real_life_rpg: ([PROMPTO] ☠ quicksilver)
Prompto Argentum ([personal profile] real_life_rpg) wrote2020-11-01 07:30 pm

[PROMPTO] ☠ the times they are a changin' | for [personal profile] carbungle

From his first memory until the age of ten, Prompto had had a happy childhood. He had lived in Gralea with his mother. She was a scientist for the Empire so she worked a lot, but she always made an effort to make Prompto feel loved and special. Of course, a lot of that love was shown in the form of junk food and sweets so Prompto had been a plump young thing. His life drastically changed not long after his tenth birthday after his mother died during a freak accident at the research facility. Afterwards, he was sent to live with his father Verstael Besithia - the Empire's Imperial Research Minister. That happiness and warmth he had known in his life were gone. His father was constantly cold towards him. Had the poor boy put on a strict diet and exercise regime.

The only time Verstael ever showed any sign of warmth was when he was showing off his research and projects to Prompto - something the boy had little interest in, which only served to build more barriers between them. The Empire's Magitek army freaked him out. It made him uncomfortable that the clones being used looked just like him. The whole thing made his skin crawl. And don't even get him started on the Chancellor. He just creeps Prompto out.

The two constants in his life, however, is firstly the knowledge that the Kingdom of Lucis is the enemy. He's heard stories all his life about how the Lucians were evil monsters, set to destroy the world, and that Prince Noctis would one day seal the fate of man and purge them from Eos. He had no reason to believe it wasn't the truth. Why would the Empire lie? Secondly, his secret friendship with Lady Lunafreya - their letters sent back and forth via Pryna. Luna, however, always spoke so fondly of Noctis in her letters

When news of the upcoming peace treaty broke, Prompto was so excited. Finally, the world would know peace. He was also exicted that he would be attending the signing in Insomnia. He would get to see the city he had heard so much about, in person. He would get to see the crystal. He would get to see Luna in person. He couldn't be happier.

The day before the signing, King Regis held a gala to welcome the Empire to Insomnia. Somehow during the course of the evening Prompto found himself talking to King Regis. The man was king of an entire kingdom and yet he made time to speak with a nobody like Prompto. Funny, in those few moments Prompto felt more warmth and kindness than he had ever felt from his own father. Either the stories about Regis were greatly exaggerated or he was an evil mastermind who could fool people with facades of kindness.

All too soon it was time to retire for the night. Prompto was still munching on the delicious snacks as he made it back to the guest suite he was sharing with his father. Verstael shot him the most disgusted of looks as he entered. "Boy, do stop filling your face. You're a disgrace. Don't you remember what a vile creature you were?"

Prompto's heart instantly sank and he disposed of the rest of the snacks in the trash, which seemed such a shame given how nice they were. "Sorry Dad." It was then that Prompto noticed Verstael wasn't alone and that Ardyn was also in the room. Prompto excused himself to the en suite to ready himself for sleep. From the bathroom he overheard Ardyn and Verstael talking about increasing the production of the Magitek army. Wait... increase? That couldn't be right, surely? But he had heard correctly, they were talking about increasing the output of troopers tenfold.

He waited until he heard Ardyn leave before he left the bathroom. "Hey Dad? If we're signing a peace treaty... why do we need more MTs? Surely if there's peace we won't need them?"

"Foolish boy. There will be no peace as long as the false king sits the throne and has the Crystal. Do not involve yourself in matters you do not understand." Verstael stormed off to bed, leaving Prompto alone with his thoughts.

No peace? His mind drifted then to just how many MTs the Empire had brought with them. Surely a few to guard the Emperor was normal, but they had brought ships full of them, hovering just outside Insomnia... His father's words replayed over and over in his head - no peace as long as Regis sits the throne and has the Crystal... Crap... This... wasn't a peace treaty at all. It was an ambush.

His ruffled his hands through his hair, tugging at it with frustration. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He couldn't just rest knowing this whole thing was likely a set-up. He felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't exactly just march up to the King and tell him. One, he'd never get close enough with MTs stalking his every move outside of the suite, not to mention the King's own security. Two, even if he could get close, why would the King even believe him?

Think, Prompto. Think. The Prince had already left for Altissia. He remembered the King saying so earlier in the evening. But maybe... maybe... Prompto knew Noctis and Luna communicated via Umbra the same way he and Luna communicated via Pryna. Maybe there was a slight chance he could get a message to Noctis the same way. He didn't even know if it would work or if Noctis would even believe him but he had to try. Sure enough, Pryna was right there waiting for him. He grabbed some paper and wrote a simple note.

