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Who: Alisaie Leveilleur (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
adelphoi) & you nerds
What: October general shenans
When: All month
Where: Everywhere potentially but probably just at her house mostly
Warning(s): Sick.. stuff?? idk probably nothing but will update if necessary.
PART 1;
a; aftermath
b; sickbed;
c; reaching out
PART 2;
a; wandering
b; friendly fire
[ catchall for october! alisaie will spent much of it being sick, apparently, so feel free to crash her place and visit.. make sure she stays in bed. get her texts or send her one, or meet up in the market!! if none of these prompts work for you i'm more than happy to work something out and write up a starter. ♥ plotting comment is here, or i can be reached on plurk for planning. i'm game! ]
adelphoi) & you nerdsWhat: October general shenans
When: All month
Where: Everywhere potentially but probably just at her house mostly
Warning(s): Sick.. stuff?? idk probably nothing but will update if necessary.
PART 1;
a; aftermath
[ alisaie is not present in the marketplace when the attack occurs, but the resounding boom cannot be missed, even from her home flat. it's a hectic hour or so while she rushes to figure out what has happened, and when riza returns home sick she feels a heavy misgiving sink deep into her stomach. disease is not an enemy she can fight with her rapier, it's something insidious, something sneaky and unpredictable - gods help them find a remedy soon.
immediately, she's dashing right to work. with riza ill they'll need supplies - healthy foods, spare blankets, medicinal herbs, ice, a great deal of ice. once she's set with her list she's off to the institute and markets to gather what useful things she can, stuffing them into a canvas shoulder bag, but you can certainly bet that she'll stop to assist in any way she can, whether it's righting an overturned cart or leading those who were injured in the panic to the sanctuary.
of course, it's not long before she's feeling rather warm and dizzy herself and, of course, chalking it up to the rush and mayhem. maybe she'll just.. sit down a moment. ]
b; sickbed;
[ alisaie is an awful patient.
keeping her in bed is no easy task, and there's an itch under her skin that urges her to move, to work - there's so much she could be doing, ways she could be helping. this disease is a godsdamned prison.
she's responsible enough to at least not mingle with the public, lest she spread this horrible mystery illness further, but she cannot remain strictly indoors in bed for so long, not without losing her mind. so when she can, when the weather is tepid, alisaie sits on the second floor deck of her flat, wrapped up in a blanket, usually with a book (or stack of books), enjoying the fresh air on her too-hot face. ]
c; reaching out
[ what else can you do when you're more or less bedbound? catch up on the internet, of course. mostly, alisaie keeps an eye on the network for any updates, and takes the time to reach out to those she knows, to doublecheck that they're safe. if you've met her even once or twice, chances are she will toss a line out and test the waters. incoming message from RedMage: ]
This is Alisaie; how are you faring?
PART 2;
a; wandering
[ it's late evening the first time she sees him.
though first she hears him, the familiar voice of her grandfather calling her out of her dreams, warm and welcoming. she wakes in her bed, slick with fever sweat and surrounded by silence - mayhaps she had misheard it? it must have been a dream, her head is spinning. but then it comes again, distinct and clear; it has been years since she last heard his voice but it is not a sound that she would ever forget. ]
Grandfather..?
[ dizzy and disoriented, she climbs out of bed and stumbles toward the open window, squinting into the slanting light of sunset just in time to see the shape of him, louisoix leveilleur's all too familiar form disappearing around the corner. immediately her heart kicks up into her throat and alisaie gasps and turns, stumbling back through her bedroom and out of the house, down the stairs and onto the street barefoot, in her nightdress, to follow a ghost. ]
No, please wait.. don't leave me again..
[ how long she wanders in this delirium she cannot say, but her feet are sore and scratched and muddy, her hair down and wild from sleep and the tugging winds. she may run right into you, or trip over a flagstone, but short of forceful intervention nothing will keep her from her goal. ]
b; friendly fire
[ for those of you unlucky enough to visit her (or stop by her home for some other purpose) while the symptoms continue to worsen, you will find that her delirium has not abated. between bouts of lucidity and sleep she tries still to wander, to follow the voices and phantoms of her family and friends to whatever oblivion they might call her to, but it is not only friends she sees. sometimes it is enemies or horrible, twisted monsters. it's hardly a problem if she wanders outside, weaponless, but any creak of sound within her home would easily alert her.
blinking blearily, alisaie tumbles out of bed at the noise, her heart thudding and her mind cloudy, and she does not think twice before taking up her rapier and focus which lie across a chair in her room and stumbling into the dimly lit common area. her voice is rough from coughing. ]
Who.. who goes there?
