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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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Which, of course, is an extraordinary understatement. The house was uncharacteristically quiet when he'd woken that morning, and it should've been the first sign of trouble. But he had no reason to suspect anything was wrong, despite the growing sense of dread blossoming in his stomach. The other boys had probably just - woken earlier, and gone their own ways early in the morning. It's not the first time this has happened, and he'll reach out to them later. He's running late for work, anyway.
Maybe it's only the lens he saw through looking back, but it seemed like there was something in the air that morning. Something unwelcome and stale, and it's not long before that foreboding shadow lingering in his thoughts manifests itself into something real and horrible.
A bomb, not one of fire and shrapnel, but a biohazard, and once again, he'd failed to stop it. It's extremely fortunate that they talked when they did, that Alisaie had told him so plainly that he couldn't hope to stop every attack in the market district by himself. But this coming so soon after Victarion's iron-fisted justice is such a slap to the face that it's numbing. It has him reeling, but he gets caught up in the motions, because the guard is called into action and he has to do what he can to catch the people responsible for this. He has to...he has to make this right.
It's when he's texting Noctis, Ignis and Gadio to make sure they're alright, only to have their messages bounce, that he really starts to unravel.
Not that he lets it show - oh, no. He's committed to his work, and thank the Six he has that to throw himself into. To numb himself by working, investigating, trading quips and picking up others who were down. By all appearances, he'd seem fine to most. A little rattled, sure, but weren't they all?
But there are moments - pauses that take too long, lost in thought, gaze distant like he's staring into the jaws of some unfathomable beast, ready to swallow him up - that tell a different story. It only builds as they day passes, and eventually, he breaks away from the market, to make a stop that he absolutely needs to make. It wasn't even a question of whether or not he'd go to her now, and it's a good thing, too - there's so very little he feels certain about right now.
Once again, he'll ask too much, but...he needs to be with her for awhile.
So when she opens the door, dressed down and flushed, he's so overcome with relief just to see her that he doesn't fully consider these other facts yet. ]
Alisaie! [ He steps over the threshold, and for that single moment, he wears a genuine smile as he moves to embrace her. ] I'm so glad you're okay -
[ But his voice trails a bit on that last word. Why does she look like she's...
Sick? ]
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- but she'd refrained, of course, so as not to smother him, but also because she's sure he has his hands full; no doubt the royal guard were among the first response, and knowing prompto as she does he must have been working tirelessly. she trusts him to come to her the moment he has the chance, trusts that he will take the time to check in whenever he can.
none of that is as good as seeing him, though, and he seems healthy, if exhausted, which loosens the knot around her heart a bit. ]
I'm fine, you look terrible.
[ blistering honesty, indeed.. ]
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[ But not much worse, which is saying something. Her assessment is very fair, though - despite it only being day one of this whole fiasco, he looks remarkably tired, like he hasn't slept for days, and yet like the sort of person who doesn't look like he'll be sleeping anytime soon.
He weaves their fingers together, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment, the impossible weight of the day pressing down on his shoulders. At least...at least she's still here. He doesn't even want to think about how he might've reacted if she were gone, too.
He's too grateful for her very presence and companionship in that moment to focus on much else, so he leans in to do what she hasn't yet, to kiss her. ]
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but he's leaning in to kiss her, and that's the end of that - she can't allow it, can't allow him to catch this.. whatever it is. immediately her hand shoots up, fingers pressed gently to his lips, while she ducks back a little. ]
Don't -
[ she feels guilty all but immediately, he certainly looks as if he could use the comfort, but alas. alisaie exhales in a heavy sigh; best to simply tear off the bandage. ]
I'm not.. feeling well.
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Shit.
Instantly, he frets, hands smoothing over her hair, as he assesses her, takes in the state of her anew. No, no, not her. There's too much they don't understand about this illness, and the fear that she might have what had been unleashed upon the city that day is nothing short of gaping. ]
It's not - you weren't - there, were you?
[ Gods, please tell him she wasn't there when the bomb went off. Please. Tell him this is just a coincidence, a head cold, nothing more. ]
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she's tried not to think about it, swallowed that fear down because letting it creep in won't do her any good - but she feels that facade begin to crumble once prompto's hands are on her face, over her hair. ]
No, I - I wasn't, but..
[ gods, she wants to tell him that it's nothing, that it's a simple cold, she wants to tell herself that as well, but he'd never believe it if she did, and she couldn't lie to his face even if she wanted to. she swallows thickly, her glance straying to riza's closed door. ]
Riza was. She came home sick, and I've been - [ a trembling exhale, and she shakes her head quickly ] - Gods, Prompto, you shouldn't stay. I should not have allowed you through the door to begin with, I'm sorry.
