lifeaftr | The Saddening

Entry tags:

The Saddening

Who: Prompto, Chocobros, OTA
What: Event catchall for Prompto stuff
When: Over the duration of the event
Where: Mostly around the chocobro house
Warnings: Angst, pain, sad saps, sickness, potentially very poorly done confessions to girls. Dates may vary depending on what happens over the event.

August 6~7 - Running off - Chocobros
Prompto messily scrawled the words on a piece of wood using chalk from the noticeboard.

"Going to help unbury people. I'm fine."

The piece of wood was left at their house when no one was there and he snuck off. As soon as he started showing symptoms he knew he had to do something. He couldn't get Ignis or Gladio sick, but he didn't want them to worry about him. He couldn't live with himself if something happened to the guys because of him.

At first his intentions were true. He figured he might as well go help with the new people. That changed quickly as his symptons worsened. It felt like he was getting hit by a fever, and he decided to take a detour instead, looking for some small bit of cover that he could hide under and curl up. He'd really rather be snuggled up in a bed. His mind wandered off, thinking of all the cozy hotel rooms they used to stay in, all curled up in blankets. The best he had for now was his winter coat, which was at least warm if nothing else.

August 10~11 - Confessions - Chocobros
After being dragged back home and spending much of the time trying to become one with the few scrappy blankets they had, they had eventually learned that honesty was a cure. How did that even work? He half wondered if it was a bad joke. He didn't really think of himself as dishonest. He might put up a front or hide, but he was just trying to help his friends. He wasn't trying to be bad.

There was a lot he hid, of course, and he didn't even know where to begin. What would he have to say to make the sickness go away? Rather than sit up, he stayed curled up on the ground of their 'living room' of sorts, using one of the pillows they had from the tent as a headrest. He wasn't the big tough guy. He handled illness like a big baby - but at least a mostly quiet one. If he had a plush he would have happily been hugging it.

His eyes lazily followed the going-on's while he remained mostly silent, until he finally confessed quietly, "'m glad I'm home."

August 12~15 - Confessions - Girls
Sitting out by the water, Prompto half wondered if it would be easier to stay quiet and die rather than be open and honest to everyone. On the best of days he had trouble talking to girls, and they tended to travel in packs which was scary and intimidating. In his mind it was so easy - just tell the girls that he thought were pretty that he thought they were pretty. In practice he might have an easier time trying to digest a pile of dirt. Rejection was a lot more tolerable when he didn't take it seriously.

It didn't help that he found most girls his age attractive. It wasn't as if he even stuck that strictly to his own age - Iris had been 16, and Aranea had been 30. It wasn't his fault all girls were so damn pretty. It was unfair! The odds were stacked against him from the start.

He noticably tensed whenever a girl neared him, fearing confessing to them more than death itself. Moreso than usual. If he was rejected this time, it was really him they'd be rejecting. He couldn't dare to actually approach, so he sat by the water, choking back the symptoms of the illness while he skipped some rocks.

August 12~15 - Confessions - OTA
Prompto tended to keep negative feelings to himself. He didn't like to insult people, didn't like confrontation and didn't like to hurt anyone. Even when he was in pain he resisted. He wasn't the type to lash out.

Which made the whole honesty thing that much harder. He might end up burning a few bridges. Because of hurty limbs and overall aching, he stayed near the house with his back pressed up to a wall. He stayed mostly reserved, but he wouldn't ignore anyone who approached.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jules didn't usually hang around where everyone else lived. He was a loner by nature and had purposely chosen not to live on the islands. He visited from time to time however since most did live there, and there were a few people he looked after (mostly unbeknownst to them). Typically he would head straight back to his own home after unanimously dropping supplies off, but today he spotted Prompto on the way. Prompto's conflicted emotions hit him without Jules even reaching out.

He paused, glanced over, and then bee-lined Prompto's way.

"You alright, chizzi?"

Many times he ducked his head behind his knees and wished for the aches to go away, but it never seemed to work. His arms were wrapped around his legs, fingers digging in tensely when Jules approached. Instinctively he wanted to deny, deny, deny, but he knew it was pointless to begin with. He wasn't looking good no matter how he tried to hide it, and by now they discovered that honesty was important.

"Been better," he finally tried to joke in a strained voice before being quickly cut off by a cough. "You?"

Of course he remembered him, and really had nothing bad to think about him.

It would have been pointless to deny anything around Jules anyway. It was one of the downsides of being around someone who could read minds, especially someone who had that happen without actually trying to read them.