[ catchall for october! alisaie will spent much of it being sick, apparently, so feel free to crash her place and visit.. make sure she stays in bed. get her texts or send her one, or meet up in the market!! if none of these prompts work for you i'm more than happy to work something out and write up a starter. ♥ plotting comment is here, or i can be reached on plurk for planning. i'm game! ]
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at least he's stepping into the room, which is a little closer than hovering awkwardly in the doorway as if there's nowhere he belongs. prompto is just about the only comfort she has at the moment, and while her heart still battles with her mind over the idea of sending him away for his own good, she still feels a gentle relief once he's closer.
scooting back onto the bed, alisaie turns her face to cough into the elbow of her sleeve, the sound rattling and rough enough to make her eyes water. after, she's drawing up her legs and pulling the covers up high against the fever chills. ]
That's - a good idea.
[ with a weary smile - he sure does know the quickest ways to her heart. ]
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- No, he can't let himself get wrapped up in thoughts like that, for both of their sakes. He can only imagine how she must be feeling right now, homebound, unable to do anything to help the situation by the very virtue of the fact that she is sick. He doesn't need to make that any worse by posing any what-if's to her. They'll - they'll figure this out.
It'll be okay.
He scans the shelf, making a show of looking very thoughtful as he does so. ]
Okay, so...got any recommendations? I'm a sucker for swashbuckling adventure, gotta say.
[ OR ARE THESE ALL NERDY HISTORY BOOKS OR SOMETHING ]
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for how exhausted she looks, she's still smiling as she settles down against the mattress, turned onto her side so she can watch while he peruses the shelf. it's silly, maybe, but it's a nice image, mundane and simple and domestic in a way that warms her heart. maybe it's just that she's glad to see him after such a harrowing day, that his very presence is a welcome relief, she can't say for sure but nevertheless, no matter how miserable she might feel physically, already she is feeling better simply because he is here.
but she's not going to say that, because it's hideously sappy, so you'll just have to read it yourself, prompto, in her soft smile. ]
Well I'm sorry to be the one to tell you that there isn't much fiction over there.
[ because yeah, don't let the sass and sword fool you she comes from a long line of prestigious nerds. ]
I think there may be a volume of folk tales, though.
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But that's okay, maybe he can pick something up later when he comes back. Sure, because...he can find time to go to the book store, in between everything else. There's no question he'll be over plenty, though - at least visiting at the door, if she doesn't want to let him in and risk getting him ill. He'll respect whatever she chooses, but...
Well. It's not like he has much going on at his place.
He runs his finger across the spines of the books until he pulls the book of folk tales off the shelf. ]
Man, I can't remember the last time I looked at a book like this. [ He opens it, flipping through the pages before perching gingerly on the end of her bed. ] Remind me to bring over some comic books to keep you busy.
[ ok, they're both nerds ]
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"Comic book"?
[ yeah she's never heard of that, sounds fake. once prompto's sitting, she curls her legs up a bit to give him room and he's closer now but it still feels.. strange. since that first kiss prompto hasn't really kept his distance - quite the opposite, if we're honest here. ]
You should read more often, you know.
[ this is her sickly chastising voice ]
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Still flipping through the pages, he tosses her a wry smile. ]
I-I read! Comic books involve reading...with lots of pictures! [ Even still, it's not like he's done much of that since he'd left Insomnia, half a lifetime ago. ]
Maybe...we could find a book to read together.
[ Folk tales were all well and good, but depending on how long this last, maybe they'd need something more. And...it sounds nice, doesn't it? The two of them reading together, to each other, something to draw their attention away from everything going on outside this room. ]
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but his suggestion brings a smile to her face, and she gazes at him fondly from beneath heavy lids. ]
.. I'd like that very much.
[ what a nice thought, tucking up against him, sharing a book - that's more or less her romantic dream. that, and murdering monsters together, probably. both are good. only one is marginally feasible at the moment, however. ]
If you find a book that interests you, we can share it.
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Would you? [ He would have guessed as much, but it's still nicer to have her confirm it than him just assuming like the hopeless romantic he is. Hopefully - hopefully - there will be a cure tomorrow, and they won't even need a book to pass the time while she's sick.
But...if that's not the case, they have a plan. ]
I'll take a look around then. [ He'll find time. Make time. ] For now, how about...
