"He doesn't hate you. He just hates what you represent." Probably not a comfort, really, but he figured one was better than the other. A personal hatred was harder to scrape off one's mentality than an associated bias. Noctis had a pretty powerful distaste for the Niffs himself, but Prompto had made a solid first impression that helped a lot with the whole 'not all bad' concept. "Anyway, it's just more incentive to prove him wrong."

He reached down to wind his fingers around his father's, feeling how chilly he was, thanks to bloodloss and the unheated garage. The area was a desert, but it still got cold at night. After rubbing his dad's hand for a minute to warm it up, he tucked it back under the blanket covering him, gently tugged the crown free from his hair and set it aside in case he accidentally rolled in his sleep, and leaned back. He needed to keep his hands busy, lest he fidget. He'd put the energy drinks in the armory already, so he called the phoenix feather into his hands first in a soft flash of blue light and grabbed a small table, setting it up in front of his seat.

"Hey, so... tell me what happened? At the signing, I mean... how'd you end up with my dad? Or just- anything you remember. We might need the info later." It wasn't much of a distraction, since the memory couldn't be a pleasant one, but he'd held off before and he really needed to know. Not just about his father, but everyone else who must have been in that room. How much of the council was gone? Clarus? The Niffs who started the fight? It was important to find out both- even a vague list of allies, and enemies.