' Treaty a trap. King and Crystal in danger. '

He didn't sign it. He doubted it would be intercepted, but just in case... He pet Pryna as he gave her the note. "Please, girl. Deliver this to Prince Noctis..."

Prompto wasn't sure what else he could do but wait. Sleep didn't come easy. The day of the signing arrived and he could only hope Noctis had received his warning. Still, the uncertainty had his stomach in knots. He could barely concentrate, so tense about what could happen.

All too soon all hell broke out in the signing room. Both sides drew their weapons. Without even thinking, Prompto positioned himself in front of the King, his gun pointed at the Empire. "Stop this!! What happened to peace?!"

"Stand aside, boy. This does not concern you." His father's words dripped with loathing. How could Prompto have been so blind not to see the Empire were the monsters all along?

What happened next was a blur. Battle rang out through the room. Explosions elsewhere in the Citadel as the Empire targetted the Crystal. Prompto wasn't sure how, but somehow he found himself at the end of a corridor, beneath a stairwell, covered in blood and cradling a fatally wounded King Regis against his lap. The stench of death, blood and metal filled the air. His once white robes were stained various shades of red and brown. He torn off some of the material to try to stanch the worst of the King's bleeding. Luckily the corridor provided cover on three sides, there was only one direction any danger could come from so Prom was sure to keep it covered with his gun, even as he tried to help the King. He had suffered his own injuries too. Most notably, his shoulder which had been shattered by a gunshot. The bullet still inside. Luckily, adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay for now.

He idly wondered if Noctis had received his note? Maybe Pryna hadn't made it in time... Maybe Noctis just didn't believe him. Either way, Prom wasn't sure what to do now. He didn't want to risk moving Regis and he didn't want to leave him to try and find help in case he was attacked or simply died alone in a freaking corridor. For now, Prom was firmly froze in fear, doing all he could to keep the other man alive.
carbungle: <user name=fontech> (319)

[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-03 04:23 am (UTC)(link)
Zegnautus Keep. Noctis committed that name to memory for later, refocusing for the moment on their attackers. They were a bit far away for a warp, especially at the speed Ignis was driving, so Noctis let Prompto handle it. He was surprised to see the explosive Prompto threw - when had he gotten that? - but it worked well enough that Noctis called up an elemancy flask and handed it over. He obviously had better aim with it than Noct. "Use this next time you need to- it's fire. We've got a few more, but don't go overboard." He glanced over his shoulder; they've reached the bridge, but traffic is beginning to pick up. It looked like a lot of other people had the same idea as them, not just cars, but people on foot, walking or running towards the exit gates. "It's still a while to go, but we're getting close."

Another car sidled up near them, and Noctis tensed, ready to attack or defend as needed, but when he caught sight of a familiar, horned helmet, his postured relaxed. "Kingsglaive," he clarified, glancing at Prompto. "They can escort us to-"

He never got the chance to finish that thought. He'd raised his hand to wave them closer, but as he did so, he spotted the two side windows slide open and two hands outstretched, sparking with electrical energy, instead of offered aid. Directed at them.

Confused panic flared in his chest, and he abruptly shoved Prompto to the floor of the truck bed with a curse and dropped down over him as twin streams of lighting magic tear through the air where they'd stood seconds ago. Ignis swerved the truck, and he heard Gladio cursing from the front seat, feeling that flicker of magic he always experienced when his armory was accessed. Gladio's got a shield out, then. Good. He lifted up over the edge to check the car, see if he could spot faces; the driver's mask was off, and Noctis recognized the man as one he'd seen around the Citadel growing up- a real Kingsglaive, not someone who had just stolen the uniform. If the magic hadn't confirmed it, that sure as hell did. Traitors in the Kingsglaive? And they're using his father's magic against them? How dare they. What the hell is going on!?

"Forget what I said. They're the enemy, too." With a snarl he lunged upwards, phasing through another bolt of lighting and flinging the Engine Blade at the driver's side window. It sunk deep into the glass and shattered it as he warped, the impact shoving the blade deeper into the arm of the Glaive who shrieked and spun the wheel, as if it could get him further away from Noctis instead of carrying him with them. He twisted the blade mercilessly, earning another gasp of pain, but Noctis was forced to dismiss the sword and let himself drop off the vehicle again as the casters shifted their aim towards him instead, lightning scraping across the side and arcing in the distance ahead of them. He phased as he dropped, sparing himself a dozen or so broken bones from the impact, but it left him so dazed that he barely had enough sense to throw his sword at the back of the truck, warping in to hang off the edge, his eyes wide and wild. "Prompto...!"

