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uploadedmeme2018-08-18 12:01 am
uploadedmods) wrote in uploadedmeme2018-08-18 12:01 am
Entry tags:
Test Drive
TEST DRIVE 001
-TDM threads can be considered game canon if players involved agree & if it suits any roles you may decide to choose for the current plot.
-Any reserving player that does not submit an app by Saturday morning will be subject to challenging applicants.
-Participation in the Test Drive is worth a flat 10 points per month rather than per thread, and you must have a minimum of 5 comments in that month to qualify for it.
-This TDM is good for the duration of the Mist setting. A new TDM will go up before the next setting.
The NETWORK for this setting is a voice-only walkie talkie system that can be used to communicate between all locations. The default channel will be open to all walkie talkies, but characters can change to an unused channel for private conversation.
of note: There seems to be something strange about these walkie talkies, in that there is no static. The quality is disturbingly crystal clear, like the person you're speaking to is right next to you instead of miles away.
CONTENT WARNING: Some prompts contain gore, character death, and substance abuse.
Applications will open Saturday, September 15 until Saturday, September 22
The lights above you are a blindingly, pristine white. The walls around you curve up into the ceiling like the inside of an MRI machine. Your hands, feet, and midsection are strapped to a clinical table, and minutes seem to tick by, with no clear course for escape presenting itself to you.
The curved white space above you flickers with color, and a perfect square like a television screen expands before your eyes. It pans over what appears to be a town, something small and simply populated.
“Hello, and welcome to your first setting,” a neutrally cadenced feminine sounding voice begins, riding the line between human and machine. As she speaks, captions of the text type themselves in neat and perfect Arial font. “The location is loosely based off Bridgton, Maine, United States of America, Earth. The year is 2007. You have been selected to participate. Obedience ensures an enjoyable and immersive experience for our audience. If you have been granted a role, instructions will follow. Do not talk about the role. Do not attempt disobedience. If you have not been granted a role, your objective for this round is simple: survive.”
After that, the shackles may release promptly and allow your character to roam free. Or perhaps not — perhaps they've been given a role to play, and if so, further instructions will play out upon the screen. Once suitably briefed, characters will be released to their own devices. Beware the mist.
learn from the mistakes of others
A pair of unperturbed mall inhabitants decide to chance the mist. They're the first of a handful to trickle out the front doors, and they seem to get by just fine. About a minute ticks by, and they disappear completely into the dense fog that presses in from every direction. It's so anticlimactic that for a moment it almost seems stupid to feel uncomfortable by the sight of it.
Until precisely one half of a body is hurled abruptly and with great force from an indeterminate point in the obscurity. It's not a top half or a bottom half; no, it's a cleanly sliced left half, head to toe as though a neat line were cut down the middle. It slams into the transparent glass doors and crumples before them, still and obviously unmoving, slowly leaking.
After a few seconds, a dark tendril of something reaches out, curls around the jutting left ankle, and drags it with painstaking slowness back into the fog.
At least the rest of them probably made it, right?
Right?
Hopefully you weren't one of the others to follow their lead. If you were, that dark shape seems to be closing in awfully quick.
eff this, let's bounce
A pair of car keys can be found discarded or perhaps dropped in their owners' haste. Braving the mist when it's at its lightest and pressing the key fob will cause a car to beep politely, flashing lights to indicate its location in the fog. Take anyone willing to go with you and pile in. Try to get the hell out of dodge!
An excellent idea....
Within five miles of the car's journey the battery will die and the engine will stall. Consider yourselves effectively stranded and with no one but yourselves to blame. Perhaps help will come if you wait long enough? Hours, surely no more than a few days... Maybe you should consider braving the fog to get back? Five miles can feel like a hundred in conditions like these.
Either way, it seems like you're trapped in the car for about as long as R. Kelly got trapped in the closet during that one unfortunate CD.
radio chatter
Characters in the library and the church will be able to communicate via walkie talkie radio chatter immediately! Characters in the mall will not have this ability until later in the month, so any network style threads with a mall character will take place during Week Two of the October plot or later, after most people have already been fully introduced to the setting and given time to adapt.
