nysalogs | [ CLOSED ] ❝ it's who we are ❞

Entry tags:

[ CLOSED ] ❝ it's who we are ❞

Who: Noctis (

noctsout), Gladio (

pappio), & Prompto (

punshots)
What: 3/4ths of a magical boy band settle into their new home.
When: ca. The Descent Pt. 3
Where: House #60
Warning(s): n/a probs

[ It's a long walk up to House #60, the very last house in the block of homes set aside for Olympia's newest refugees. Fortunately, such daunting heights are better reached in good company, and Prompto's lucky enough to have both Noctis and his newly adopted pooch (affectionately named Stupeo) with him. They're a scrappy bunch, though conspicuously down one member of their retinue from the day before.

Gladio's absence sticks out like a sore thumb, but Prompto knows better than to ask about it. At least, for now. They'd all had plenty on their minds these past few days, between being here and losing Eos, and it had affected them all their own way. It's not like Gladio to not be with them right now, though, and Prompto can't help the feeling that there's something Noct might not have told him yet. Even still - he's all pleasant chit-chat and good-natured complaints during their ascent to their new digs, pointing out every interesting thing that catches his eye to his best friend and whistling for the dog to keep following them. Soon enough, they reach their destination, and Prompto throws the front door wide to step inside the home. ]

...Cozy! [ That's one way of putting it, at least, as he surveys the space. They've definitely stayed in more cramped confines before, though they'd always had Ignis with them to, you know, do his thing. It might take some minor adjusting, but nothing they can't handle, right?

Prompto glances back at Noct and gestures to the open room. ] What do you think? A palace fit for a king, or what?

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[ It's way too long of a walk up to House #60, who the hell even made up these housing assignments? There would've nothing so perfect as a house right dab in the middle, just enough away from the bustle of the markets without being so isolated from the rest of their society of refugees. His legs were burning, his lungs needed airing, not to mention the rest of the phantom aches and pains that he's pointedly Not Talking About, happy enough to lean on Prompto's infectious energy. To be distracted by how it'd taken no time at all for a certain half of their merry band of four (three) to mess things back up.

Stupeo the puppy-stray is good enough of a focus to pin his thoughts too, wrestling them into something harmless and something loss... less. Was loss-less even a word? It was now.

It's a blessing and a half to finally make their way past the umpteenth house to open sesame their way into-- this. Wow, cramped didn't even begin to cover it. If Gladio tried real hard, maybe he could even stretch his arms to touch wall-to-wall or something. A thought to entertain as a dare for later, for maybe when said giant repatriated his ass back from, you know, wherever. Whatever. ]

Oh, yeah. Real cozy. Never seen anything better.

[ How were they going to keep a dog on top of squeezing three grown men into a space like this. Don't mind the sidelong, doubtful look that he casts back on your pooch, Prompto. He likes animals as much as the next guy, maybe even a little more than the usual guy, but. ]

Better hope that Stu-- [ hah ] Stupeo came potty-trained. There's barely enough space for us in here.

[ Prompto follows Noct's gaze back to Stupeo, who is wagging his tail and panting in about the most charming way possible as he trots inside the house - house is kinda a generous term, isn't it? - and starts sniffing at the sparse decor. How anyone could say no to a face like that is beyond him, but he has to concede...yeah, it's gonna be a tight squeeze. ]

Oh - [ a dismissive sound, as he waves a hand ] - Iiiii'm sure he is. [ ...But he'll take him out on frequent walks for awhile at first, just in case. Not like they have a backyard for the pup to go frolicking around in... ] And if it gets too cramped, I'll go - sleep on the roof, or something. It'll be like bunk beds!

[ Except not at all. He's only halfway joking, however.

Prompto crosses over the very spacious floor and drops down to sprawl on one of the beds, sighing contentedly. If nothing else, at least there are soft, clean beds! ]

Just imagine if Iggy were with us, too. [ He pauses, reconsidering. ] Actually? He'd probably figure out a way to make this place seem bigger.

[ If that pup pees on his bed, Gods help you in disciplining that thing, Prompto. 'Cause Noct's a weakling against cute little things, and Stupeo has Prompto trumped in that aspect by a lot (if only on the basis of being four-legged and vulnerable to getting petted and spoiled into oblivion). Plus? Noct refuses to be the mean parent. That particular responsibility should fall on the one that adopted him. ]

He does have that way about him, yeah.

[ Don't tip this into a sad and wistful moment by missing those that had failed to wake up on time, just-- don't. Noct'll do his part by wandering in after Prompto, taking a seat at the edge of the bed, elbow resting on his knees. Slanting him a look-- ]

Considering how small this place is? That roof's barely going to fit the dog, much less a person. Better off that you share the bed. [ And because he's a brat, ] Which-- won't be me. Calling it now.

[ As if Prompto has the capacity to be the mean parent. That's gonna have to be their """"mysterious"""" other roommate(s). That, or their neighbors who complain when Stupeo starts barking at a shadow on the wall at four in the morning.