[ He skims the page he's landed on. ]
...Man...these're kind of gruesome!
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but of course she would, she doesn't even have to answer that. just thinking about falling asleep to the sound of his voice, leaning into him, is making her sleepy. not that she hasn't been sleepy pretty much all day. ]
Oh good, find a particularly juicy one.
[ give her blood, prompto. ]
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He bites his lower lip and he reads into the tale he's landed on a bit. Wow. This is - sure something. If she wants blood, this is the one??? ]
This one's got people impaling themselves on...on spikes. How does that sound?
[ This is romantic. Hopefully he can make it through without being the one to pass out. ]
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It sounds exciting.
[ but he doesn't look terribly enamored by the idea. slowly, a coy smile tugs at her mouth; are you looking a little green around the gills there, prompto? he's such a soft boy. ]
.. feel free to choose another, if it's too bold for you.
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H-huh? No! No way. Please. I can handle this...
[ He's just exercising an understandable level of concern about a weird, spooky story. Before she can tease him again for being a scaredy-cat, he pulls his legs up onto the bed and turns, so he's sitting cross-legged across from her.
He clears his throat dramatically. The story is about to begin! ]
Just remember - you asked for this. [ And then, in his best story-teller voice: ] There once was a man who had three daughters who were all married to trolls. He went to visit one daughter, and she wished for - beef broth? Okay - for the meal, and asked her father to go get some. Instead, her troll husband simply rammed his head into a spike in the wall [ because that makes sense ] and soon they had broth enough to eat. The troll even gave him a sack full of money and sent him on his way. The man left the sack lying on the ground, because he wished to hurry home to see if his pregnant cow had yet given birth.
[ He glances up at her, expectantly. Should he keep going? IT'S PRETTY WEIRD... ]
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there's a shine in her eyes once he prepares to begin, though - it's been a long time since anyone has read to her, and it's nice. with this fever it's difficult for her to concentrate on small, cramped words on a page so it's nice to experience this again; it's like living in an old memory. louisoix used to read to her all the time when she was young, and she and alphinaud had read to each other plenty of times, so this is very enjoyable.
wow this story is weird, though. she doesn't seem perturbed, however, only a little thoughtful. ]
Mm, go on.
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If he notices the shining in her eyes, he makes no sign of it, his gaze flickering between the page and her face to read her reactions as he goes. He'll focus on the story for now, as much as the reflective light in her eyes makes him want to gather her up in his arms and burrow close while he reads to her.
It sounds so nice, doesn't it?
The story, however, uh, less so. He goes on: ]
So...his wife told him the cow had not, and went back with him to get the money, but it had beentaken by a thief, and she was quite upset with him. He told her he had learned his lesson, though, and that the money wasn’t important. Next, he went to visit another one of his daughters, and they needed light to see. The troll said candles were unnecessary and simply stuck his hand in the fire, giving them all the light they needed. This troll gave him two bags of money, and he lost them the same way as the first. His wife was frustrated, but once again he said he had learned his lesson. He then went to see his third daughter, and they wished for fish to eat. Her troll husband had them row out to the lake, he went into the water and came out with a multitude of fish. He gave his father-in-law three bags of money, which he lost foolishly in the same manner. Once again, he claimed he had learned a valuable lesson.
[ He takes a breather here. Is this even going somewhere?? ]
Not long after, the man was with his wife at home and they needed broth, so he tried to jam his head on a spike. Unfortunately, this failed to produce any broth, and he was miserable for a while afterward due to his self-inflicted injury. Soon they needed light to see, and instead of candles, he burned himself sticking his hand in the fire, attempting to replicate what the troll had done. Eventually, they needed food, and his wife wished for fresh fish to eat. He wanted to show her he could be a good provider without buying food, and thus asked her to come with him in a boat to get the fish. They rowed out to the lake, and imitating the troll, he went into the water to scoop up the fish, and he never surfaced again.
[ He looks up at her, brows flat. ]
...Huh.
[ Yeah that's. All. Huh. ]
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but she listens to the story anyway, quiet the entire time. if he's looking for a strong reaction he'll be disappointed, alisaie simply looks.. rather amused the entire time. partly because of the story itself, but also because of how prompto looks while he's reading it, all of his opinions clear as crystal right there on his face. gods, she's so fond of him.
the face he makes once he finishes and looks to her, however, earns a laugh that soon dissolves into a rattling cough which she turns against her sleeve. worth it. she's still smiling once she recovers, wiping her eyes. ]
The moral of the story, I suppose, is that trolls make for excellent husbands. Mayhaps I must needs reevaluate our arrangement.