Employee of the Month (Multiple)
Some characters will be printed wearing a designated kiosk uniform, their name sloppily stickered in slightly crooked letters onto a Dippin' Dots badge, or whatever store they may happen to be assigned to. The cool voice that introduces them to the mist will carry on to tell them that they'll be playing employee # _____ in this month's immersive experience. Their motivations and objectives are simple: go to work.
Except the role seems to be bugged, because they can never not go to work. If they leave the five or six foot radius of their designated post they'll begin to experience consequences, which worsen in severity based on distance and duration. The role doesn't end at mall closing, it doesn't end on Saturdays, it simply doesn't end. Hopefully next month's code push will have a bug fix; we apologize for the inconvenience.
(If choosing to keep these threads as game canon, the role will wear off within the first in-game week)
Aggravated Assault
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing the role of a CONVICTED FELON having recently been released on parole. Your motivation for this month's immersive experience is frustration. Having undergone hard time, you'll find that we have increased your aggression and temper characteristics, and lowered your inhibitions. Your objective is to find and begin an altercation with Snuff the Rooster, who will be playing the role of the person who turned you in, NARK. Your altercation must take place in a public space with witnesses, and may not stop until Snuff the Rooster is unconscious, evicted from the mall, or someone intervenes.
Thank you for your participation!
Consequences for not completing the objective in this role can be moderate to severe.
Snuff the Rooster
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing the role of NARK. Formerly a close friend and ally of CONVICTED FELON from Aggravated Assault, you were quick to roll on them during police questioning in exchange for your freedom. Your motivation is to turn over a new leaf, and get your shit together. Your objective is to survive the altercation.
Thank you for your participation!
The Lovers (Duo Role)
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing one half of a partnership role! Please seek out (character 2). Your motivation this round is love, and the need to protect your partner from threats both inside and outside of the mall. Your objectives is to greet your lover with a kiss and place them above all others. Do not act like strangers.
Consequences for not completing the objective in this role or failing to present a convincing couple can be mild to moderate.
Pathological
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing a background character in our current setting. Your motivation is to tell lies; at least one third of what you say must be unarguably untrue. Your objective is to keep these lies from being discovered as false.
Consequences for not complying with this role can vary from mild to severe, with the compulsion to tell larger and larger lies growing as time goes on.
Scared Speechless
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing a background character in our current setting. You may choose one person, stranger or otherwise. This is the only person you may communicate with, either verbally or through writing.
Consequences for not complying with this role are severe.
potency error
Someone seems to have miscalculated the relative strength of intoxicants; all inhibition-altering substances seem to have been cranked up to eleven. One shot has the strength of three, though the taste seems to stay exactly the same. One or two drinks will quickly creep up on you. One of the joints found discarded in the bathroom trashcans will easily green you out. God forbid you've got anything stronger.
greatest movie of all time
Settling in to the relatively nice theater found at the far end of the mall is a decent way to make the time go by. The projectors are automated, and there are six different theaters that show flicks at scheduled times.
Except that every single one of them is showing Spider-Man 3. Every single one, every single showing, no matter what is advertised, becomes Spider-Man 3. That's how you know this is a horror game. Hope you didn't wander in by mistake because the doors will shut behind you and leave you to watch the entire showing. Please keep your feet off of the seats.
please replace toner cartridge
It seems there was an error in printing someone this first time around; everything came through but the visuals somehow. Your character is flesh and blood, fully formed, wearing tangible clothes even, but are completely invisible. Donning additional clothing causes it to clip out and then promptly disappear. Taking clothes off will cause them to reappear. Hopefully this gets fixed in the next lite patch.
(If choosing to keep these threads as game canon, the glitch will wear off within the first in-game week)
no subject
"Those are both remarkably astute. As you know, Noctis also has a fondness for arcades and anywhere he can set his head down for a nap. So any benches, dark corners, or areas with bedding would be worth a look." Which is probably more than half the damn mall, as luck would have it. But at least they have some sort of goal.