They needed to get rid of that car. He could fight magitek soldiers one on one, he could handle some monsters- but a whole group of Glaives? His father's best warriors, who possessed nearly all of the same powers as him and shields besides? Not a goddamn chance. And definitely not while racing along a highway.
carbungle: <user name=fontech> (275)

[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-03 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
First his father, now him? Does Prompto have some compulsion to save royalty? He could have been killed... he had little time to marvel over suddenly being shielded by a Niff, nevermind that he had done the same thing in reverse a moment ago. They had more pressing matters at hand here.

Noctis watched as the other car swerved and spun out of control, exploding with gusts of magic fire, the driver dead and burning in the front seat. The other doors slammed open and a couple of blue lights warped free of the carnage, but it was clear that not all of them escaped unscathed, and though one tried to make chase, coming a little too close to their truck for comfort, after a few warps, the Glaive stopped and slumped over on the side of the highway, and they left him in the dust.

The prince sunk down a little, but doesn't let himself relax. It felt as if his entire world was shattering apart, piece by piece. First the treaty, then his father's near-death, now the people they'd shared their home and their power with for the sake of protecting them were out to kill them? It was insane. Every part of it, absolutely mad. Who the hell were they meant to trust?

At Prompto's question, he shook his head. "We can't. Only the king can break it." Or break it by dying, but he sure as hell was not about to say that. Instead he smacked the window at the back of the seats to get Gladio's attention. "Hey! See if you can wake my dad up, get him to cut off the Kingsglaive from the Crystal." It might screw over the ones still loyal, but they hardly had time to discern one from the other. Better to completely separate themselves and let the Crownsguard sort it out once everyone was one the same level, as far as powers went. He wished Cor was here though, or would at least call back. Cor would know what to do.

Rather than stay down as Prompto advised, he shifted to sit at the edge of the truck bed, eyes darting back and forth, searching for other Crown vehicles amidst the civilians crossing the bridge, as well as checking the sky for more ships. The distance between them and the city proper was considerable at that point, but knowing the Glaives were turncoats made him feel a lot less confident about crossing the exit checkpoint. What if there are traitors in the guard, too?

He looked at Prompto again, grimacing. "They can't warp after us- they'll run out of magic, and even if they caught up like that, they'd be too drained to fight. The Kingsglaive aren't stupid, if they keep chasing us it won't be on foot. If you see another Crown vehicle get close, don't wait- shoot the tires and leave them behind." He looked to the sky, then. "...I don't know how to take down a dropship, though."
carbungle: <user name=fontech> (305)

[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-03 05:11 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, sorry, fresh out of bazookas." Noctis found himself smiling wryly, if only for a moment. There are none on hand, but he could keep an eye out for one, maybe. The cores were a good tip, though. He'd never actually fought the magitek soldiers before today- he knew the weakpoint to strike for a quick kill thanks to Ignis, because Ignis read everything, but that was about it. They were all sort of learning this on the fly. While he didn't know Prompto's reasoning for doing all of this, he sure as hell wasn't going to ignore enemy intel right from the source. (Former-enemy? Tangential ally? He didn't know how to define Prompto now. That was another future-Noct problem.)

He gripped the side of the truck again as they swerved, raising a hand to shield his face from the sparking wheel as the other car spun away, grimacing at Prompto's question. Nice save, though... "I'm better with fire." He could cast spells, technically, but it had never been his gift- thanks to the Marilith attack years ago, his powers had always been a little screwed up, and his control over magic a little too wild and overboard for practical use, especially when he was around other people- you know, that thing that happened all the time when he was fighting. Flasks were safer, but they were still a lot more volatile than the precise bolts that the Kingsglaive could shoot off on the fly.

He pulled another flask from the armory and passed it over to Prompto anyway (lightning this time, as he'd asked for), straightening up as a loud thrumming sound signaled the final gauntlet thrown in their direction- right in front of the checkpoint heading out of the city, a dropship was hovering, and as they drew closer it turned towards the Crown-marked vehicle and began to approach them.

