b>“S-seriously, tell me it’s you!”</b>

<b>NOTES:</b> it begins.............the Descent<br>
tag: Prompto Argentum<br>
<B>bgm: circie-ghost


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<li>human (immortal)</li>

<ul><li style="width: 250px;">Neutral Evil</li></ul>

<ul><li style="width: 250px;">Head of Intelligence</li></ul>

<ul><li style="width: 250px;">Final Fantasy </li>

</ul><ul><li style="width: 250px;">CANON POINT: post-endgame</li></ul>

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<i>This is the story of a boy with the stars in his eyes and the world in his palms.</i><p>

The curtain rises on a sunlit castle town, its golden light pooling sleepily about the cobblestones. It is early springtime; fresh blossoms flutter in the wind that whistles between tightly-knit buildings. A hush has fallen, quieting the usual ambiance to naught but a gentle murmur, soon to be carried off by the wind. There’s a tension here—a sort of breathless quiver that offsets the sleepy springtime aura. Few people walk the streets, and those that do seem to hurry about their business with a sense of urgency. The very air itself seems to be holding its breath, waiting for…<i>something</i>.<p>

The scene begins in a doctor’s clinic, tucked away in the bowels of that sleepy castle town. A chocobo, black as night, stands a quiet vigil by the door. Those who do not scurry about outside are huddled in here, eager eyes fixed unblinkingly forward, watching with anticipation, with awe.<p>

In the center, a young man kneels. Beneath him is a gaunt woman laid out on her back; she has only the strength to look up with half-lidded eyes, to extend one shaky hand in the man’s direction. She tries to speak, her voice but a breathy whisper, though the man holds a gentle finger to her lips, smiles knowingly and shakes his head. Wordlessly, he takes hold of the hand he’s been given, pushes up the sleeve of the gown she wears and sets eyes on the blight that ails her. <p>

Patches of her flesh have gone dark; blood and ichor stain the man’s fingertips as he brushes them along the afflicted areas. His expression twists at the edges with a sympathy almost unbefitting of him.<p>

Ceremoniously, he presses his forehead against the woman’s trembling knuckles and lets his eyes fall shut. The blight on her arm moves, squirms beneath her skin as if in response. He breathes out quiet words—hushed, speaking as if not to anyone in the room, but something else entirely. His body stiffens, jerks in time with the blight’s subtle movement.<p>

A moment passes. Two moments pass. He continues to kneel without moving, as if rendered a statue.<p>

He takes in a sudden breath, and as air flows into his lungs, the darkened flesh on the woman’s arm begins to fade. Her closed eyes open to their fullest extent this time; she lets out an audible gasp as they fill with sudden tears. He, too, then opens his own eyes, and everyone in the room lets out a breath they had not realized they had been holding. Trembling—not with weakness this time, but with relief—the woman sits up and throws her arms around the man’s shoulders, crying her thanks into his clothing.<p>

<i>It’s a tired old scene—played time and time and time again—and Ardyn Lucis Caelum is happy to perform it as he’s been told to. He is happy, happy to be heralded as a healer of the people, as a blessed king who so selflessly takes the Starscourage’s blight into his own body, shoulders its burden in place of his people. It is his duty, nay, his <b>destiny</b> to take up this mantle.<p>

The people and gods call out in unison:<p>






<i>This is the story of a tainted man shunned by the gods.</i><p>

Night falls as the curtain rises on a new act. The ring—the ring that had marked him as chosen king of Lucis, as a child of the light—<i>burns</i> as the tainted man tries to don it as he had so many times before.<p>

Something is <i>wrong</i>.<p>

He says it to the mirror, to the stranger’s face that stares back at him. What he sees is not himself, no—what he sees is a <i>demon</i>, with ichor dark as midnight streaming from eyes and mouth, with sinister eyes that glow a sickly yellow against the gloom.<p>