It's all well and good with Prompto if they don't make a pitstop to talk about their friends - family - still frozen up on the Station, because even with Darma's reassurances that they were safe, it's kinda impossible not to worry about, anyway. Better to focus on what they can help now - which, as it turns out, is who gets dibs on sleeping where.

Prompto sits up abruptly, features crinkling. ] Aw, come on - seriously? We gotta at least take turns. Or rock-paper-scissors-it-up!

[ Other things to invest in: a pack of cards... ]

Nuh-uh. Should've thought faster on laying dibs.

[ No way is he giving up this advantage, he's a brat. And brats need their beauty sleep, twenty-odd hours of it per day. There's a point that's being made by how Noct squeezes himself onto the bed as soon as Prompto sits up, being maaaybe tempted to, just. Rolling. Onto his side and into Prompto, herding him right off of the mattress. Maybe. He'll stop at flopping onto his back for now. It's a three-step process.

Craning down to look at Prompto, at Stupeo, then Prompto again. Hm. Hmmm. ]

I mean, I guess I could share the bed with Stupeo if I really had to. [ Out of the goodness of his heart, you feel him? ]

[ So help him if Noct steamrolls him off his bed. He knows where you sleep, buddy. Because it was just so irretrievably claimed. But for all his bellyaching, it's not as if Prompto wouldn't take the floor at the drop of a hat if it meant someone else got a better night's rest, but that's not going to stop him from bellyaching. He has appearances to keep up!

In an overly-dramatic tone, as Prompto takes Stupeo's head between his hands and meets the dog's eyes directly: ] What, and make this poor animal, who has suffered enough, choose between a lumpy bed or sleeping next to the tenderhearted guy who adopted him and saved him from a life on the streets?

[ ...Stupeo will definitely choose the bed. ]

[ Just as much as Prompto may be so eager to give up a bed? Noct wouldn't actually let his friend sleep on the floor if he could help it. Maybe they could sleep horizontally... or something. Or invest the first little bit of their funds into finding themselves a bunk bed; that would make things fun in more than one way.

He twists onto his side in step two of the process, glancing down at the tongue-lolling, happy panting face of Stupeo. And reaches a hand past the gap below Prompto's armpit to give the dog a nice little scratch and ruffle to the fur of his head.

... Yeah, he's definitely stealing him away for the night. Noct's face is doing all sorts of weird and cooing things, though he'll spare them all of actually making said cooing noises. He's fine with spoiling him with attention and the rights to this bed. ]

Sleep close enough to the bed and he won't have to.

[ Stupeo can lie between them. Noct on his right, the dog at the edge of the bed, and Prompto to his left...... on the floor. Perfect. ]

[ If Gladio ever visits (and at this rate, Prompto's not sure he will and he's still not bringing it up), maybe he can build them a bunk bed. Can't be that hard, right? You just stack one bed on top of the other. It should be easy for a big, strong like him to accomplish, and yes, Prompto will lay on the compliments thick if it comes to asking for something like that. ]

So you can step on me when you go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? [ There's a sound of a verbal eye-roll in his voice. Let's be real - in the close quarters of a tent in the wilderness, they've all stepped on each other at one point or another to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. But that doesn't make him any more willing to put himself in such a vulnerable position.

Unfortunately for Prompto, though, Stupeo is clearly loving the extra attention he's getting from Noct, ears relaxed and eyelids heavy.

Sighing, Prompto throws his hands up in the air. ] Betrayed by my own pet...after everything we've been through together.

[ In the...less-than-a-day they've been acquainted. ]

[ To which, Noct will argue: why can't they do it? Put their strengths together and they might have one Gladio (which, nothing happened, so there wasn't anything to talk about), then they'll have a bunk bed all the more sooner. And no one would be so cruel as to separate two homesick ~~little~~ boys with their new pet, surely.

A pet that Noct's all for spoiling rotten, 'cause damn. Look at this face, fluffy and adorable. Then again, furry creatures always did hold a special place in Noct's heart, liable to turn him into a cooing mess if he wasn't being careful. Fortunately for Prompto? He seems to be toning it down for reaching both hands out to give Stupeo all the scritching that he deserves. ]

Nah, can't blame him for being smart. [ Just like the person that he was named after. ] He knows where it's at.

[ Rooooolling over a little more, the knobs of his knees bumping into Prompto's behind. All the while ruffling Stupeo's face into a poofy, tongue-lolling mess of happiness. ]

Don't you, buddy? [ Oops, nevermind, there's the cooing. ]

[ The perils of being a chronic percher and also being Prompto - he doesn't even realize that his number is almost up. He's too busy snorting with laughter at Noct's dog coos. Not like Prompto has any room to talk in that regard, but he's not the one being embarrassing right now, and that deserves to be called out. ]

Man, I haven't seen you this bad since the last stray we found. [ The pot absolutely calling the kettle black, considering how Prompto absolutely melts the moment he's within a five mile radius of a chocobo, but Noct's all but asking to ribbed. ]

Maaaaybe we can work out a joint-custody deal. You can have him twice a week. I get him the rest of the nights.