Noctis cursed under his breath. "Should have stolen a civ truck," he growled, then tapped the window again. "Ignis, slow down when we get close. When you see fire, get moving again. You've got our backs while I'm gone," he shot Prompto a cocky smirk at the last part, unable to quite help himself. They were still strangers, but Prompto had given him something that he secretly loved and rarely got the opportunity to indulge in: a chance to give Ignis a mild heart attack by doing something outrageously reckless while unsupervised.

Once they got close enough to the ship, and he saw a gate open up on the side to reveal a handful of troopers ready to drop down and begin attacking, he stood, called out his sword (ignoring the urgent objections of his retainers up front) and flung it up into the door, disappearing in another flash of brilliant blue magic.
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[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-03 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Warping into the dropship felt like entering some kind of alien spaceship- it was all harsh metal and flashing lights, high technology, full of guns instead of the usual, more refined weaponry he was used to. Sure, he had some experience with guns, but they were hardly Lucian style, and he'd mostly used the training to get better at hand-eye coordination, and refining his aim so he could perform more precise warp strikes. Ballistics weren't his style at all.

He didn't have much time to get a good look at the interior beyond the initial, weird impression: the first strike stabbed through the core of the trooper at the forefront of the entrance, and he bowled the trooper over, dismissing his blade and giving his hand a shake to dismiss the tingle of sparks that the robot's destruction left on his skin. He dodged hastily out of the way as another swung an axe at him, slamming his foot into it and sending it alongside one of its neighbours straight out of the ship, flailing through the air past the bridge and towards the water below. His next target was the stationary troops lining the walls of the ship- were those the soldiers Prompto had mentioned? They seemed to have a central core that looked like a pretty good weak spot. He phased past a swing from one of the awakened MTs and slashed it across the leg, severing some important component and sending it tumbling to the floor, then lunged in and stabbed the Engine Blade straight into the chestpece of the nearest trooper. Immediately it began to beep, a shrill warning sound that gave the impression of a bomb about to go off, which was good enough for Noctis. He turned to the next wall and stabbed another, then as he'd been about to return to the edge overlooking the highway, he caught sight of a collection of weaponry hung on the back wall between the lines of MTs. No bazookas, but... hmm. He closed the distance as quickly as he could and slung what looked like a machine gun around his shoulders, and pulled a pistol and a couple of magazines into his armory for later. That was all he had time to grab before the first MT exploded, which started a chain reaction that had him scrambling to escape.

A whole row of them went off like one huge, collective bomb as he reached the open side, and the blast sent him flying outwards before he had a chance to aim a warp strike. He scrambled to right himself in mid-air, but he was moving too fast to make a precise-enough aim for the truck. Instead he flung his sword at a wider target, the other dropship, which was also in the middle of exploding, but was far enough behind that it bought him a few extra seconds. Just enough time to stabilize himself, aim carefully, and throw his sword so it tore into the truck bed right at Prompto's feet, and in another flash of light, he was back where he started.

He was a far cry from how a proper and dignified crown prince ought to be at this point- his hair was messy, clothes torn, visible skin smeared with soot from the explosion, but he looked absurdly pleased with himself as he straightened up and offered the machine gun out to Prompto. "Got you a souvenir."

With the sky cleared, no pursuers left on the road, and the cars blocking the road moving much faster due to the battles occurring so close to the checkpoint, a path opened up ahead of them, and Ignis called out from the front, "Everyone hold on!"

The truck picked up speed, the engine revving, and Ignis abruptly swerved the vehicle to scrape past some poor civilian's car and tear through the barrier, ignoring whatever ruckus erupted at their backs as they left Insomnia and the war behind- with, against all odds, both royals safe and breathing. Ignis didn't slow down at all, steering them down the road towards Hammerhead, and Noctis finally, finally dropped to the floor of the truck, leaning against the side and wincing as all of the warping and magic abuse over the past few hours started to catch up with him. He'd been on the edge of Statis for a while now, and felt just about ready to take a huge nap, even though they definitely wouldn't have time for it for a while. "Shit..."
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[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-04 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
Noctis glanced over as Prompto punched his shoulder, the gesture so companionable and familiar he almost laughed. He'd never had anyone act so immediately comfortable with him- he'd never really had any friends growing up, besides Gladio and Ignis (who were their own complicated sort of friends, having literally been paid to care about him since childhood, so their bonds were genuine but also very obligatory), and no one at school would ever have dared to strike the Crown Prince, even in jest. Weird... but he also kind of liked it? It was such a normal thing to do, especially in the heat of the moment. They had just escaped a warzone together, after all; they were still a mess of blood and grime, still baked on lingering adrenaline, bonded through mutual and defensive destruction. He looked past Prompto, back to his burning home half-hidden by the kicked-up dust and fog of war. He wanted to laugh and cry at once, wanted to go storm an Imperial base while at the same time wanted to curl up and sleep for a year. His emotions were running haywire.

