deathsmajesty | (Reply)

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If he'd known it at some point, it had long been lost in his memories, especially since it had likely only been in passing. But Ignis would have ignored all prior knowledge and let it reconstruct itself entirely by Liliana's description and the passing of his fingers lightly over the strokes of paint. And as he did, he realized that, yes, he may have seen it, once or tice, but he could be wrong, and it didn't matter, anyway, because the picture that was in his head now was all that mattered, even if it didn't exactly match what Liliana was seeing. It would stray mostly in detail when his mind was distracted slightly with the way the elaborate patterns in the pant were forming to create a dizzyingly complex depiction of two figures in a passionate embrace. Had Prompto asked that the artist be heavy-handed in their application of the paint, so that he could feel it? Or was it merely incidental, a reflection of the artist's own style? Prompto did sometimes forget about Ignis' affliction, but that was only when he wasn't paying attention. But when he was focused and aware...Prompto had easily been the most attentive to it and the complications that came along with his new sightlessness back when it happened...

He let out a soft huff of air, feeling that sometime all-too-familiar sting of tears in those sightless eyes. Not just for those considerations, but also for just the way Liliana had started it all with that breathy, awed it's us, and that she'd repeated it, letting it linger and echo through the entirety of her description.

It's us.

On the surface, a deft deference to her open narcissism, perhaps, but there were layers of paint on that canvas thicker than that surface level, to be sure.

As he considered the painting, he did so with just one hand, the other refusing to leave Liliana's, and then he gave that hand a fierce squeeze. "Well, I daresay," he said, and there was a little clearing of his throat, because saying anything just then apparently required a little bit of effort just getting the words out, "he's rather outdone himself, hasn't he?"

Everyone, please be proud of the fact that he did not voice any concerns about how it must have cost him a fortune and boggling over how in the world he would have been able to afford such a thing, but he was easing that particular worry with a reminder that, surely, Prompto had just been exceptionally resourceful with some of the connections he'd made in the artistic world through his freelance photography work...