daemonized | RECOLLE IC CONTACT.

[prompto expected it, but was ultimately not prepared for the pull he gets; he falls back on his ass, but the point of contact isn't too painful. he tilts his head and looks up, grinning.]

No one was home and I didn't wanna hang back with all the monsters around.

[when he gets himself back up on his feet, prompto's grin softens, and he's looking at ardyn worriedly.]

[maybe he is that upset?]

I would have fit perfectly! Next time I'll toss my bag inside first.

[rubbing at his nose, his smile is meek and a bit embarrassed]

Glad t'see you're alive.

Edited 2017-08-09 14:08 (UTC)

[He isn’t upset, he’s just impossibly weary. He’s never had to use his powers so frequently before, and it’s taken so much out of him — but despite everything, he doesn’t want Prompto to get the wrong (read: right) impression of him being useless right now, and so he gives the boy a weak smile after the stands again.]

It isn’t a matter of whether or not you would’ve fit. It just looks like you’re breaking and entering.

[He wasn’t planning on company, but he won’t turn it away, especially if it’s Prompto. He’s glad to see him safe and sound.]

However, I’m glad to see you in one piece as well. Come in, let’s sit and talk for a while.

[And unlocking the front door and entering his home!]

Actually, I should get you a key, shouldn't I?

A key? Really?

[so many people are offering him spare keys. what is this feeling?]

I mean... if you want to!

[he happily steps inside and helps by closing the door. he turns on the lights, stepping ahead and heading for the living room.]

Y'hungry? I'm starving. We finished our mission down in the subway tunnels.

[he's already in the kitchen, looking through the fridge]

Of course I want to. I’d rather avoid you looking like a thief, or being stuck outside for so long that you run the risk of being eaten by a monster.

[The attempt at levity… even if it could possibly be a real threat. Still, he follows into the kitchen, but waves a hand dismissively.] No, I’m not hungry right now, but feel free to take whatever you like.

[He leans an arm onto the counter (his right, specifically), pressing his weight into it. A hand comes up to rub at his face, pinching at the bridge of his nose, before dropping it and focusing on what Prompto is doing.]

And what did you find?

[prompto comes out of the fridge's radius with an armful of an orange juice carton, bread, some leftover salad, and some cold cuts. he's already made himself a guest before ardyn even allows him the opportunity to go choose whatever he wanted.]

Oh, monsters, and stuff, I guess...

[he looks up as he deposits the contents of his arms onto the counter, and finally has a good look at ardyn.]

[he tilts his head]

[something doesn't seem quite right]

Are you okay?

[the question is full of worry, even as prompto walks over, closer, studying him.]

["Monsters and stuff". Part of him is willing to leave it at that, and ask again later when he feels more like parsing any of it. The rest wants to push for more details, because surely there was more.]

We had a console that needed activating in ours. We managed it, somehow.

[But he doesn't get to finish. Prompto is looking at him like something is wrong, and immediately Ardyn straightens.]

I'm fine. [Always the default answer, and he forces a lopsided grin on his features. But up close, Prompto might note that he cannot hide the tiredness in his eyes, so very prevalent.] The adventure just has me a bit worn, is all. I'm not used to any of the injuries incurred from monster fighting.

[prompto isn't a dumb cup of noodles, you know]

[huffing, he frowns, and then starts pushing/helping ardyn towards the living room]

Y'used your healing magic all over the place.

[it's not a question at all, and prompto's forcing ardyn to sit down on the couch]

Just lie down, okay? [helps his feet up on the couch... then stands, helping remove his shoes with some angry tugs (he's not angry though)] I'll get you some pillows! Do you have painkillers? You prefer tea to coffee, right?

[two shoes, tossed to the floor]

[he's going upstairs and you can't stop him]

[;ladsf HE IS BEING MANHANDLED TO THE COUCH RIGHT NOW--

And no, he doesn't think Prompto is dumb; though he tries his best to hide any sense of him feeling as exhausted as he does, he merely blames himself for not being able to pull it off as well as he'd like.

Before he knows it, he's on the couch with his shoes being pulled off. He'd sit up, but he's just too dang tired.]