Insomnia was burning.
His father was alive.
The Crystal was gone.
Luna should be safe.
They lost the war.
The war was just beginning.

He wobbled between the two emotional highs and lows for a long moment, as the city shrank away from them the closer they got to Hammerhead, until finally he forced himself to settle, closing his eyes and trying to clear his mind. Just calm, calm. Breath in and out, just for a minute...

...And he dozed off, predictably, his head lolling against the back window, but it was only a few minutes later when the car jerked as Ignis changed gears turning into Hammerhead, and Noctis startled himself awake with a noisy exhale and a bewhildered look. Where- who- oh. Right, shit.

"Gladio?" He leaned in to try and peer through the window, but all he could see was the back of their heads. "How's my dad?"

"Still out," Gladio rumbled, carefully shifting the king closer to carry him out while Ignis parked.

Disappointing, but not a surprise. Noctis glanced over at Prompto, hesitating, then said, "Look, uh... sorry about getting all up in your face, before." it was a high stress situation, absolutely, but he didn't like the get in the habit of being an asshole to people who were helping him. "You're not a prisoner or anything, but... you should probably stick around. We've got some stuff to talk about."

He sure as hell had a few questions to ask- about Luna, about what happened in the Citadel, about why Prompto, a Niff, ended up under the stairs trying to keep his father alive. And Prompto might not have anywhere to go, so it wouldn't feel right to at least extend the offer to hang out and... maybe cooperate a little longer.
carbungle: <user name=fontech> (363)

[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-04 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
Noctis tried not to wince at the reminder; he'd been trying not to think about the fact that it was his father's blood that stained all of them, though Prompto wore more than the rest. They look about the same size, so maybe once they sort everything out he could lend the poor guy a clean set of clothes. They all needed to change, anyway.

He waved Prompto off and told the others to get Regis to the garage; it wouldn't be the cleanest place to let a wounded man rest, but he could stretch out, it was more easily defended than a truck, and Cid would surely help them as an old friend of the king. He wanted to follow them and stay by his father's side, but he was trying to be a responsible leader in the king's stead; someone had to keep an eye on things, and he'd be the fastest one if someone had to reach the garage quickly. At least, once his magic regenerated itself enough to warp again...

He was seated in the back of the truck when Cor showed up, and there really was no describing the wave of relief he felt, seeing the man again. He felt no concern for a betrayal the way he had with the Kingsglaive, after seeing them attack; soldiers paid to protect them, even after years of loyal servce, were still mostly strangers. Cor, though. He went far and above a normal Crownsguard. Loyalty to the crown and to Lucis was practically woven into his blood. Noctis hopped down from the truck with a tired grimace, and launches straight into the whole story: the message he'd received, the infiltration of the Citadel, finding his father bleeding to death with a Niff turncoat, saving his life and escaping the city together. Cor was as stonefaced as ever for most of it, with only two tells that the story might have affected him- predictably, how close Regis had come to death, but the other moment was when Noctis mentioned Prompto's name. That was weird. Maybe Prompto was more of a bigwig in the Empire than any of them knew. It seemed likely- he wasn't wearing a normal soldier uniform, and he wouldn't have been brought along for the treaty signing if he was a nobody. It just had never occurred to him that someone higher up the food chain would turn against Niflheim.

"Cor?" He couldn't help questioning it, once the story was done. "Do you know who all was at the signing, and why?" He glanced back towards the shop, where Prompto had wandered off to. Prompto's importance didn't change how he felt - he still had no real desire to take anyone prisoner - but he'd rather not deal with some kind of violent confrontation if Cor deemed him a new threat to the king, even after hearing the story.
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[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-04 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
...Well.

He sure as hell hadn't expected that to happen. Noct's brows lifted, his gaze shifting between the two of them, then focused on Cor as Prompto latched onto him, his expression mildly accusatory. What the hell, he had some kind of secret family in Gralea and didn't tell anyone about it? Or, okay, it was more that he didn't tell Noctis about it, because apparently no one told him anything. Once things settled down a little more and everyone was safe and healthy, he was absolutely going to sit down with Cor and his dad and demand to know what the heck all the secrets they'd been carrying were and why he, crown prince and heir apparent, was left in the dark. There was so much going on in the background that he'd had no part of.

