want_to_belong (
want_to_belong) wrote in
lifeaftr2018-08-05 09:21 am
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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
"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.