Prompto-

[Aaaand he's gone.]

[prompto returns with a line of cats behind him, pillows and blankets on his arms, and a bottle of painkillers in his mouth. he helps set ardyn up, comfortable as he could be on the couch.]

[then the painkillers, he dangles the bottle over ardyn]

Do these help?

[How has Prompto managed to get his cats in a single file line? Is he a pied piper? Ardyn wonders this as the pills dangle above his head, rattling in its bottle. This is vaguely embarrassing, because he feels like an elderly man being attended to -- as if he's absolutely useless, unable to help himself.

In rebellion against this thought, he attempts to prop himself up on his elbows. It requires too much effort, but he manages.]

Prompto, if I take those, I'll be useless for the rest of the evening.

[prompto cocks an eyebrow]

That's the point.

[he takes the medicine bottle into a fist, however, and pockets it]

Maybe after you got something to eat. Not good to have medicine on an empty stomach.

[he heads back to the kitchen. he'll make a quick salad, and put water on the kettle]

You don't have to-

[And the young man is gone again. Ardyn sighs, shifting himself up and swinging his legs back to the ground, so that he can stand up, as long as Prompto isn't looking.

SORRY PROMPTO but he'll be gone when the boy returns, but will be seen coming down the hallway just a second or two later. ~~stubborn lucis caelums~~]

Catch.

[He says tiredly, but with a smile. He tosses something small and metal at him; it's a house key.]

[prompto's only pouting at the fact that ardyn moved from the couch, but he catches the key without much of a problem... still. frowns.]

Honestly, this could've waited.

[huffily]

[don't make him forcefully tuck you in]

Aren't you exhausted?

[You're going to have to, look at how stubborn this man is, with a hand leaning against the wall, saying:]

Come now, I'm fine. You're worrying too much.

[He'll move to the couch, everything aching, as a show of this.]

You have too much on your plate right now to be fussing with me. I'm the one who's supposed to look after you, you know.

[prompto sighs. he wants to refute ardyn on the whole being looked after (like, who even says that? it's not fair!), and instead sets down everything he's carrying and goes instead into the cupboard under the stairs. from there, he brings out a binder stacked with several pages.]

If you lie down for the rest of the night, just this once, please--I'll read you the chapter of The Boy And His Chocobo that I've been writing in secret.

You what?

[Okay, out of everything, that is enough to make Ardyn look surprised and caught off-guard. Had Prompto been really hiding that binder in his own home this whole time?]

You've really been working on it?

[He might actually rest for the night just to hear this chapter, ngl.]

Of course!

[he sits down on the floor, his back leaning against the couch, as he opens the binder and goes through the first page.]

I'm mostly done with chapter one. I've been coming here to work on it when I know you weren't home. Like, the one time I told you to meet me for, uh, was it a food truck? And ended not showing up at all...

[turning his head slightly, he grins sheepishly]

Sorry about lying then.

[He blinks, then huffs out a weak laugh, making his way back to the couch. He settles down onto it with a grimace, still sore, but his focus is eying the binder in which Prompto has unearthed.]

How covert of you. Sneaking into my home when I wasn't aware of it.

[A pause, rubbing at the back of his neck.]

I had thought you were still upset with me.

[Meaning the time that Prompto didn't show.]

Yeah... sorry about that too, actually.

[he turns back to the binder, jogging his leg a bit; a nervous fumble on the page]

I know that I keep making excuses for it, and I know I shouldn't... You know I'm not used to having adults who actually give a shit about me. I'm going to try to get better at how I handle myself when that happens.

[Ardyn shakes his head.]

No, I should... [A pause.] Despite everything, you asked for me not to tell Togusa about your gun and I did anyway. A moment of concern wrought into an impulsive decision.

I owe you an apology for that at any rate.

[prompto's face feels hot at the idea of being offered an apology; of an adult admitting to doing something wrong towards him and wishing to rectify said wrong. prompto doesn't answer what ardyn is implying, as he instead turns to a page with writing, and stubbornly starts reading out loud.]

A Chocobo Among Sunflowers, by Prompto Argentum.

