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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
[Naturally, he knew well the downside human bodies could have, and struggled when he was younger with his health.]
It's still kinda hard to fathom some of that. Magic works so differently where you're from. I keep wanting to think that it's, like, connected to someone else.
no subject
[She shakes her head slightly. How on Earth do humans manage like this?]
Nothing contagious, at least- our people can be born with chronic conditions, the kind of issue one inherits, but we don't catch anything.
[That gets a curious headtilt, the intricacies of magic in other worlds always an intriguing topic to her.]
Oh? Who would it be connected to, if I might ask? It's always so interesting to learn more about other worlds and the way they do things.
no subject
[And aches and pain and everything else that went with being sick. Not recommended, 1/10 rating.]
All our magic was connected to the king. His Majesty had magic, and other people could borrow his magic if he let them. Like the Kingsglaive. They were kinda like soldiers? Nyx was one, if you remember him.
When His Majesty died, it... [He paused for a moment. They'd been keeping things quiet for safety, but the cat had been let out of the bag previously.] Well, that role was passed onto Noct. We could summon our weapons and all that because of him. But it was just us. He didn't have so many people borrowing his power.
no subject
That's a rather fascinating power- could only kings share magic in such a way? In my world, one can use something that another person has put magic into, the way people can eat my food and be healed by it, but that isn't the same as giving them power directly...
no subject
...Maybe that was a good thing. His dad was aging really fast. I think it takes a toll.
[Something he'd never discussed with Noctis, because 'Hey, your dad looks like he's dying' wasn't the happiest subject.]
It's weird to think of it just being a normal thing. It's more like, divine stuff back home.
no subject
I confess, I find it strange to think of it as uncommon- it would be like not breathing, to us. Divinity, I'm afraid I can't speak on- we might have deities at home, but I've certainly never met them.
no subject
So you guys don't know of any Astrals or anything? No, like, Storytellers or anything of your own? Or, have you just not met them?
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I helped Noct get to her, though! And, uh... [Sounding rather proud of his actions, he paused quietly there. There were bad memories associated with that, too.]
no subject
My, she sounds rather difficult to deal with. Fighting a god seemed unpleasant enough even with the Storyteller's assistance. Was your group standing against her by yourselves, or did you have divine support there, too?
no subject
It's a lot different than what we've been doing here.
no subject
It seems no one was quite prepared for the way things work, here. Many of us have bits and pieces of useful experiences, but I don't think anyone was ready for the whole of it. I wonder if that's why they took us all together...?
no subject
Not sure what they'd want with all of us, either. I mean... do they just want people living here? We don't seem to find a lot of other civilizations, and most that we do find are destroyed or super sketchy.
no subject
[Ai'tuoh was definitely sketchy, to put it mildly.]
It's hard to be certain, with knowing so little... I do suspect they want something, but it doesn't seem to be any of us specifically- look at how often people seem to be returned home. Whatever's responsible for this entire predicament seems to be more concerned with bringing us than keeping us.
no subject
[He sighed.]
Guess we don't have enough info to try and make guesses yet. We just keep getting more and more stuff dumped on us.
We can probably wrap this soon unless you want to do more with it.
That seems to be the heart of the matter, yes- we've found just enough to make trouble, but not enough to come up with proper answers. I suppose there's nothing for it but to keep going...
Sounds good to me, pretty old thread now
[He paused quietly. Thoughtfully. Even he had his quiet moments.]
...I'm doing okay, if you wanted to go check on other people.