(There's still entirely too much left unanswered, but they can tackle that as they go. As always, they must keep moving forward.)
"As for Gladio... some sort of disgustingly cheap noodle vendor is possible, but his first instinct may be to search for Noctis as well. Better we put our efforts there at first and hope we run into him along the way." There. A nice succinct plan.
It doesn't take long to reach the front of the store: and even then it's still looks like just a normal mall. perhaps a bit sparse of people, and the roiling fog visible through the windows dims the area some, but it hardly looks nefarious. "Tell me if you see any likely stores, or some sort of directory. I'll do the same."
no subject
Ignis keeps talking and Prompto feels bolder in asserting himself back into an old dynamic. (It's old for him, considering everything that he knows has happened; it might be the same old for Ignis, however.) There's a pleased look on his face at the thrown-about compliment offered, about his astuteness.
Truth be told, Prompto is glad that Ignis is with him. He would have wandered aimlessly otherwise, and it really is nice to have a plan set up.
He puts his hands up to his face, just to make a silly gesture with his fingers around his eyes, as if to demonstrate how observant he'll remain.
"I'm on the lookout! No worries, Igster. The four of us will be fake camping in one of the campsite displays in no time!"
Clearly, he thinks himself funny, and while Prompto manages to keep the energetic charade for a minute or two (hurrying forward to scope out stores before falling back with the other), he is in no time petering out, hands landing to rest over his tummy. All this talk about fishing and noodles...
He sighs softly to himself, still glancing from store to store.
"Say, Iggy..." he starts, a little withdrawn for his usual character. "What's the last thing you remember before coming here?"
no subject
Even if that comes with unfortunate nicknames. 'Igster'. Ridiculous.
But he manages to refrain from commenting on that, instead chuckling quietly at his energy. "I think 'fake camping' sounds much more relaxing than real camping ever did, to be quite honest. Do you think we should spend the night here once we find them, or continue on out?"
He's not seen the mist yet, the horrific effects born of it. So why would they just stay contained in the shipping plaza?
But then there's that serious undercurrent that keeps flowing up and ebbing back between them, rising slowly and steadily like a tide. And the question isn't wrong. He had been wondering how to ask about their potentially differing experiences since Prompto had mentioned being along in Gralea, of all places. His pace slows slightly giving him time to think, while still keeping his eyes out and away from the conversation between them.
"...Clearly something different from yourself. The last thing I remember was going to bed for the night. Noctis still hadn't decided whether there was more to accomplish out in Cleigne or if we were going to finally embark for Altissia." Again, there's that soft frown: his brows coming together in thought, knowing there's something ultimately wrong about this all, but not being able to quite pick it apart.
"Do you plan on sharing the details of your experience? While I won't pry if you're not prepared, I'm... I have difficulty imagining how I could have missed or slept through an event of that magnitude."
no subject
Prompto starts at the question, unsure of whether sharing any details at all will be productive. If Ignis doesn't know anything about their arrival to Altissia and the events that followed the waking of Leviathan, would it be a waste of time to try and explain them -- or would they make Ignis feel that much more like he has no control over things? Prompto hates to see the adviser struggle so much in that aspect.
"Like!" he pipes up, before Ignis tries to -- gods forbid -- guilt him into giving an answer. "I do wanna tell you! But, it seems like there's a huge difference between what I know and what you know!" Wide arm movements don't seem to really help Prompto make much sense. He does end up enveloping onto himself and rubbing at the bruises on his wrists gently, almost as if it were still cause of pain. Even if the memory is, more so than the current state of things. "...or something like it."
Sighing, he stops altogether, head tilted downwards to stare at his locked hands.
It should be alarming, that in Ignis's cognition, they haven't left Lucis. He somehow manages to keep the panic from spilling out.
"We had already embarked to Altissia. Noct saw Lady Lunafreya and everything. He commuted with Leviathan," and you got hurt to the point where you can no longer see. "We got out of there, made way towards Catarnica and then Gralea..."
no subject
It's just that the notion of such is simultaneously ridiculous and incredibly isolating, in a way he can't quite describe.
