[CLOSED] Now I know I got to play my hand. What the winner don't know, a gambler understands.

[beatupgrass]

Who: Rocket (beatupgrass) & various others
What: A series of closed prompts for stuff Rocket is up to this month.
When: From September 1st to September 13th
Where: Various places.
Warning(s): Some vaguely alluded to cybernetic surgery. Will update as needed



[PROMPTS BELOW.]

Comments

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket freezes, ears flattening against his head in a cringe.] Crap.

[He doesn't turn to face Prompto, because he's a terrible liar and if he looks at him, he'll see the anxiety in his eyes... Not that having his back to him helps any. He's all hunched shoulders and tension right now.]

I just... Don't like his type. I got bad experiences with people like him.

[punshots]

[ So...that wasn't something that was meant for him to hear. It prickles at his nerves, because for as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, it sounds like Rocket might be planning to do something quite illegal, if it involves messing with someone like Evras.

There's a long, thoughtful pause before he speaks up, weighing whether he should even say something at all. Prompto can't see Rocket's face, but he can see his posture, and hear his voice, and he's well versed in reading both.

People like him... ]

You mean, mad scientist types?

[ Now it's not just Rocket that's sounding tense and uncomfortable. ]

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket flinches so hard that his swishing tail actually bristles to become more bottlebrush like. He doesn't miss the tension in Prompto's voice, but he doesn't necessarily associate it to a mutual understanding. After all, Prompto looks human and doesn't seem to be a freak- it's easy for him with his very obvious augmentations to assume that anything anyone else feels when faced with the idea of mad science is just sympathy or disdain.]

Oh he gave you that impression too? [His voice is laced with sarcasm.] I don't look like this 'cause I thought it'd be cool, kid.

[punshots]

[ I don't look like this 'cause I thought it'd be cool, kid.

Prompto's eyes widen as that clicks into place - the real meaning behind those words. He'd assumed Rocket was just from a world where walking, talking raccoons was the norm. From the breadth of worlds this place seems to have pulled from, it was hardly a stretch. He hadn't stopped to consider that maybe Rocket wasn't born this way, but it makes sense. So much sense. The way he'd behaved the entire time they were institute, his reasons for going in there, why he might want to exact some kind of payback.

This is the part where Rocket might expect him to brush it off. To tell him that whatever happened to him, Evras wasn't responsible for that. To warn him against doing anything reckless.

Instead, he fiddles nervously with a band on his right wrist, glancing anxiously at the Institute and then back to Rocket. ]

- Right. You think he's...[ He swallows. ] Uh. Doing that sort of thing here?

[beatupgrass]

Oh I know he is. Maybe not like this. [He gestures to himself.] But at least something like it. He told me.

[He bristles further.] I contacted him for a job to see if I could read 'em a little bit without givin' away my identity, and asked him how he felt about animal experimentation. He said it was one of his specialties.

[punshots]

[ One of his specialties. No wonder Rocket doesn't like the guy. And maybe it's not human experimentation, but...it's not that far off, is it? And if animal experimentation led to creatures like Rocket, who were sentient individuals in their own right, then it's just as bad as humans would be. And that -

That hits a little too close to home for comfort. ]

That's...terrible. [ And then a beat, before he adds, glancing away: ] If you, uh...decide to give him hell...well, uh, this isn't my district, anyway.

[ Rocket doesn't have to worry about Prompto ratting him out. ]

[beatupgrass]

No shit. [Rocket eyes him, trying to see if he's making a play here, but Prompto's too... simple for that shit. And honest. Mostly that one. If he's willing to not do the ~right~ thing then he probably believes in what he's doing.]

We'll see how it goes. As much as I'd love to put the bastard outta my misery, I don't wanna cause a scene I can't get away from. But if he were to, y'know, hunt me down or something... I know what I gotta do to get out.

[So there's about as much of a confession as he's willing to give for why he needed all of this.]

[punshots]

[ By now, Prompto's nervous energy is palpable. He's bouncing on his heels, like he's ready to make a break for it at a moment's notice. ]

Right. I can, uh - [ He glances at Rocket again, though he still is acting cagey as hell. ] Try to cover your tracks, if anything comes up.

[ But hopefully it doesn't come to that. Or maybe hopefully it does. Gods, this just got a whole lot more complicated. ]

[beatupgrass]

[Okay, now that he can't handle. Rocket's ears flatten a bit and he scowls. He still isn't expecting the worst of Prompto's situation, but he does feel like maybe he said too much and the kid's all conflicted.] Will you frickin' relax? You already fulfilled your end of the bargain. I don't need you to keep stickin' your neck out for me if you're gonna get all fidgety about it.

[punshots]

[ The outburst catches him off-guard, and Prompto meets Rocket with a look of utter surprise. ]

- Huh? [ Oh, he hadn't meant - oh.

That fidgeting only ticks up another level, and now, Prompto can't even meet Rocket's eyes as he answers. ]

This one is, uh...pro bono. Not because I owe you, or anything. [ He swallows. ] That shit just doesn't...jive with me, man.

[ To say the freaking least. ]

[beatupgrass]

It shouldn't jive with anybody. [He hasn't backed down, but his expression is more suspicious now. He could walk away. He really could. But now he wants to know if Prompto has more of a vested interest in this.]

[punshots]

I...

[ It's not just that he doesn't wantto talk about it. It's that he doesn't talk about it, period. But learning what he has about Rocket has put him in a situation he's...never really been in before. As crazy as it sounds, Rocket is the first person he's ever met who's...like him.

Created in a lab, forged by men who would play god to achieve their own ends. A thing unintended to grow into a person, but, well. Here they are. ]

Look - can we just drop it, man? I - this all just...

[ An exasperated sigh. ]

Hits a little...close to home.

[ Literally. ]

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket's suspicion slowly ebbs away, leaving him looking at Prompto in what might be a new light- it's a bit more understanding, a whole lot more confused. He's way more functional than someone like Rocket has any right to be.

But hey, everyone's got their own ways to cope, good or bad.

He lifts a hand to his ear and scratches, awkwardly.] All right, all right. Forget I said anything. And, uh, maybe this works out for both of us, I guess.

[punshots]

[ Obvious relief writes its way onto Prompto's features as Rocket backs off. He's got to...think about this more. He didn't expect to have this particular thing in common with Rocket, of all people, if he ever expected to have it in common with anyone at all. It's not the sort of origin he'd wish on his worst enemy.

So instead he nods nervously, gaze distant like he's still lost in all the thoughts in his head. ]

Y-yeah, it...just might. [ He starts to shuffle back. ] Anyway, I should...probably get going. You know. Work and...stuff.

[ And stuff. ]