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lifeaftr2018-08-05 09:21 am
want_to_belong) wrote in lifeaftr2018-08-05 09:21 am
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.
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.
no subject
He shakes his head wishing he could accept Prompto's words of forgiveness as easily as they are given, "You are all too kind to me. I don't deserve it. Not with all the mistakes I've made recently."
There's a whole list of them too. At least, there is in his head. Deep down, Ignis knows he's being too hard on himself, but the mental list is still there mocking him every time he tries to convince himself that mistakes happen and he just needs to keep going and learn from them like he used to.
"You've always been at my side supporting me. Ever since we arrived here. No matter what I've done wrong. I'll never be able to thank you enough for that, Prompto."
no subject
He couldn't just dismiss all of Ignis' feelings. It wasn't how he felt about Iggy. He wouldn't be so critical of a friend. Instead, he tried to lighten things a little bit, despite how dark they seemed to be.
"Woulda starved without you." He let out a weak laugh, barely getting more than a light snort out. Him and Iggy. It'd been them for a long time now. It was almost cruel, leaving the one here who had the most disabilities, but Prompto had a hard time imagining living on the island without him. What a horrifying thought.
"I think... You're harder on yourself than we are. All I want is for you to be okay. I know you... Well, you've been making some weird choices, but you'd never try to hurt us. I just don't want them to hurt you."
Who ever thought Prompto could be in a position to question Iggy's choices. But he did so softly, not wanting to hurt feelings, not wanting to be critical.
no subject
"Something...got messed up along the way." A strange sort of awareness colors his words, as if he is both very aware he is talking about himself, but also very distant from it, appraising things from a detach and clinical view, "From when I was very young it was always impressed upon me that Noctis was more important than me. I never minded it; in fact, I relished the knowledge that my skill was going to protect someone so important. He was first; I was second and that is just how the world worked."
"After some time, Gladio became a permanent part of the equation. He was Noctis' Shield. He kept Noctis alive. We were a pair meant to balance each other and there was no way for him to do either of those things if he wasn't taken care of, and Astrals know he wasn't very good at doing that himself," Ignis smiles sadly for a moment before continuing. "So it became Noctis, Gladio, me."
"You joined us then, much later, and gave him everything we wanted him to have and couldn't give him. You made Noct laugh, gave him back his smile. You helped him find joy in living again despite the burdens upon his shoulders," Ignis shakes his head, tears starting to gather at the corners of his eyes. "Noctis. Gladio. Prompto. Me."
Ignis falls silent then, though the silence is heavy with the knowledge he could continue adding people to the list--each one more important than himself for some reason. And the list? It's a pretty long one.
When he finally speaks again, the tears that rest unshed at the corners of his eyes are obvious in his voice, "There's not much use for a caretaker who can't do that, is there? And my track record isn't very good right now."
no subject
After Ignis finished, he paused and actually seemed to consider his words before responding quietly.
"You... do take care of us. But, I never really thought of you as a caretaker. I always kinda thought of you as a friend."
Carefully, he laid down next to Ignis. He knew Ignis was in bad shape and his own joints were still stiff, so he went slow and cautious. But once he was there he rest an arm across Ignis' chest and gently pressed against his side.
no subject
"It's good to hear that. I'm afraid, even now, I have a hard time remembering I'm more than my duties. Duty was all I had--all I allowed myself to have--for so long."
no subject
Not that Ignis had ever shown a lot of interest in the latter.
"Sometimes it was hard to think you were just a regular guy. You were always a step above everyone else."
no subject
"Lets not get too carried away. I don't know if I was ever a 'regular' guy." All right, forget it, he does let out a little huff then, as close to a chuckle as he can get safely, "There was too much expected of me, too much I needed to do, but that didn't mean I was above anyone. I was just different. I...missed out on a lot of 'regular' guy stuff. The kind of stuff I was glad to see you and Noct doing even if it meant he wasn't spending as much time on his duties and studies as he perhaps should have been."
no subject
"I-Iggy...?" he started hesitantly, knowing it was an upsetting thought. "Do you think King Regis... knew?"
About Noct's fate. About everything. It would explain why he and Noct went to the arcades while Ignis studied.
no subject
"Yes, he knew."
Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII. The Father. His moniker among the Lucii. This Ignis learned when he put on the ring and faced the Kings of Old in Altissia. The title is the only one that could ever be given to the man who fathered the Chosen King of Light and had to bear the pain of knowing that his beloved son would never rule the kingdom he sacrificed so much to protect.
The kingdom he sacrificed being a proper father to protect.
no subject
"When did you figure it out?"
Noct's death was one thing, but putting together what Regis knew and Ignis' role was entirely different. It hurt him to think that all that time Iggy was studying to be... king, essentially. "...Are you okay?"
no subject
"Am I okay?" He laughs then, though the sound comes out harsh and choked, perhaps more of a cough than a laugh in the end, "Do you think anyone who just realized they were meant to rule their brother's kingdom could ever be okay? Lucis is Noct's not mine. I don't want it!"
no subject
Instead of a response, he squeezed Ignis at first, holding him tightly. What could be said? Nothing about that was okay. He could have only guessed how far behind the 8-ball he had been in figuring it out.
"...We'll change it," he promised quietly, mouth near Ignis' ear. He didn't know how or when. They just would.
no subject
"Please. We have to," the soft words are a desperate plea. Not just to Prompto, but to any higher power that might be listening. Ignis doesn't want to accept any other alternative. He's not sure he can survive it.
no subject
It was like a speech from a children's TV show, and Prompto didn't really know how true it was. He didn't have some sort of formulated plan that he could set out in front of Ignis. All he could offer were vague words of assurance. His arms squeezed Ignis tighter. In many ways he understood what it was like to desperately need a hug, and he wasn't going to tease or hold back when Ignis needed one.
no subject
"Thank you."
Wrap up?
He didn't want to say too much. Actions felt like they meant a lot more than words right now, and it seemed like Ignis could use a good hug. It was the main thing he could offer. He held on, keeping his arms wrapped around Iggy for as long as he wanted.