"The whole "been better" thing has always been amusing. I mean, come one, you could basically say that almost every moment of your life minus the absolute best one."

"Yeah, well. Still accurate."

He did his best to joke around despite feeling like absolute crud. Thus far he had no reason to dislike Jullien, though they'd only interacted once. A sore throat and aches all over made a jovial response futile. The best he could do was strained.

"...'m worried about this whole illness thing. I mean, everyone who had it before died."

"Ah. That's one area I don't have a hell of a lot of experience in."

Nor did he know much about this illness. He has been trying to keep his distance from the new island, and he'd never been one to spend a lot of time with other residents. Together it left him rather clueless about what was consuming everyone else's mind.

"General piece of advice I've discovered though, beating some injury or illness that's meant to kill you is just as much about being a stubborn bastard who won't let it win as it is about getting treatment."

"'m trying... I mean, I don't want to die. But sometimes... Sometimes death almost sounds easier than trying to tell people everything."

There was so much he kept to himself that he was terrified to share outside of his small group.

"What if it's not even a cure and that's some sort of cruel joke?"

"Might as well tell me anyway. Not that I don't hear it whether it comes out of your mouth or not. Honestly, should be easier knowing that."

When someone else already knew, talking about a hard topic suddenly became easier. Jules might as well use his abilities to benefit someone.

"Maybe it is a cruel joke. This place is damn good at that. You have any better idea of a cure though? If you're ready to just give up, I won't stop you. If you're not, you might as well try it. If you don't try it, you'll still end up just as dead as if it's a joke."

Prompto was instantly reminded of Aranea. It wasn't the first time someone had said they'd leave him behind if he was going to give up. He wasn't even sure what had kept him going then. He'd felt empty, going through the motions to survive for reasons he couldn't clearly define. Though, she'd been a bit more aggressive about it.

There was something a lot more confusing than that, though. He furrowed his brows at Jullien. "What do you mean by that? Iggy and Gladio wouldn't tell people about my stuff."

Instantly he wondered if they'd been overheard talking somewhere. It was possible, with everyone stuffed on these islands. Someone could have been nearby during a talk with them not knowing.

"You told me, though unknowingly and not in words. I can read minds. One of the amazingly irritating things my screwed up genetics decided to give me when a friend meddled around in my head in order to save my life."

Some of his Trisani abilities he was highly grateful for, but being able to read minds wasn't high up on his list. It wasn't something he would ever have full control over.

"The only part of if I control is how deeply I look, and trust me, I try not to. The surface stuff just flashes into my head whether I want it to or not. Pain in the ass really."

"Oh. Man. Dude."

This was the worst. Not only did he worry about his secrets, but he also worried that Jullien was reading his mind when he was thinking salacious things. The last thing he wanted was for someone to know about his dirty thoughts. Worrying about Jullien reading his mind while thinking of them just made him think of them more - the only thing preventing it from being worse was that he was in no mood for sex. Way too barfy for that.

His hand instinctively went over his already hidden bar code, biting his lip worriedly.

"What do you know...?"

"That you're worried about shit you shouldn't be right now. Like I said, I try to stay out of people's business. The only thing I've really gotten stuck on is that for whatever reason you're stupid enough to tolerate me. Can't quite figure that one out."

And he wasn't about to reveal the things he'd unintentionally heard unless they were important. That was a great way to piss someone off. The less Prompto knew, the better.

"You haven't really done anything to me."

Even if he read minds, it didn't sound like it was malicious or something. At the moment he wasn't really blaming Jullien for that, and probably wouldn't unless given a reason to. He was more worried than angry.

But could he really make a confession? He didn't say a word to his best friend for years. Besides Noct, Gladio and Iggy, he'd kept his secret extremely close to his heart.

Maybe he could be non-specific? But at the same time, he didn't want to scare Jullien off. On his world, what he was wouldn't be considered a good thing.

He lingered in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time before talking, not meeting Jullien's eyes, "So, you, uh... You know how you're not exactly human...? I... might not be, either."

Might being the key word there. He honestly wasn't sure himself.

"There are very few people in the entire Ichidian Universe that I've done something to them before they hated me. Nobody ever needs a reason. Don't really figure you do either."

He'd long since accepted that fact and started to believe it as face. There was really no point in changing now.

A frown crossed his face.

"You make that sound like not being human is a problem of some kind or another. Humans do tend to have a slight superiority complex toward other races, but they aren't alone in that. Most species think they're better than anyone else."

This might be hard to explain. His experience at home was a lot different than here.

"Back home we don't really have elves or, spider ladies... not Muffet's type, or, like, other races like that. It's just humans, and uh, animals, and... robots."