It is an evil thing he sees, not a king or saint or <i>savior</i>.<p>

That isn’t <i>right</i> he pleads to the creature in the mirror. That isn’t <i>him</i>. The creature stares back at him without speaking. It trembles in time with him. He says it again, again, again—enough times to, perhaps, try and convince himself that it is true: this isn’t <i>right</i>.<p>

Even as the castle guards—the ones whom he’d grown up with, whom had called him king—bring him on his knees before the rest of his family, before the rest of the royal court, he says it again. Again. Again. He begs, pleads, insists that he wants only to cure this world of the blight, wants to shoulder that burden in place of his people. It is his duty as king, he cries out—desperate, so desperate—but he is looked upon with horror, with disgust.<p>

Like Icarus, he falls. So close to the sun, he had thought himself king, thought himself messiah, only for his body to plummet without grace back to the ground. Everything he had been, all the good that he had thought himself to be doing, lies strewn about him—melted wax and feathers that amounts for naught but his own broken body cast down from the heavens. He is no angel—no more angel than the bloodthirsty creatures that plague the shadows as the sun sets. The realization comes only as the ground rushes up at him.<p>

Like Daedalus, he watches everything he had worked so tirelessly for fall—fall from the heavens and back to Earth. He watches it die, right there at his feet.<p>

He does not, however, have time to mourn its loss—not initially, anyway. The
punishment for his hubris is called out to him, ringing clear above his pleading: death. A fitting fate, says the jealous king, for a monster of a man.<p>

The tainted man turns his face toward the heavens only to see that the backs of the gods he had served with his life have been turned on him.<p>

<i>All tragedies begin with hope. It sets the stage, prepares the audience for the coming catharsis.<p> one cries for the villain of his own story. What is tragic is how the light within him was to become twisted, to fester within his body and turn into something that makes even the gods themselves tremble.</i><p>


<i>This is the story of a demon who hated the world so much, he wanted nothing but for it to suffer as he had.</i><p>
From death, he wakes.<p>

Intermission passes: two thousand years of living in the darkness, of holding a festering spite so close to his chest that it consumes him from the inside out. Ardyn Lucis Caelum has died, leaving a shell of a man in his place to live on without rest. Ardyn Izunia—the demon, the tainted man with no light left in his heart—takes his place.<p>

With puppeteer’s hands, he goes about setting up the stage to his liking. No longer is he a marionette in this mad, mad play; he’s shed that mantle as he had his birth name.<p>

He will shape the climax with his own hands; he will guide the puppets along the stage as he had been all those years ago. That is the fate ordained to those of Lucis, he’s realized: to be played by the forces of Hell and dance for the heavens. The boy Noctis and all those who live by the light of the very crystal that no longer shines for him must take the stage for the next act as Adryn had.<p>

And as the curtain falls upon darkness, he will cut their strings and watch them fall in unison.<p>

(Just as he had.)

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Supernatural powers aside, Ardyn is a master manipulator. He is able to easily lie his way in and out of near any situation, wrapping people effortlessly around his finger and subsequently discarding them when convenient. He knows exactly what to do and say to advance his own agenda while still maintaining as low or high a profile as he so desires.<p>


<b>Lucian Blood:</b> Ardyn's Lucian blood allows for him to access all powers possessed by Lucian royalty. This includes:<br>

<li><i>Warping:</i> Ardyn is able to warp at high speeds to a targeted area. This action leaves behind a reddish silhouette for a brief moment. This likewise allows for him to, should he time it correctly, phase through some forms of physical attack.<p>

<li><i>Weapon Summoning:</i> Ardyn does not have to carry his arsenal of weapons, and instead can summon and dismiss them at will.<p>

<li><i>Enhancement:</i> Ardyn can imbue normal items with a bit of his magic, turning them into healing items that can be used on himself or allies. For example, he can take an energy drink and turn it into a potion that heals minor wounds.<p>

