[Ignis reflects on that, even as he does a check up of the kitchen. And, indeed, it may be true that he has a predisposition towards a kitchen out of anywhere else in the house.]
[At the same time, however, Ignis can already tell that it is going to be a vital room for all of them if their stay stretches out into the months - or perhaps even simply weeks. The hearth of this place will be their heart, through which so much flows. They'll need its heat for so many dishes he'll make to make sure they're not lacking, warmth so that they can survive rapidly cooling nights, the fire which will clean their water sources... Because, without the modern plumbing they are so used to, there is not guarantee of clean water. He knows this well.]
[Will they be able to rely on Noctis's ability to make potions out of anything? Will that clear contaminated water? He's not wholly sure... and, because he lacks certainty for the time being, he relies on his own knowledge.]
[They'll need to make sure the water is clean. And that means boiling it. The hearth again.]
[All of that is simply what rises to his head first. He's sure that, given a few more minutes, and he could think of even more reasons that this room especially, out of all of them, needs to be inspected to make sure that any issues are sniffed out immediately in order to be dealt with.]
[...And perhaps it's easier this way. Easier to focus on thinking about who might know carpentry, on how to block a cold draft, various matter, than the strange floating disconnect of his home being destroyed.]
[He wants to ask how it happened.]
[He wants to ask how much is still left.]
[He wants to ask about refugees, survivors, who they know has survived.]
[He wants to feel out the shape of a monster so much more massive and harmful than any creature he's been trained to fight, as though describing it, hearing of it, might give him something to grasp onto rather than this hopeless feeling set adrift within his ribcage.]
[And yet it was only but a few minutes ago that Noctis was falling apart in his arms, encompassed by rage and despair and helplessness. How could he make him burden those sorts of questions with that so fresh and painful?]
[It wouldn't even do any good. Ignis knows that. Just picking at scabbed over wounds, really.]
[So he ignores the gaping hole that's been left behind as a result of the world being torn out from underneath his feet, walks around it just like he walks around the kitchen, until Noctis returns from his own inspection of the place, and Ignis now has a new matter to focus on.]
Two bedrooms... That will be more than enough. [Don't want to end up like the bakery's own couple, although their old simulated villa was lovely enough, he supposes.] You needn't worry about Gladio and I, however, really.
[It's just an automatic response, really. Of course it wouldn't be a problem for them. The two of them are dating. Even before Amani, they'd comfortably shared beds together.]
[...Which is when it hits him, as he looks over to Noctis and takes in the slight length to his shaggy hair.]
...Noct, if you had to guess, how many years is the discrepancy between us?
no subject
[Ignis reflects on that, even as he does a check up of the kitchen. And, indeed, it may be true that he has a predisposition towards a kitchen out of anywhere else in the house.]
[At the same time, however, Ignis can already tell that it is going to be a vital room for all of them if their stay stretches out into the months - or perhaps even simply weeks. The hearth of this place will be their heart, through which so much flows. They'll need its heat for so many dishes he'll make to make sure they're not lacking, warmth so that they can survive rapidly cooling nights, the fire which will clean their water sources... Because, without the modern plumbing they are so used to, there is not guarantee of clean water. He knows this well.]
[Will they be able to rely on Noctis's ability to make potions out of anything? Will that clear contaminated water? He's not wholly sure... and, because he lacks certainty for the time being, he relies on his own knowledge.]
[They'll need to make sure the water is clean. And that means boiling it. The hearth again.]
[All of that is simply what rises to his head first. He's sure that, given a few more minutes, and he could think of even more reasons that this room especially, out of all of them, needs to be inspected to make sure that any issues are sniffed out immediately in order to be dealt with.]
[...And perhaps it's easier this way. Easier to focus on thinking about who might know carpentry, on how to block a cold draft, various matter, than the strange floating disconnect of his home being destroyed.]
[He wants to ask how it happened.]
[He wants to ask how much is still left.]
[He wants to ask about refugees, survivors, who they know has survived.]
[He wants to feel out the shape of a monster so much more massive and harmful than any creature he's been trained to fight, as though describing it, hearing of it, might give him something to grasp onto rather than this hopeless feeling set adrift within his ribcage.]
[And yet it was only but a few minutes ago that Noctis was falling apart in his arms, encompassed by rage and despair and helplessness. How could he make him burden those sorts of questions with that so fresh and painful?]
[It wouldn't even do any good. Ignis knows that. Just picking at scabbed over wounds, really.]
[So he ignores the gaping hole that's been left behind as a result of the world being torn out from underneath his feet, walks around it just like he walks around the kitchen, until Noctis returns from his own inspection of the place, and Ignis now has a new matter to focus on.]
Two bedrooms... That will be more than enough. [Don't want to end up like the bakery's own couple, although their old simulated villa was lovely enough, he supposes.] You needn't worry about Gladio and I, however, really.
[It's just an automatic response, really. Of course it wouldn't be a problem for them. The two of them are dating. Even before Amani, they'd comfortably shared beds together.]
[...Which is when it hits him, as he looks over to Noctis and takes in the slight length to his shaggy hair.]
...Noct, if you had to guess, how many years is the discrepancy between us?