Not being human would put him in one of the other two categories, neither of which seemed very flattering. "I mean, there's the Astrals and stuff, but I know I'm not a god. It's... It's hard to explain. What I might be might be a... bad thing." He frowned. "I might've... I might've been made to hurt people."

A lot of 'might's in there tried to distance him from it. Jullien didn't exactly know his world, so he didn't have to tell him all of the details about it. He could at least explain in a vague way where he wouldn't have to admit everything.

"Not that I care what race you belong to other than human, but if it makes you feel any better, you're not a robot of any type. Definitely nothing electronic or computerized within you."

It was the second question that was more important to Jules. It was one that actually involved less thought than the first too.

"Does it matter if you were? What you are doing is what matters. If the whole purpose of your birth, or your training, or your life was supposed to be to harm others, then the fact that you aren't stands for even more in my mind that in would for any other person. Don't let someone dictate what you should and shouldn't be. That type of shit pisses me off."

"Yeah..."

Weak as it was, he understood what Jullien was saying. It just wasn't easy yet. He wasn't sure if it ever would be. Rubbing his arm for a moment, he bobbed his head slightly in thought before saying more, "Gladio and Iggy are the only ones who know about it. And Noct. But he's not here right now. I've never told anyone about what I am. ...I'm not even sure what I am."

He pursed his lips tightly, then glanced up. "Don't tell anyone, all right?"

He wasn't sure if that was anything he was ready to handle yet.

"What you are doesn't matter. It isn't going to change how you act or what you think of yourself. I'm not going to lie and say it might change what other people who don't know you think, but a lot of the world is assholes. You can let their judgments mean whatever you want, and piece of advice, you shouldn't let it mean shit."

He folded his arms behind his head and leaned back.

"It's not exactly like I'm bursting with friends here, chizzi. I talk to very few people as a rule, unless it's to give someone shit. Trust me, I won't share your secrets."

"Yeah, I'm still trying to get used to that idea. I didn't really know much until recently... Just knew I didn't belong when I was growing up." He frowned. Though he had plenty he could complain about with his childhood, it was the only one he knew and it hadn't been all bad. He'd found some happiness, and eventually made a friend.

"My friends know. And they haven't left." He took a deep breath. "Still. I don't exactly wanna advertise it or anything. I don't want to scare anyone."

Maybe it was different here but he was still used to home and how people felt there.

"You're not sick?"

"Not belonging doesn't necessarily have anything to do with your race or species."

Sure, he was of a mixed species, but so was his brother. Nyk would have been just fine until their grandmother had fucked everything up. Jules hadn't belonged from birth.

"You're not over 7 feet tall, over 300 pounds of muscle, with fangs, claws, and glowing red eyes. Trust me, you aren't going to scare anyone just because you're not technically human."

A quirked smile flashed across his face.

"Sick in the head according to most."

"Uh..." He paused for a second. He didn't have red glowy eyes, but what he was supposed to become did. "Yeah, none of that. ...Luckily. Unless I'm a nightlight and no one's told me."

Letting out a deep breath, he pushed against the wall to try and force himself up. It wasn't easy, but at the very least he was able to get there, even if he was pretty stiff.

"I haven't seen you do anything sick. Except, you know, if you mean sick, 'cause fire breath is kinda sick."

"Trust me. You'd know. People give you really odd looks."

He knew from experience. For him though, the red eyes actually made him more acceptable in his society.

"Yeah, well, I'm not know for the best decision making skills."

"Clearly you need to get yourself an Ignis. Leave all the decision-making stuff up to him."

Even though Ignis wasn't the king. But even if the king relied on him, that was cool, right?

"...Comes with some pretty awesome recipes, too."

"I spent enough of my life letting other people make decisions and run my life. I have no intention of letting that happen ever again."

It had gotten him into a lot of trouble, both by his own fault and not.

"That would be one of the few things I have more than enough of."

Jules openly admitted that he was a pretty good cook, and he rarely admitted to things he was good at.

"Guess you have to be careful who you trust. ...I got kinda lucky."

The first people he made friends with were good people. Who knew where he could have ended up if they weren't?

"Really, you cook? Do you use the fire breath stuff for that?"

"Or you just don't trust anybody. Works pretty well most of the time."

And it was a philosophy he generally lived by. Of course his life had made it a rather necessary one.

"Spent a lot of my youth in the kitchen, and the chef didn't completely hate me. Or at least she tolerated me. That was better than most. And no, I don't use it for that, though it's come in handy here to start a fire."

Confessions

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