He stops as Prompto does, looking back to the blonde man. It's impossible not to see just how hard this is on him. How carefully all the words are chosen, how he looks like someone on the verge of breaking the worst news to someone. The more withdrawn, inward posture, so unlike how excited and energetic he'd been moments ago. And again it hits Ignis how difficult whatever he'd been through must have been on him: especially if everything he'd said was accurate, and that at some point in Gralea Prompto had been separated from the group and, if those bruises are to be believed, bound in some fashion.
(He's trying to imagine how such a thing could come about. And he's not idealistic enough to think that they would necessarily go back for him, if the choice was a crownsguard recruit or Noct's safety.
He'll ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach at that realization.)
"...That's quite a long time, even in a best case scenario. At least a number of weeks." After all, Accordo was close enough by boat.. but organizing the ritual with Leviathan? Moving on to Niflheim, and finding a way across the terrain there? And then reaching Gralea for, what he assumes, is the Crystal itself.
He pulls off his glasses with a frustrated sigh, beginning to rub them against the side of his shirt. "....The implication seems to be there's either something wrong with my memory, or that you've experienced events far ahead of me-- and despite that, we seem to have been drawn into the same, separate, time and place."
no subject
His withdrawn rubbing of his wrists turns into a nervous one. He feels himself pause, trying to collect his thoughts. He manages to intone, with the smallest of smiles and the most optimistic intent.
"Your memory's impeccable, Iggy. Doubt that's the problem."
Because for any of these events to have happened and for Ignis to remember them, he must have lived through them. He should be blind and clumsy. He isn't, though.
"It could be a weird time loop! Who's to say it's not possible...?"
And although he's trying to breathe through with an enthusiastic attitude, he can't help the dwindling optimism as he comes to the slow realization that they don't know shit, likely accompanied with we are pretty fucked.
no subject
Finished cleaning the lenses of invisible smudges, he presses his glasses back on his nose, expression still rather pinched and perplexed. "But I doubt that to be the case, because it also claimed this area was based off a place called 'Bridgeton, Maine, United States of America, Earth.' None of which I've ever so much as heard of."
Given the naming convention he's assume it's a city within a province within some sort of union or conglomerate of nations, within... Well, it could be a continent or and entire planet, really. "Claiming that our time back home is meaningless in this place would certainly begin to tie it all together... though it would make the idea of returning home significantly more challenging."
And if he and Prompto's time is differed so greatly: what of the others?
He rubs at his temples at the idea. He'll have to sit down and work through all of this at some point. Maybe even work out some notes. The ideas are entirely too nebulous to truly focus and discuss all at once. And if Prompto has experience that he's yet to run into... there's certainly a strong temptation to press for details and to ask. But then wouldn't there be certain rules about that? For the first time in his life, he's wondering if he should have read more science fiction, but the thought quickly passes.
"I suppose we should just hope that when we find Noct he isn't fifteen again or something equally ridiculous."
no subject
"There could be a number of explanations! Like... a daemon's effect, or even one of the Astrals being really funny," clearly, Prompto knows and respects very little of how Astrals behave, but he tries to think that some of them have a sense of humor. Maybe Bahamut? (Bahahamut.)
Although the mention of Noctis, yet again, has Prompto wanting to steel his resolve, but it also helps to somehow dilute what motivation he had rolling in him. Noctis... He'd come find him, right? He didn't just... shove him off a train because he hated him.
Right?
"Like I said, Iggy," he presses onwards, even pressing a hand to Ignis's forearm. "It's going to be alright." A pause. "Okay, now I'm imagining a fifteen year old Gladio and thinking he'd terrify the living shit out of me."
Completely serious.
no subject
Though his comment of a younger Gladio does make him crack a smile, shaking his head. "Very likely. I believe he was already over 180 centimeters when he was fifteen, and had been training Noctis for several years. I'm not sure if he's grown more or less intimidating over time, really. I suppose it depends on how people respond to giant tattoos and an allergy to shirts."
When in doubt, throw some shade on your bros.