'Uncle Leon', Prompto said... and Cor clearly recognized him, felt familiar enough to let Prompto hug him. Noctis couldn't remember the last time even he got away with doing something like that, though it wasn't as if he'd tried in recent years. The days of hugs and piggyback rides from the mountain known as 'Uncle Cor' were years behind them, ever since he started heavy training and was required to act like a proper prince rather than a rogue child who was allowed to mostly do as he pleased. A rare sight indeed, and admittedly surreal.

"Uh." He coughed into a fist, though he immediately dropped his hand with a grimace. He still reeked of blood, and his glove was saturated in it. "You guys want to explain what all that's about, or should I leave you alone for a while?"

He was curious, sure, but this also looked deeply personal. An explanation could wait, and with Cor here, he could easily slip away and stay with his father. He left the choice in their hands.
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[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-04 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
An infiltration mission, then... and Prompto was meant to have been brought to the city and made a Lucian, or at least been accepted as a protected immigrant. And he had also lost someone to daemons as a child. Noctis felt a twinge of sympathy, thinking of his own experience with that. It would be an easy assumption to make with no evidence to the contrary. Daemons rarely left behind survivors, especially not helpless children. His dad must have been an officer invited to the treaty signing, then. The story was starting to come together, though there were still some pieces missing. They'd get there.

Noctis considers the explanation for a moment, added it to everything that had occurred over the course of the day, and then quietly made a decision, stepping up and bumping shoulders with Prompto, his chin lifted, trying to look... well, kingly. He wasn't one (his father is thank the Six still very much alive and if Noct has anything to say about it, will stay that way) but he'd have to step up while his father was out of commission. Now was a good moment to start.

"Better late than never," he announced, looking Cor in the eye with a stubborn sort of expression that offered no room for argument. "He's with us now. The Empire can't have him back." The Niffs have stolen enough from them today; it was about time they stole something back. Or someone, at least. And more to come, once they have targets in mind. He'd more than proven himself all day, in Noct's eyes, and if Gladio or Ignis had any objections, they could suck it. Cor's confirmation of Prompto as someone worth saving was the last push he'd needed. (Hearing that Prompto had pulled a gun on the emperor of all people was just icing. He was a big fan of that one.)

Cor gave him a measuring look in response, lingering for a long moment, then glanced away, his eyes drawn towards the garage. "If Prompto has no objections, I have none either."
carbungle: <user name=fontech> (365)

[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-04 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Don't worry, he said. Noctis watched Cor's retreating back with a deep frown, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to follow him, park himself next to his dad, and not move a single muscle until he woke up. After that scare in the Citadel he'd prefer to never let his dad leave his sight again, frankly. That wasn't how he'd be most useful, though, and he knew it- and Cor did too, for him to dismiss them like that. He looked down at himself. ...Yeah, he looked bad, and he could feel the exhaustion so deep it was in his bones. Prompto looked about ready to fall over, too, and they needed to get him out of the Niff suit.

He forced himself to turn away from the garage, fishing a pen and a scrap of paper from his pocket and writing a few things down. "You've got more gil, right? We need to restock some supplies and prep for what's next, so buy as many of these as you can afford. It's too late to move anywhere else now, but Cor'll have an idea for tomorrow. Things are gonna get busy for a while, so... get ready, I guess."

He offered the scrap of paper to Prompto; written on it was a list of energy drinks, alongside a phoenix feather souvenir of all things, though that one had a (?) beside it. Phoenix Downs could be exceedingly rare, so his expectations were low, and he didn't actually have the magic to turn them into anything useful yet but Ignis would be twitchy if they didn't have at least a small stock to replenish what was used up today. (And since Prompto was with them now, his money was their money. There were pros and cons to joining the group.)

"I'm gonna move the car off the drive. If no one sees a Crown vehicle parked here, they won't think to call it in. Hopefully they'll wait till tomorrow to hunt us down." He wouldn't be sleeping too soundly tonight, he suspected, but the empire would likely be busy getting Insomnia under control before they started to worry about the missing monarchy. Not like they had any real power out here. "Meet me at the caravan in five? We... should talk."

