nysalogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Alisaie Leveilleur (

adelphoi) & Prompto Argentum (

punshots)
What: Blinded with science pt. 2!
When: nowish
Where: The Institute in Olympia
Warning(s): None yet? Some disturbing ideas probably, given the quest..

[ alisaie had hoped to never find herself back in this awful place again, and yet here they are - she cannot very well pass up an attempt to shine a light on whatever myriad horrifying things evras is up to, even if it means sticking out her neck, or uncovering anything.. unsavory. what they found last time was unnerving, and this time they have been asked to go even deeper still, to dig right into the heart of this place, but honestly, she worries more for prompto than for herself. what they found last time had been.. upsetting to him, and no doubt they will find more evidence still.

but he's strong, and he's made his choice; if he were not able to handle the possibility of what they might face here, he would not have come. he's come a long way. she trusts him to get the job done.

they slip in the same way they did the last time, all those moons ago, and it is easier still with only the two of them, they are able to move quickly and reach the archives twice as fast. but it is here that they part ways; it will be far easier to cover more ground if they split off momentarily. alisaie touches his elbow, speaking quietly, ducked behind a row of filing cabinets. ]

I shall take the west, and you the east - whoever finishes their sweep first will seek out the other. No more than an hour.

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[ The third archivist still does not make himself known, and Prompto has no choice but to begin prowling around the room, seeking him out and hoping he can get a jump on the other before he himself can get attacked. His gun remains in hand, the sight trained in front of him, as he stays low, turning corners around tables and benches and equipment, still listening, listening...

And then he catches it, a slight crunch of glass beneath a boot, and not a moment too soon, really. It's getting really hard to breathe through his nose. Prompto springs around a long silver bench where the archivist hides on the other side, finger threading the trigger and —

All at once, all of the air goes out of him, like an invisible hand has reached inside his lung and squeezed them empty. His gun clatters to the floor as he sinks to his knees, clawing at his neck in some vain attempt to release the invisible fingers there, but it doesn't help. He can't breathe.

Helpless as he struggles for air, the archivist steps towards him, a cool, wicked smile upon his face, as he reaches for Prompto's gun. ]

[ by the time alisaie is reaching his wing of the archives, alisaie is glad that she has made haste - something is wrong, wrong and getting worse. she can feel a tightness in her throat, a burning in her lungs, and it's a good thing that prompto knocked out the two archivists along the way because alisaie abandons any semblance of subtlety and sprints through the dimness, around shelves, following the heat of her ring as she grows closer to him.

the archivist does not see her coming. verthunder arcs from her focus, black and thorny and hissing through the air, catching him hard in the back, prompto's gun dropping from his hand.

but that is not enough - without missing a beat, alisaie follows up with a powerful, brutal verflare, a searing explosion of fire and shadow that consumes the archivist where he stands. he drops to his knees and then, with a shuddering exhale, collapses onto his back, and alisaie rushes forward, dropping to her knees, both hands reaching for prompto's face. ]

Prompto--

[ Prompto can pinpoint the exact moment the archivist dies, as the air immediately flies back into his lungs with a shuddering gasp, the invisible hand pulling away from his throat. Stars swim in his vision as he coughs, coughs, his body still desperate for oxygen, as Alisaie drops down to take hold of him. In spite of himself, a smile breaks over his face at the feeling of her warm fingers on his cold skin. ]

I-I-I'm - [ But he chokes back the forthcoming apology. He knows she won't want to hear it, so he doesn't offer it.

Instead, he drops his face against her touch, nuzzling into her palm, inhaling and exhaling hard. ]

Y-you - you saved - m-me - you're always - saving my s-sorry ass...

[ There's a lightheartedness to his words, but it's...true, for both better and for worse. How many times has Alisaie had to bail him out of danger now? How many times has he been incapable of taking care of himself? ]

[ oh thank the gods he's all right - though he's fighting for air, alisaie cannot help but draw him close, pressing her mouth to his brow in a hard kiss, and inhaling the scent of his hair through his knit cap. ]

There are far better talents in this world than being easily able to destroy your fellow man.

[ she says in a way that brooks no argument. no, prompto may not be as skilled in battle as she is, but is that really such a terrible thing? so she's better at murder than he is. that's hardly something to be terribly proud of. growing up beside a brother so intelligent and popular as alphinaud, alisaie had struggled with
feelings of inadequacy for a very long time, so she knows how he feels, and why he feels it, but she had also learned that not everyone's talents lie in the same areas. prompto absolutely outshines her in his own ways.

ways she should be more than glad to remind him of, once they are out of this place. for now, there's no real time to waste with conversations that can take place later. drawing back, she lifts his face between her hands to look into his eyes, and take the measure of his awareness. ]

Can you walk?

[ Distantly, he knows she's right, perhaps, and regardless, this is not the time or place to be having this conversation. If it even needs to be a conversation. She makes her position perfectly clear, even if he can't really agree with it. It's not about talents. It's about the fact that he keeps almost dying and she's the one who stick her neck out to save him. He should be better than this, but he keeps slipping up.

