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"Now, what have we here," Ignace chuckles to himself, eyeing the stranger before him. Its a bit nervous, a bit tinged with some level of anxiety given his last interactions with a certain Garlean who may share a visage with the man before him save the garish mask and strange outfit
"Do I know you?" That voice! Oh Fury, this oughta be good. Ignace prepares himself just in case he needs to draw his lance quickly, trying to quell his rising anxiety.
The outlandish man continues despite the obvious quirk of Ignace's eyebrow and tensing of his person, "...Ah! Unless I am very much mistaken, you are the famed adventurer who bested the Garlean Empire's general, are you not? The great Ignace Sable himself!
"Amazing—and more than a little serendipitous. One might even call it fate." His lip twitches around the word fate like he is trying not to laugh. "I but recently received word of a truly unique opportunity, you see—an opportunity the likes of which none but one of your proven worth could take advantage."
"An opportunity, you say?" He'll play along for now, if only just to figure out his scheme, and to mess with him, of course.
"Yes, an opportunity," The man smiles at him with just a glint of some hidden trickster's guile that rings so familiar if almost bowls him over. "The reward? Naught less than the accumulated knowledge of a fallen civilization. The risk? A single misstep could cost you your life. But what is a little danger to a storied hero such as you?"
"Ah, I see. T'would be a loss not to look into it. And from such an...interesting man, at that," Ignace leans close to him, breathing a little heavy just to get the point across.
The man shudders and means to lean away but stills himself to the temptation. Like a belligerent squirrel he puffs up, using the scant ilm he has on Ignace to appear more confident in his facade than he lets on.
"I-I am but a humble onlooker here to inform you of this glorious venture, I assure you. I mean you no ill will not do I require recompense. The historic discoveries will be payment enough.
"If my words have fanned the flames of your curiosity, then I bid you seek a man by the name of Rammbroes at Saint Coinach's Find. It is he who stands at the doorway to untold marvels, awaiting the arrival of a champion bold enough to march across the threshold."
When it seems the pitch is done, Ignace finally steps back to take the man and his strange garb in again. Truly, if he had been clothed more...tastefully, more in the fashion of the region, he might not have seemed so outrageously conspicuous. But to wear something so...incredibly outlandish...he would've had to be blind.
"Rammbroes at Saint Coinach's Find," Ignace repeats to himself under his breath genuinely considering it. He had been up that way before and he did remember hearing about someone by that name. At the very least, if this was who he thought it was, there were others who were likely to either reaffirm or dispell the drivel the outlandish man spewed. Only one way to find out.
Ignace turns away merely to stop dead a yalm or so away. "Wait." His lip quirks up into a smirk that he hopes is hidden by the dim light of the coming evening. He almost let the damned fool off easy.
"I was wondering," Ignace turns his head to look directly at the man's face, placid beneath its mask. "Do you...know of my good friend Cid Garlond? Seeing as you seem to know so much about me."
A full grimace, how predictable.
"I...may have heard of him somewhere," the man turns away to stare at seemingly empty space, not that it really helps disguise anything.
"Oh? Well that's good to hear, I was just wondering if you had...heard about the rumors?"
“What rumors," his voice turns icy yet his ears all but prick up. He clears his voice as if he finds his revealing cadence embarassing, "I mean, uh, if you'd like to share."
"Oh? I'm surprised you haven't heard, would that you seem to have a propensity for secrets." Ignace turns fully back to him now, cocking a hand on his hip and feigning guilt by rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I'm actually not sure if I should say..."
"Just bloody tell me!" The man takes a step to him, one fist balled in the front of his tunic. The surprising outburst catches Ignace off-guard, stumbling back a step before catching himself. Before he can even think about doing anything, the man has already released him, throwing the offending fabric out of his hand like he can't bear to touch it and turning away in an attempt to gather himself.
Ignace has to calm his racing heart before speaking again. He had expected this to be fun but not quite this much. A delightful opportunity indeed!
"Sorry to have upset you, Ne- my good sir, I just wanted to, well," Ignace smiles deviously to himself, "It's a bit...private you see. Come a little closer and I'll whisper it to you."
The man seems temporarily aghast at the suggestion but after a moment of huffing and shaking his head, hesitantly closes the distance. When he is within arm's length, Ignace grabs the front of his shirt in some facsimile of the man's angry display from just moments ago and pulls him flush to his own body. He wraps a hand around the blonde's shoulder for good measure.
"Now what I heard was…" Ignace lowers his voice an octave, breathing hot into the shell of the other man's ear, making sure his horns were only lightly grazing his skin, "Folks have seen Cid involved with some men around the area. Said that he's...looking for someone and he intends to find him while laying on his back if you catch my meaning."
Ignace releases him just as soon as it seems the other is about to explode into a giant ball of frayed nerves and pushed buttons.
"Wh-what?!"
"Ah well, it's a bit of a nasty rumor isn't it? I hate that people are saying such meaningless nonsense about him. Especially since I, well, since I may have become a bit fond of him myself," he blushes and turns away. The bit about his feelings wasn't exactly false but it may have been a bit mean to tease about something this sensitive...on second thought, Ignace had gone through a lot at the hands of this man. Maybe it wasn't so bad to get his fun this way.
"W-why would you tell me this! I don't...I don't need to know any of that!" He gesticulates wildly, obviously fed up with the whole conversation.
"Well you told me your rumor so I thought I'd tell you mine? You know, tit for tat?" Ignace dons his most innocent smile: his lying face all throughout childhood when the clergy members would come check to see what new form of heresy they could find him guilty of. A handful of missing scales and blocked out trauma could attest to his success, or lack thereof, on that front.
"You...you mean to confound me? To yank me around? After I give you such valuable information? I will not be trifled with! I am a very important person and I shall not stand for this! Even from the Warrior of Light himself!"
Ignace chuckles, instantly invading the other man's personal space again, "You are a very important person, Nero. I'm not trying to confound you. I'm just trying to figure out whether or not I can trust you. And whether or not Cid can trust you because I like him, you see. And I'd like that he remain in one piece."
Ignace reaches up to take that abhorrent mask off and holds the man's face with his other hand. He looks into the third eye on his forehead as if it could give him answers, a matching feature to that he had seen on his friend but once.
"Now I'm only asking this once. Can I trust you? Can we trust you?"
If looks could kill.
"..."
"Well?"
"Get your hand off me, you degenerate freak!" Nero spirals away, in lieu of an answer, wresting the mask from his hand as quick as it had been stolen from him. "Don't-don't touch me again!" He scurries away like he can't stand to be here any longer, a faint scarlet hue evident on his cheeks. Ignace tries to look at Nero’s ass only a normal amount as he watches him walk away.
"Mhm, that's what I thought. See you soon, sweetheart,” Ignace mutters under his breath, sighing and grabbing his lance.
...
Hope Cid won't be too mad at him for this.