[he turns the page again.]

The darkness of the night was the perfect cover, but it did nothing to quell the persistent feeling that someone was watching him. The air was muggy, summer nights offering no comfort from the intense heat of the day. There was no breeze, either, but a place as landlocked as this one, there was no hope of ever receiving the blessings of the ocean's cooler and salty breeze. It was not something that the boy wasn't used to in his life, but the pervasive feeling of freedom kept nagging at his bones, ever since he found out that the egg he had found, as a child, and taken care of until it hatched was a golden-yellow creature--apparently the last of its kind.

The chains at his ankles were easy enough to remove, having spent years toying with the lock's mechanism, and although this was so the boy never saw it a need to leave this dreadful place. It was home, for all he knew, and the fact that he wasn't worth enough gold to make a profit gave him the exhausted notion that he was not wanted elsewhere.

Hiding behind barrels filled with feed, there was only one thing he wanted from this place before he left.

A sad chirp came from the barn.

The value of the chocobo he had grown up with was not something his owners knew of. Chocobo were considered to be dumb creatures, wild and ugly, with little chance for a big exchange in gold. A local merchant noticed it in recent days, however, and the news spread fast. Royalty wished for it, to see it and then own it, to be part of their collections, without realizing that it already belonged to another.

Sunny was shackled to the floor of the barn, the chain bruising its foot whenever it pulled.

"It's me," the boy whispered, shushing the startled chocobo, pressing gentle hands into its soft plumage. The chocobo relaxed, leaning her head against the boy's own. Even so, the feeling of urgency became one of panic now that he actually was here, but his hands worked deftly on the chain, muttering soft words of comfort whenever Sunny became too agitated.

The chocobo rose to her full height--three feet she had grown--once the chain clicked apart. Feathers rustled, and the boy didn't have a chance to grab a saddle. It would just be what food he managed to steal and put into a makeshift bag, tight around his chest, as he climbed up.

The moment they stormed out of the barn it was chaotic; the horses were startled and the dogs started barking. Light flooded from the inside of the caravans, doors opening frantically, and the shout of men and women alerting those still asleep, "thief!," but the boy and his chocobo were already running, past the lights of the outside torches and into the woods surrounding the campsite. One thing Sunny was good at was running, and could she run, even if they were now in what many consider to be treacherous woods.

In here, the darkness of the night became heavier, inky black, almost impossible to be able to discern shapes at all. But the boy felt wind on his hair, whistling past his ears, chasing away the drops of sweat on his brow--and he was smiling, holding a cluster of feathers tightly in his hands.

Their first taste of freedom was the stomping of heavy feet running on leaves and fallen branches, and the boy's exhilarated yell into the night.

[.....]

End of chapter one.

I made a couple of changes from the original.

[he straightens the pages out in front of him, on his lap, and waits for a response...]

[His apology stubbornly swept aside, Ardyn takes no offense as he listens to Prompto's story. And as he lets the imagery develop in his mind as the young man reads it all off to him, he cannot help but feel that there is something equal parts inspirational and sad in this first chapter. He wonders how much of this should be reflected in Prompto himself -- or if he's just trying to read too much into it, as he's often in the habit of doing.

Regardless, he does close his eyes for a moment as the story is told, leaning his head back to rest on the couch. He only looks at him when he's done.]

Is it an allegory?

[He does like it. That goes unsaid. Ardyn is the sort who would not hide criticism if there was any to be had; that's the professor part of him.]

Dunno about that.

[he says with a quiet shrug, getting up and going over to grab a glass of water and the painkillers, again.]

I just like the idea of some kid and his chocobo exploring the world and going on an adventure. Whether it's meant to reflect reality or not... I dunno. I guess we all wanna be free.

[smiling, now, he ushers ardyn to take the medicine.]

[He follows him with his gaze. This time, when met with the painkillers, Ardyn will not resist nor complain.]

Why doesn't-

[Well, he supposes he'll take the medicine first. He does, and it goes down easily enough. He holds the glass in his hand for now.]

-the boy have a name?

RECOLLE IC CONTACT.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)