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If he gets sick, she'll blame herself. That'd be worse than the distance between them, this lingering gulf.
Wouldn't it?
Idly, he starts unlacing his boots. It's a clear message, that he's intending to stay for awhile, but he hardly acknowledges it - and his fingers still a moment later, a giddy laugh rolling out of him, high and clear. ]
Man! Who would've guessed a troll would come along to steal my girl? [ He slips one boot off, watchful, even as he teases. ] Fair warning, though - I hear they smell terrible. [ And the other boot. ]
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when he begins to unlace his boots, however, there's a shifting misgiving in her heart, the pull of guilt. he shouldn't stay.. but gods, it's so nice to have him here. he may want nothing more than to ease her aches and pains but honestly it is the fear that unsettles her the most. she's a soldier, a fighter, she's accustomed to pain and discomfort, for as often as she lands herself in the infirmary - but flesh wounds heal, broken bones mend. this.. this sickness is nothing so simple, and she hides it well beneath her usual quips and jabs, but in truth, she is petrified. she cannot fight this thing with magic or a sword, nor can she reason it away. if it turns out to be nothing more than a flu she'll surely feel silly for it, but deep in her bones she's terrified.
there's no reason to share it. they both know what it is that they are facing, that this illness is devious and unknowable, and surely he is just as frightened as she. so little things like this, books and soup and his warm presence, are the best sort of balm she could receive.
she should stop him. she should send him away. but she cannot. ]
You claim to smell better?
[ she wrinkles her nose and sniffs, narrowing her eyes. ]
Those boots of yours attest otherwise.
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[ He elevates his tone, keeping it light and breezy, letting this playful banter sound like how it should, without the heaviness in his heart afflicting his words. She doesn't send him away, but will he allow himself to be selfish enough to stay?
He wants to. Gods, he wants to, to settle into her bed right next to her and sleep until the world is better. Being with her - loving her - shouldn't be as complicated as he's making it right now. ]
Besides, these're the only paired Peo hasn't -
[ But whatever Peo has or hasn't done to those boots, she'll never know, because at the moment he mentions his pup, Prompto slaps a hand onto his face. ]
Oh man, I can't believe I forgot to go home and feed him.
[ Not. Like there's anyone else there that can do it while he's gone, now. Poor Peo's been home alone, all day... ]
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I'm sure he's all right, surely one of your roommates looked after him, yes?
[ 8| 8| 8| ]
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- How could he have been so careless? Both to forget to see to Peo's needs, while he's probably anxious and scared and hungry, and to let something slip like that. He tries to be deliberate with his words, thinking before speaking, yet the realization hit him too suddenly for him to think better of it. Now she's - now she's asking him that, and -
His gaze breaks away. Putting off telling her is one thing, but he will not lie to her. Not ever. Even if the consequences of his oversight are already threatening to spill out into his tight features, his rigid posture, his fretting hands, flitting over the pages of the book he still holds in his lap. This - this night was never supposed to be about him. This was about her, helping her feel better, making her smile and laugh even though she's sick and the city is in chaos and they don't know who did this, or why. Now he's threatening to take more than he gives, once more, as he always seemed to do. Why, why could he just be here for her, unwavering and supportive, without falling to pieces himself, just once?
His exhale is sharp, burdened, wholly spiteful towards himself. ]
...Not anymore.
[ Then inhaling again quickly, hands up, quick to smooth, to assure, to do anything he can to keep the brunt of this revelation from hurting more than it needs to. Please. Please. ]
- It's - it's fine, there's so many other things going on right now, and - please -
[ Don't worry about him because of this. His friends deserved to be mourned - for what were they, if not all but dead to him now? - but not now, not like this. ]
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he can't mean.. stasis, can he? all of them?
but of course, there's nothing else he could mean. gods - today of all days? alisaie's head is swimming; it's too much, it isn't fair. prompto had just begun to recover from the blow he'd been dealt days before, and now today, this.. this attack on the city, which she's sure he must blame himself for, in some way, though she has yet to address it (she will, you can be absolutely sure of it). but to lose his companions as well, and so soon after two of them had arrived..
alisaie understands, in her way. her family and friends have been in stasis since the moment she arrived, her parents, her brother, urianger, lyse, the scions all - she has x'rhun now at least, which is a comfort she is exceedingly grateful for, but there is still a hole in her heart where her family belongs. of course she's gotten by on her own, in no small part thanks to prompto's company, but it has not always been easy. moreover, prompto is not her; he's so much stronger than he gives himself credit for, but he is also sensitive, he cares for those around him, and losing his closest companions to stasis all in one day - she knows him well, knows his heart, knows how much it must ache. and she's angry as well, angry that it had to happen at all, to him. angry that he's been here all this time laughing over a silly book, hiding this from her.
but she can't be too angry, not when he looks so wounded, so raw. after a long moment of silence, and her gaze fixed upon him, alisaie speaks in an even, gentle voice, albeit firm enough to brook no argument. ]
Go and get him, bring him here.