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His fingers knot in her hair. He wants to gather her up, carry her to her bed and tend to her stalwartly, because he can't let her get any sicker. She has to get better.
He squeezes his eyes shut. She wants him to go. And he can't blame her. Not really. It's only reasonable, that should he want to make himself actually useful he should honor her wishes and keep himself healthy, not stay here where multiple people were ill. He should...go home.
His empty, bereft home.
...No, he can't tell her now. Not with the way she's already suffering. He'll shoulder this, spare her the hurt he knows she'll share if he tells her because they're his. ]
Y-you're - you're right. I-I don't want to - [ He shakes his head, bone-tired. How could he bear to leave now, with her sick like this? But by the same token, how could he stay, when she's expressly said he shouldn't?
One side of his mouth tugs into such a pathetic smile. ]
What can I bring you?
[ That, at least, is something he can do for her, even if it's - gods - not staying with her. Which is all he wants to do at the moment. ]
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what she wouldn't give to kiss him, to kiss his hands that are tight in his hair, to pull his face down and kiss his sweet mouth until that pain is chased away, to comfort him how she knows he would best respond to. she knows how much he craves touch, affection, and that she cannot adequately give it to him when he's exhausted and hurting is a fierce disappointment. and gods, he surely must be blaming himself for that bomb as well, were his interactions with victarion any indication..
it's only because she thoroughly washed her hands before answering the door that alisaie feels comfortable lifting them to cradle his face, drawing her thumbs gently over his cheeks. ]
Prompto..
[ she says his name almost like a quiet warning, and for a moment it seems as if she will deny him again. if he were to get sick because of her, because of her carelessness - riza is sick already, and leanne is gone, threatened, afraid, if he were to come down with this too - feast or famine, it seems; everything is falling apart at once.
maybe she's weak. she is weak. she shouldn't relent, but she does, because his pain resonates to her and she doesn't have it in her right now to deny him anything. ]
.. please, just.. be careful. If you want to do something for me, wash your hands.
[ that would bring her more comfort than any coddling might. ]
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You know what a stickler I am for hygiene. [ A little self-deprecation to warm the tension between them, because he hates it - hates that he has to feel anything but content and peaceful around her. But of course, how he's feeling matters little, and he remains wholly focused on what he can do for her.
So, although is terribly hard to step away from even the slight touch she's allowed him, he does so, moving in to the kitchen. She said wash his hands, so he's going to wash his hands, dammit!! ]
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.. but seeing even that fleeting, weak smile soothes her heart a little bit, even if she's inwardly chastising herself. she must needs see to it that he is careful. it's been announced that the disease isn't airborne, so as long as she is on top of keeping him clean and at a distance from any sneezing, things should hopefully be all right.
they'll have to be. heaven help them both if he comes down with this too.
her eyes follow him briefly while he moves to the kitchen, watching to be sure he's scrubbing his hands well, before she at last begins to amble listlessly back toward her bedroom, sweeping a hand across her eyes. even being on her feet this short amount of time has her head spinning. ]
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Once his hands are thoroughly washed and dried, Prompto trots off towards her bedroom, stopping to lean in the door frame. It's - hard not to think about the last time he was in here, incomparably happy, and it hurts, a little, just what a different atmosphere is clouding around them now.
He drums his fingers on his arms, giving her a look over. She looks...miserable, and his stomach twists, knowing there's nothing he can do to immediately make her feel better. ]
Have you ever seen a pair of hands so clean before?
[ He tries for his usual cheer, grasps at it, but it's - hard. ]
Did you try...taking anything for it?
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with a soft exhale she sits at the edge of her bed, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. funny, how it feels so strange being so far from him - it's only a few feet, but they've been so hideously affectionate for this last month that it feels almost alien to share a room with him without sitting next to him, or holding his hand, or kissing him.
weird. god. what have you made her into, prompto??
his attempt at cheer does earn him a weak smile, however, if only because it's cute, how hard he's trying, and she wants to give him at least that much. but soon after, she shakes her head. ]
Nothing has helped.
[ but of course, he was likely expecting that answer. ]
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In the meantime...he'll do what he can, even if it isn't much. ]
Hey, it's only day one. We'll figure out - something.
[ Gods, it's driving him crazy, to keep his distance like this, to not tuck her in his arms and curl around her until she falls asleep. It's worse than before they started dating, when he'd had his feelings for her but been too abashed to act on them. Now, he knows better, and it still makes no difference.
After a moment of silence, he pushes himself off the door frame and steps towards her bookcase, looking over the titles. ]
So...in that case, might help if we got our minds off it for awhile, wouldn't you say?
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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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i can't believe she han solo'd him
8') puts promptos hair in buns
couple's costumes
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