<li><i>Elemancy:</i> By extracting elemental essence from certain objects (i.e. draining electricity from exposed wires, draining fire from an open flame, or ice from something frozen), Ardyn can craft potent spells that are consumable like items. They usually take the form of a sphere that can be thrown like a bomb, which then detonates and releases the elemental energy stored inside. The relative power of these spells varies: stronger spells require a high amount of elemental energy, while weaker spells require little.<p>

<li><i>The Armiger:</i> Ardyn can briefly enter an empowered state, allowing for him to telepathically manipulate spiritual versions of his entire arsenal of weapons at once and float above the ground. These do just as much damage as they would if he wielded them normally. It is charged by combat, meaning that he has access to it only rarely.<p>

<b>Immortal:</b> Ardyn, in a sense, is incapable of dying by normal means. He no longer ages, and is shown to be able to survive attacks that would easily kill a normal human being. Only under very specific circumstances can he be killed--specifically, only by the Chosen King once he has ascended and claimed the power of the Crystal (endgame Noctis).<p>

<b>Starscourage:</b> Due to the sheer amount of the blight he absorbed into his body many years ago, Ardyn can freely transfer microscopic organisms known as the "Starscourage" to whomever he so chooses. The Starscourage is akin to a disease; it begins as a blight on one's body that quickly spreads, consuming its victim from the inside out and turning them into a mindless, nocturnal monster known as a "daemon". However, due to the fact that Ardyn is away from his home, where these microscopic organisms are naturally occurring, this ability has weakened considerably. It can be removed from one's body as any parasite can be, and cannot grow in the daylight.<p>

<b>Daemonic Energy:</b> Also due to the Starscourage's influence on his body, Ardyn is able to manipulate dark energy to a certain extent. He can do things such as create a blast of such energy in a medium-sized radius around his body, or send out concentrated orbs of it that can strike directly at a single person.<p>

<b>Time Manipulation:</b> Ardyn is shown to be able to freeze time for a few minutes. He and anyone he chooses are able to move about freely in the stopped time. Once used once, this ability goes on a lengthy cooldown--meaning he can use it only once per thread.<p>

<b>Disguise:</b> Ardyn can create detailed illusions to disguise himself or others as other people. All aspects of the affected person's appearance--including height, weight, and voice among others--shift to perfectly match who he is imitating. However, this does not mean that anyone affected by this ability can perfectly imitate whoever their appearance is modeled after; the act is easily seen through if one cannot accurately pretend to be whoever they appear to be. This ability likewise only applies to human or humanoid creatures; Ardyn cannot turn into something like a giant monster (no matter how many other Final Fantasy villains before him could)<p>

<b>Royal Arms:</b> Ardyn's physical arsenal of weapons contains red-colored, personalized copies of the Royal Arms wielded by Lucian kings of old. They are as follows:<br>
<li>Sword of the Wise
<li>Axe of the Conqueror
<li>Sword of the Wanderer
<li>Blade of the Mystic
<li>Star of the Rogue
<li>Sword of the Tall
<li>Mace of the Fierce
<li>Bow of the Clever
<li>Scepter of the Pious
<li>Shield of the Just
<li>Katana of the Warrior
<li>Trident of the Oracle
<li>Sword of the Father


-Many of Ardyn's abilities consume magic energy or "MP". While he does have a somewhat large amount of MP at his disposal, it can, in fact, run out if he uses his abilities too frivolously, rendering him unable to use any of them for a short amount of time.<p>

-Ardyn still does feel pain, despite what he may claim, and can be "fatally wounded". Something like a stab to the heart will incapacitate him for a time before he gets back up again, and something like an explosion that destroys him entirely will erase him for a while before he reappears. He can be killed permanently by only the "Chosen King"--Noctis Lucis Caelum (and, even then, under very specific circumstances).<p>

-Ardyn generally chooses not to use the full extent of his ability on principle. He keeps his supernatural ability hidden unless there arises a strong need to access them. Only one person has ever seen the fullest extent of his ability.




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