A soft hum of thought, and he carefully starts moving again, mentally reminding himself. Looking for Noctis, Gladio, or maybe a place for some coffee. "I'm willing to bet it's not something we'll discover by sitting about and hypothesizing, sadly. If we're here, it's likely for some sort of reason. We just have to discover what that means."
A few more steps, and he changes a glance over to Prompto. "In.. relation to the situation you mentioned being in before," you know, being 'alone in Gralea' and everything unspoken that goes with that. "...Have you eaten recently? We could look for something in that respect as well. After all, it doesn't seem as though we're in immediate danger or have to rush at the moment."
no subject
He wishes he had known the guys since way before he had met them.
"Yeah. First, we'll find a shirt for Gladio, and then we can see what our options are."
He does not expect, however, for Ignis to turn the conversation and concern back on him. It catches him a little off guard, and Prompto gapes for a moment. The question he expected was not one about eating--and, thinking about it, he feels pretty damn hungry.
"Could we? I'm moderately starving, to be honest," he laughs sheepishly, skipping the rest of the steps to walk at Ignis's side. "It'd be nice to taste your cooking again, but I'll be okay with a sandwich!"
no subject
"I doubt any place here would be amenable to my taking over their kitchen, but I'm certain we could find something that would suffice. That would also give us a good place to sit down and finalize a plan of action." Without the distraction of constant new environments, without having to walk and look and spiral around unanswerable questions.
As for the shirt for Gladio... well, given the sheer number of clothing stores available, they could do that at any time.
He pauses at the large directory stationed in the middle of a crossways-- finally, some sory of map-- and wastes no time in pulling out his phone to take a picture of it, before frowning softly.
"I suppose it was a bit much to expect there would be any service here.... Ah well." A shrug, and he glances at the map long enough to determine where food would be, gesturing down one of the halls. "They seem to have a number of establishments here to choose from. I'm just not sure if they'll accept Gil."
no subject
"Can we add phone chargers to the list?"
He pockets it again, standing a bit behind Ignis and peering over his arm to look at the picture he took (even if he could, in theory, glance at the directory right in front of him). He notices a store that could potentially sell electronics and accessories, and then he scans about for a store.
In quiet monotone and with little inflection to show that this may be a joke, he says, "When push comes to shove, I think we could borrow supplies."
He's implying exactly what he's implying.
no subject
"Yes, we can look for phone chargers," He'll make a 'Prompto's Needs column all on its own, and put a phone charger under there, as well as 'shirt for Gladio (?)' "Is there anything else you think you'll need immediately?" Because if he's writing it down, he might as well write it all down at once, as well as his own notes on ideas to keep in mind and explore.
Of course finding Noctis is his main priority- and Gladiolus as well. And after that, it's mainly securing a way for them all to continue to survive here. They've been dumped gracelessly into situations with no resources before, it shouldn't be too terrible. And as they go, they can focus on discovering where they are and why and how to return home. Nothing they haven't dealt with before. And thinking about it in that fashion really does remove some of the stress and anxiety that comes from it.
He does glance up at Prompto's suggestion, lifting a brow. "...So you mean that rather than offer to reimburse the individuals through labor or find another way of securing funds, as we did before, you would rather commandeer goods in the name of the Crown."
lightly shoves Prompto's shoulder, lips quirking up in something of an amused smile. "I believe that would be the beginnings of despotism, Prompto."
no subject
"We're trying our best! And no one can take away our good intentions."
He can't help being enthusiastic.
"Maybe we should also try and check out like newspapers or something, to get a lay of the land?"
no subject
"I'd also tried asking some of the people employed here, though the results were... mixed, at best." Very quickly brushed off, the people giving limited responses, coming across as either a poorly programmed robot emulating humanity, or someone who was drugged or and seemingly only focused on their work. Which... really, was a trifle troubling, but at the time he'd had more immediate concerns-- and then been quickly diverted from it with Prompto's arrival.
"If they have any news networks, or any media in general, that would be a good start. And I'm certain any sort of computer store would have an internet connection of some kind. We can look for it while on the hunt for a phone charger."