But the job is not yet done, and that is the imperative thing. Nodding, he allows himself only a moment to tug her close, winding his arms around her and burying his face against her neck before drawing back and up to his feet. ]

J-just need to - c-catch my breath. [ He smiles weakly, before he shambles towards the archivists' workstations to retrieve their keycards. ]

[ it might need revisiting, but alisaie had long since sworn to remind him of his worth, however much and however often he might need. he may have come a long way, but he has further yet to go. they both do. if she must needs beat his self-esteem into him, she will.

but not right now. prompto stands, and alisaie stands with him, gathering up her rapier and focus again and slinging them back into place on her hips, though still ever at the ready to draw them again if need be. but so far there are no impending footsteps, no sounds of an alarm raised or any hint that their intrusion has been noticed. thankfully it is late enough in the night that there is little more than a skeleton crew here, so as long as they do not dawdle overlong, alisaie is not too worried that they will be found, now that their opposition has been attended to.

while prompto works on gathering the cards, alisaie moves toward the door that will require them, waiting for him to finish his work. ]

[ It seems the technicians were not expecting to be ambushed as they were, because Prompto locates the keycards without too much difficulty from their unattended workstations. At least he had taken them by surprise, even if his plan wasn't entirely foolproof.

With cards in hand, he moves quickly over to the locked door and uses the keycards to unlock it. ]

...Okay. This is it! What they sent me here for...

[ The door clicks open, revealing...

A room with a computer? That's...peculiar. ]

[ alisaie has had plenty of run ins with both allagan and garlean technology, so it's not as if she doesn't know what a computer is - but to know how to work one? that's an entirely different story. she'll leave this to prompto, she did her job, the stabbing thing. that's what she's good at.

anyway, she's careful to shut the door quietly behind them before meandering closer. ]

I suppose whatever you are seeking is on that.. thing, then?

[ Still a bit numb from the events in the previous room, it takes Prompto a moment longer than it should to answer Alisaie, but as he shuffles through the flies next to the desk, he nods slowly. ]

Must be, right? Let's see what we got here...

[ He wakes up the computer, surprised to find no password blocking his entry, but then again, this is pretty advanced technology for this place, anyway. Maybe Evras assumed the three archivists and their keycards would be protection enough.

Evidently, he was wrong, and though after a few moments Prompto doesn't find anything of note on the computer itself, after a quick search he finds the USB stick in desk drawer and plugs it into the computer. The video files begin to play immediately, and it's evident from the first few seconds that this is not going to be pleasant. Prompto has never met S-8, but he remembers hearing about him and his involvement with the plague — and, of course, that he was an android. He had been built by Evras, too?

As Prompto watches the recordings unfold, his grip on the back of the chair tightens, his jaw tense and set. This...this is...

It's horrible. ]

[ at first, she leaves prompto to it. this is his task, after all, and she can use the interim to poke around a bit and see what else she can't uncover, but there's not much to be found in the immediate area, and she does not want to wander too far, lest more archivists arrive, or prompto has need of her.

but soon enough the tension she can see in his body from the corner of her eye becomes all too clear. ]

Prompto?

[ she cannot see the screen from where she stands, and the voices are distant, but nevertheless she draws up to his side, slipping a hand up his arm, to the back of his shoulder, her face tight with concern. ]

[ He jumps lightly at her touch, so absorbed in what he's seeing on the screen that he nearly forgets where he is, or that someone was by his side. Immediately, however, his gaze flickers to her, anxious and pale, as he searches for the words to put what he's seeing into. ]

It's...Evras, he... [ He swallows thickly as the footage of the training scenario cuts out and the recording of Cree begins. How had he not made the connection before? Of course Evras would have made S-8, given what kind of experiments are going on in this lab. And yet he hadn't put it together before now. And the things Evras had done to him, treating him like he was nothing, just a machine...

Well, it hits a little close to home. ]

That...S-8. The one who was involved with the plague. [ A fun subject for all, he knows. ] Evras...made him. And he treated him like, like...

[ She can probably piece it together pretty well. Like how he would have been treated if he'd grown into what he was meant to be. ]

[ it doesn't take her long at all to piece it together, between prompto's explanation and what she now sees on the screen before them, and she knows immediately what the problem is. anger boils in her blood, though more for prompto than for anything else, and her hand on his arm moves to his back, rubbing gently. ]

I see.

[ but she forces herself to keep on track - the sooner they finish this the better, for the sake of the mission, and for prompto. ]

Come, darling. We will take it to Cree.

[ Even after the recording finishes, it continues to pull at his heart in uncomfortable, painful ways, and were Alisaie not at his side, Prompto would need more time to find the courage to leave this place, to move forward with the knowledge he has just acquired. They need to go, and dawdling here will not do them any favors if more archivists show up.

So with a heavy sigh, Prompto pockets the USB and steps away from the computer. However, before he starts for the door, he dips down to find her mouth with his own, an ardent, desperate kiss that conveys more than his words can about how much he appreciates her, how grateful he is for her and the fact that she is here with him at all. It doesn't linger, because he cannot linger here, but it is warm and deep and needy, and when he draws back, finding her hand, it feels far too soon. ]

Yeah. Let's get the hell out of here.

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