He pointed to the trailer by the diner. Not the most elegant of accommodations, but they had little to choose from today, and it sure beat camping. They definitely needed the shower.
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[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-04 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Prompto had nothing to worry about, there. Being poor as hell was practically a requirement for being part of the crew. While Prompto went shopping, Noctis worked his way through a quick to-do list: first, he moved the truck to the back of the lot and under the shadow of the garage, which took some work because he was so not used to driving something so huge. The Regalia was long but nowhere near as back-heavy, and the Star of Lucis was compact, build for speed and stability. He decided about two minutes in that the bed-style truck was not his favourite.

Once the car was out of the way, however, he went to check on the Regalia itself, which had been left parked and covered nearby. Some rifling through their luggage netted him a fresh change of clothes, both for him and Prompto, which would cover them until they could a) get the bloody messes washed and b) do a few hunts to earn back the gil they no longer had. He didn't have enough spare outfits for Prompto to keep borrowing them, after all. He grabbed whatever else he needed for the night at the same time and headed over to the caravan to pay the rental fee and get settled inside. He fired a quick text to Ignis, letting him know where he was and to stay with the king for now, maybe work out a plan with Gladio and Cor while he sorted things out with Prompto. He braced himself for an argument - Ignis was too pragmatic to trust leaving him alone with a Niff for long, and he didn't like being separated outside the city even such a short distance - and they bickered back and forth for a minute until he put his foot down and Ignis relented. He was the best strategist, and Gladio the king's shield. They were better utilized with Cor and the actual king than babysitting the prince who could absolutely take care of himself unsupervised for one whole night.

He also sent a quiet wish for Umbra to visit him, in the hopes of contacting Luna more easily, but there was no sign of the dog anywhere. Luna was probably too busy to send a response already, doing whatever she was doing in Altissia. (Definitely, definitely safe in Altissia.)

When Prompto returned, Noctis was scrubbing miserably at the blood on his hands in the washroom, door open to more easily hear someone coming. "Hey. There's a shower here, if you wanna go first. Spare clothes on the table."

He would love to clean up as soon as possible, but between the two of them, Prompto was worse off. And he'd rather stay bloody a little longer than have to look at Prompto's pale Niflheim uniform, still drenched in so much of his father's blood. The drinks were on the table as well, one already open and mostly empty after Noct realized how horribly thirsty he'd felt the second he took a sip.
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[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-05 01:21 am (UTC)(link)
Anyone who knew him would be able to predict that state Noctis was in when Prompto emerged: sitting at the table just outside the caravan, leaning back in his chair with his head propped up by one elbow, quietly dozing. He had only meant to close his eyes for a moment - it wasn't safe, they were still very much on the run and he didn't have any sort of deeply built trust in Prompto the way he had with the others whom he always felt safe to fall asleep around, but he was so tired... looking back, it was hard to believe just how much had happened in a single day. Wasn't it just the other day that they'd left the city and were hunting Scourge-infested beasts in the dust, getting swindled by a cranky old man? They had barely stretched their legs in the wider world, and now they were essentially fugitives in their own country. Insomnia was still burning in the background, and it hurt to watch the smoke rising in the air, so... he'd closed his eyes, and drifted almost immediately.

He startled awake at the sound of the bathroom door, just on the fringe of a deeper sleep that would have been infinitely harder to rouse him from, and with some reluctance he stood up, stretching his arms up over his head. He glanced over and- whoa, glasses? He hadn't expected that. It was strange to see someone else in his clothes, too, but there was no denying that a more casual outfit suited Prompto better than the Niff uniform he'd started out in. The lack of blood was a blessing as well, so Noctis had no regrets lending him the clothes.

He mumbled a vague thanks and headed inside, grabbing his clothes and immediately beelining for the shower as well. His was faster, if only because he didn't want to miss anything- Ignis or Gladio coming to fetch him, or a text letting him know his father woke up, an attack... anything. He was still on edge and very much hated that feeling, but he was helpless to do anything about it, so instead he settled for scrubbing the blood off of his skin until it looked red and raw, and clinging to the anger he'd felt earlier, watching his city burn or the Crystal get carried off. They'd get it back, and they'd strike back against Niflheim, one way or another. This was far, far from over.

He emerged a short while later with damp, unstyled hair and a fresh outfit, idly sifting through his wallet to count their remaining funds as he stepped out of the trailer. A few hundred left... Takka's place was still open, they might have enough for a cheap meal if they share one. "You really like chocobos, huh?"