A full to-do list suits him fine, to be honest. They can work out the details while eating something. Coming up on the food court, he trades the notebook for a sleek black wallet, fishing out both a few gil notes and a metal black matte card, handing them out to Prompto. "I assume I can trust you to find us something decent to eat, while I look for some coffee? I'm sure we have some sort of currency they'll accept." That, or the strange vacant-eyed workers just won't insist on payment at all.
but look mom's offering you the company credit card just fucking take itno subject
"Wow..."
He's barely hearing what Ignis is saying, before looking up and nodding. It can't be that hard, right? Using a credit card. The royal credit card.
"Yeah! I'll see what I can find!"
Double checking with Ignis on meeting again at this exact spot, Prompto bounces on his feet after checking the directory and pinpointing where the food court is. It might be problematic, perhaps, to separate after meeting so soon thereafter, but Prompto realizes that this is a quick way of splitting their efforts into looking for both Noctis and Gladiolus. Turns out, Prompto doesn't have much luck on doing that, but he returns after about twenty minutes with what look like heavy paper bags.
"Iggy! I got some stuff!"
A lot of stuff.
no subject
They're already going through a lot. They can have moments like this every so often to keep spirits and morale high.
By the time Prompto's returned, he's found a whole lot of nothing (All the news stands are empty, showing little 'Sold out!' or 'Please Re-order!' in lieu of any actual print,) but he managed to get a drink someplace, slowly nursing the paper cup of coffee. It's not his preferred blend, of course, but he's slowly trying to accept the fact that it might not even exist here. Gods know nothing else he's familiar with does so far.
He looks up as Prompto calls out, setting down the one bit of information he'd been able to find-- even if it's nothing more than a flyer to some event in the movie theatre, with the dates carefully smudged out.
"That's-- How much did you get?" Really, Prompto, they don't have a fridge to stock. He sits up a bit straighter from the greasy table he'd sat down at while waiting, head tilting as he looks over. "I suppose we won't be left wanting...."
Annnnd he's already holding out his hand to take his card back. You did okay so far, Prompto, you might have earned more trust.
no subject
He's setting the bags down on the table and looking in his vest pocket for the card, handing it back to Ignis. Not a single scratch on it. He did well!
"I think Nate thought I was a little too hungry? Y'know, the guy at the counter. Nathan. Anyway, I paid with the gil notes you gave me."
Opening the bags, he pulls out boxes of McD's filled with chicken, burgers, apple slices in a container. "I got a premium coffee roast for you..." pulling out the cup from within the bag, he also pulls out a water bottle.
"Do you wanna try it? --did you know that they have Ebony in Niflheim?"
no subject
He takes the card back, tucking it away and wrinkling his nose as Prompto starts laying out the number of small wrapped sandwiches, fries, an eerily-smiling box... then again, it wasn't as though he was expecting gourmet fare. Nut-- hey, more coffee.
"Thank you, Prompto. I appreciate the thought." And he will certainly drink a second, that is not even a question. He takes the cup closer to himself, as well as one of the sandwiches. It get set to one side, while he sets his notebook to his other hand, marking notes off on the page he had started earlier. He really is happier while keeping track of things and marking off goal progression, even if it's something as basic as 'get lunch' or, back home, 'give Sonia her frogs so they stop being so noisy in the boot'.
"And I was unaware that it was an international brand. I suppose I should have known that even the Empire could have a taste for good coffee." There's a short pause as he tries some of the coffee Prompto had brought him, before nodding his approval to it. "I take it you discovered this while there recently?" It's the beginning of an opening to talk about it, so he'll take it. "If I may ask... in your time, how long have you- we?- been in Niflheim?"
no subject
"Don't mention it," he intones at the same time he takes a chug of air, setting the bottle down and immediately heading for the chicken. "I'm guessing this is supposed to be like chickatrice? Looks similar enough..." He studies it a moment before biting down. It clearly tastes good, if the widening of his eyes in surprise is anything to go by.
He lets Ignis keep talking, humming or grunting at his words. "Nate didn't say much, by the way. Kinda ignored my lost tourist questions."