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If she needs time, distance, a little while to herself before dealing with him on top of everything else, he'd understand. It'd be...only fair. She's already got so much to worry about right now. He'd wanted to stay to be a comfort to her, not the other way around.
...But then, she doesn't send him away - at least, not for the night, giving him clear instructions to return with Peo. Numbly, he unfolds his legs and shoves his feet back into his boots, though he doesn't bother with the laces. If...if he'll be back soon, there's no point, considering the short distance he has to go. And thank the Six for that - a long walk, left alone with his thoughts to dwell on everything that's transpired today, would not leave him in a good place.
So, hurriedly, he steps to the door, drawing into himself the pain he knows is shaping his very frame. But he stops there, a moment, gaze flashing up to meet hers with a look so honest and needful that he can't say the words he so desperately needs to.
Then he's gone, from her room and then from her flat, to collect his poor, neglected dog and the remnants of happiness he'd felt at home with him. ]
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it's an injustice that never sits well with her, that good people should have to suffer so disproportionately, and in all her days of lonely travel it is something she had never been able to come to terms with. eorzea was a wild place, its people petty and brutal, its weather and world inconstant and dangerous even at the best of times and alisaie had lost so much to it, been unable to save far too many people. good people. here, it seems, is no different, and she cannot fathom why he should ever have to feel sad, he who brings so much light and warmth into the world, into her life - painfully, she can't help but be reminded of emery. her smile was so like his, her life, in the end, so unjustly taken.
once he is gone she sighs and draws her legs up, looping her arms over her knees and resting her chin upon them. a tightness is building in her chest that clutches at her throat and threatens to tip her, to burgeon into heat and prickling tears all underlined by a silent, righteous fury that roils in her heart. with clenched teeth she presses it down, her fingers caught in her sleeves, her aching eyes closed.
all she can do is wait, and hope that he won't be too long. or worse, that he won't come back at all, that he'll stay away out of some backwards notion that he doesn't deserve to be here. it's not as if she could easily chase him down were he to isolate himself, but you'd better be sure that if he doesn't return soon enough for her liking she will do just that, flu or no flu. ]
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He doesn't deserve it, and especially not now, when she's the one who is ill and should be recovering. She'd be frustrated with him for not going back, but if that meant she'd go to sleep and rest instead of having to patch him up once again, she'd be...better off, right?
But there's a stubborn voice in the back of his mind - it sounds quite a bit like Noctis and Alisaie both - that keeps his feet moving once he's entered his empty apartment and picks up Peo. The dog is overjoyed to see him, and Prompto him, and he grabs a bowl of dog food before -
Before he heads back.
He doesn't knock at the door this time, slipping back in noiselessly, second-guessing himself every step he takes back to Alisaie's room.
She'll hear Peo approaching first, as he seems to know exactly where to go without having ever been here before. He tears into the room, tail wagging madly as he hops up onto Alisaie's bed to greet her.
Prompto appears a moment later, once again hovering in the doorway, uncertain of whether or not she's change her mind about asking him to come back as he stoops to set down Peo's bowl. ]
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but he doesn't disappoint her. the sound of peo's clacking brings with it a rush of relief, and she sits a little straighter just as he comes crashing into the room, joyous and wagging. she breaks into a smile as peo leaps up and straight into her arms, rolling on the blankets with his belly up, smothering her hands with kisses. ]
Yes, I missed you too.
[ she croons, giving that exposed belly a good rub before she's glancing up toward prompto at last, who's hovering in the doorway like a ghost. her expression folds a little with sympathy, but mostly she's just glad that he came back to her, that he didn't run off as she was so worried that he might. alisaie pats the bed beside her with one free hand, the other still busy with peo, her voice scratchy but soft. ]
Come here, you fool.
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i can't believe she han solo'd him
8') puts promptos hair in buns
couple's costumes
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