He felt a little more awake after the shower, the lukewarm water forcing his body to shiver and keep his temperature up, so he was more attentive to the belongings Prompto had brought with him, seeing them laid out inside.
carbungle: <user name=fontech> (348)

[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-05 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
Noctis made an affirming noise at the chocobo spiel, pocketing his wallet. (Chocobos were absolutely the best, and curiously enough, this brought some much-needed context for the inexplicable charm that always hung from Cor's sword, in retrospect, since he never seemed to carry much fondness or affinity for the birds himself.) He made a mental note to take out the map once they finished with the important stuff; it might cheer Prompto up to know just how close they were to the chocobo farm, though they have some work to do before they can venture that far. Gotta work before they can play.

At Prompto's question, he sat quietly for a moment, mulling it over. Where to even begin. He wanted to know everything, but was it better to wait for the others so Prompto doesn't have to relive it more than once? He looked really badly affected by what went down, more than Noctis expected, considering it wasn't even his country on fire. If it was that bad, though, Noctis could always pass the story along to the others, and they could question him as needed. Might be better not to overwhelm him. They'd sort of developed a rapport on the back of the truck, something Noctis had found as unexpected as it was kind of... awesome? It was incredibly rare that he found anyone who fought well at his side, something that had taken he, Ignis, and Gladio years to perfect. With Prompto it had come about weirdly naturally. He wanted to see if it was a fluke or not, and that meant giving Prompto fewer reasons to up and vanish on them- or switch sides back to Niflheim, if the opportunity arose.

That was ultimately what sealed it for him. This was a conversation for the two of them, not the others. They could figure the rest out later. "Um... I guess first of all, who are you? Why were you in Insomnia? I know your name, but Luna didn't give me a lot of details, just that you two were friends kinda like her and me." He waited a beat, and then added, "Also... I want to hear what you know about Luna."

He'd been told she would be in Altissia. He'd wanted her far away and safe. But he couldn't keep ignoring that niggling little feeling in the back of his mind, that he was missing something crucial. Prompto had hoped she was safe... if she'd gone to Altissia, why would he say that?
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[personal profile] carbungle 2020-11-05 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
Noctis was quiet for a while after Prompto finished speaking, his expression unreadable as he mulled over the half-dozen bombshells just dropped on him. Prompto Besithia, son of the man who made the MTs currently destroying his home. The fact that they were planning to make more, despite the treaty meant to end the war, despite Insomnia being the last hurdle to overcome before they controlled the entire world and all opposition was defeated. The fact that Luna was meant to be in Insomnia, not Altissia, and everything he'd been told about the wedding had been nothing but a lie.

On top of all of that, Prompto called him Noct. The familiarity of it made something in his chest twinge, like it felt wrong and right at the same time.

The silence lasted almost too long, broken only by the sound of Prompto crying, before finally he exhaled through his nose and buried his face in his hands, elbows on the table to hold him upright. He stayed like that for another handful of moments, too. Fuck. Fuck. Everything was real bad, wasn't it.

"I don't... know," he finally whispered, his voice muffled by his hands. "I hope so."

He had almost lost his father today. He didn't know what he would do if he lost Luna instead. He hadn't even made it to Galdin, for Astrals' sake. He was supposed to get married, it was all supposed to be over. Instead it was like the whole world was falling apart.

Carefully he lowered his hands again, his gaze fixed on the table. He kind of wished he could cry the way Prompto was, but mostly he just felt numb, overwhelmed and trying not to drown in it all. He was the prince. He had to stay strong, had to step up and lead the way his father would, if he were awake and healthy enough to do so. Everyone would be counting on him, going forward. He reached into his pocket, suddenly remembering it, and gazed down at the ring of the Lucii in his palm. It felt... wrong, holding it. His dad was still alive, it shouldn't be his. He could feel the magic pulling at him nonetheless, frightening and ancient and immensely powerful. Put it on, it seemed to whisper.

Instead he put it back into his pocket and stood up, beginning to pace from one side of the table to the other, suddenly unable to sit still despite his exhaustion. "If Luna's okay, she'll send Umbra soon. We'll have to believe in that until we know more." The thought of Luna dying, or the thought of them being in the same city and having to unknowingly abandon her... both options would leave him frozen, unable to move forward. His only choice was to deny the possibility. Wherever she was, she'd be safe for tonight. Gods, he hoped she was safe.

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