Greasy fingers collect some of the napkins, trying to clean up. It's a moot action, really, for he's happy to indulge in the chicken drumstick again, even if Ignis's attempt to open room for a conversation makes him pause.
"...dunno how long, honestly," at least, Prompto relents some information from wild, anxiety-ridden clutches. The warmness in Ignis's presence might have something to do with it, too. "It felt like days, but -- it's honestly all jumbled up in m'head to tell. Can't really answer if you guys made it there, either."
no subject
He's not aware of his grip tightening on the cup of coffee until his fingertips lightly crease the cup, and he relents. Prompto doesn't deserve anything the Empire could have done to him. That's a fate he and Gladiolus may have been prepared for-- but Prompto?
"...I see. Well, they can't keep you hidden from us too terribly long-- especially since you are now here." A pause, and he looked down at the greasy paper bags. "But even if that weren't the case, I don't think the Infernian himself could keep Noctis from dropping everything to steal you back." His lips curl into a wry smile-- even if he knows it's not the choice he might make, there was often very little able to dissuade their Prince.
"For instance- consider the lengths he went to just to appease Gladiolus's ridiculous love of those damned noodles. He has ten times the ferocity when it comes to the protection of his friends." A pause, and he finally takes one of the wrapped sandwiches himself, carefully peeling back the wax paper as though it might leap out and bite him. "...You especially, since you're the friend he chose."
no subject
"...yeah," he speaks up softly, then lowers his head to bite down on the chicken, again. Chewing slowly, he seems to remember how thirsty he is, and picks up the water bottle to quench his thirst instead. "Noct's kind of an all-out guy."
Except-- Noctis's hurtful words, warping towards him and knocking him off the train. His mind supplies that it was somehow Ardyn's doing, but Prompto still can't help thinking there's some truth in it. He shakes his head and drinks some more water. It doesn't help when he stops to consider the truth about his origins, how even though he might feel okay with it, now (after tons of explosions, attempting to burn off his tattoo, and heartfelt conversations with Aranea), there's no telling how Noct will react. How -- Ignis will react.
Prompto has never been good at keeping his emotions hidden--not when he's not consciously thinking about it. His face falls, brow pinching and lips tightening into a thin line like any time he's decidedly clamping up, biting at the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from having an emotional outburst.
"That's--gotta count for somethin', right...?
no subject
"Indeed he is."
He's not sure what's troubling Prompto... but clearly something is. He'd almost forgotten how demonstrative Prompto is with his emotions, everything showing up as clearly as if it were actually written across his forehead. The taut pull at his expression and features, and for a moment, Ignis wonders if he had inadvertently shoved his own boot into his mouth. After all, he has no idea what Prompto's situation was before arriving, or what had lead to it. What his last impression was upon seeing the group, how he had been treated whilst a captive of Niflheim.
He can't help but worry it might have been himself calling for Noct to 'leave him'. It.... isn't outside the realm of expectation, after all. But then again, all this worry and concern seems more in regards to discussion of Noctis than about Ignis's own presence. So...
Really, its anyone's guess and impossible and useless to speculate on.
He leans in closer, reaching across to table to put a hand on Prompto's arm. Physical contact was reassuring, right? "Prompto, I assure you, it counts for everything. Noctis has never been known to willingly let go of what he considers his."
no subject
He looks up, his features relaxing despite himself, and he nods at Ignis's words.
"Yeah, I know," and it's true. They're friends--best friends, a friendship that was built outside of obligation, instead found in common comfort and true comradeship that both of them had so painfully yearned for.
He feels somewhat uncomfortable under the scrutiny however, and so he raises his face towards the other, his left temple tilted downwards--hiding at the bruises he hasn't seen but knows are there, the cut he hasn't seen but which stings and throbs regardless.
"Don't worry about me, Iggy. When we find Noct--and Gladio, it'll all be cleared up. I'd rather just talk about it once, if it's okay."
He ends kind of sheepishly, biting at the chicken he had put down in favor for emotional outburst.