[ Yes, that sounds fair. ]

[ The sheer outrageousness of his lateness is only hampered by the fact it isn't evening yet. The last vestiges of daylight have waxed but haven't yet waned, painting his silhouette as he makes the trek to the very last of the motley houses. Scratching rather insensibly at the nametag he got stamped with has been the worst of his preoccupations on the laborious jaunt up. It's sorta tacky, but not any tackier than his usual outfit, and it's helping him find his current accommodations, to boot. He'll live.

He's on a whole other plane of unease, besides, but in light of the bone of contention he's picked with Noct, the poor suckers he must've been stuck with can't be that much worse-off. Making his way to the doorstep is telling enough of the ingenuity of the building, though, given how he almost smacks his head against the entryway as he enters, ducking and missing the concussion he's so nearly earned by two or so inches. ]

Looks real cramped in here. That door's gonna be a problem.

[ Low ceilings, the smell of dust motes cozying themselves to the walls and the furniture, all the artifacts of neglect gathered to roost in one spot. Still, he's wrenched into more cramped spaces before, so no skin off his back. ]

Hey! Anyone in here?

[ This is, like, miscommunication at work (read: what happens when he doesn't so much as bother with reconvening with Prompto or Noct in favor of bum-rushing his """new""" roommates with his arrival). Hope they're friendly, or at least, not a complete pain in the ass. ]

[ Gladio is in luck, because at least one of his roommates is friendly, and immediately so, because he's barely announced himself with his cordial greeting when Stupeo comes bounding around the corner (about the only corner in this place). Turns out he probably won't be much use as a guard dog, because Stupeo's first instincts upon reaching Gladio are not to bark, but to wag his tail and paw as his pantleg playfully.

And where Stupeo goes, Prompto is sure to follow, the next to appear in this ironic parade of Gladio's new roommates. He wears a disbelieving grin, some photos and string in hand for decorating, because of course he is. They may not even have, you know, food yet, but hung photographs were a necessity. ]

No way, man! You, too? [ Gladio can probably guess who the other person is included in that "too" as Prompto tucks the photos under his arm to properly clap his friend on the shoulder. ]

Welcome to the digs! Ah - you know how they say "last one in is a rotten egg"?

[ It means Gladio gets to be the one to sleep on the floor tonight, HE'S SO GLAD TO SEE YOU, BUDDY. ]

[ Oh. That sure is a dog. If his roomie's just a rascally mutt, then— no complaints here. He can spend his life with the flea-bitten, mangy dog relatively unscathed, bending down to affectionately comb at the scruff. Alright. Things are finally looking up.

But good things can only last so long, that presumption crashing and burning in a ball of fire by the time he catches sight of Prompto, which just about clues him in on the owner. Right. Okay. It's not really Prompto's fault at all, but just the sight of him alone's enough for Gladio's expression to peter out from vaguely amicable to some kind of emotionally constipated. The patch on his shirt briefly blinks out to list starting arguments, eating noodles, and exercising before he's smudging at it, still bent to scratch vigorously at the dog's furry scalp. ]

Yeah, guess so. [ Pat, pat, pat. That sure is a lot of petting, it's not like he's avoiding Prompto's very obvious insinuations here, nope. In this moment, he remains blissfully unaware of their forthcoming sleeping arrangements. What a blessing. ] Gonna clue me in on what I missed?

[ Prompto takes this moment of Gladio getting acquainted with with their new furry quadruped to give his friend a once-over. The change in Gladio's expression hasn't gone unnoticed by him, even if it will go uncommented on, and there's an unmistakable twitch to Prompto's lips when he reads the betraying nametag. He's already gotten used to his changing to photography, shooting firearms, and talking too much to pay it much attention now, but man. They've got them pegged, don't they? ]

I found a dog! [ As is probably evident, considering the presence of a dog. Prompto's extra grateful for Peo to be the conversational scapegoat at the moment, however. It's a lot easier for both of them to talk about his bleeding heart and inability to turn away a cute animal in need than to get into their living arrangements. He'll get to that - momentarily. ]

- Actually, Riza Hawkeye found him. Pretty badass name, right? [ He means Hawkeye, because the dog's name is... ] This is Peo.

[ Short for Stupeo, natch. Prompto stands like a proud parent should, smile beaming down at the dog. ]

[ Thanks for indulging his emotional constipation, Prompto. Much appreciated. Neither of them talk about those incriminating nametags, but they lay enough sick burns on each other that it's rote enough to look past them, like water gliding off a duck's back. Doesn't make it any less validating, though, that the populace is already onto Prompto's chatterbox habits. ]

I can see that. Looks like this little guy really warmed up to you. [ Huh ... he did fight spiders with Riza, but does he know her sick-ass name yet .... hm. He's on the cusp of commenting on it, only to do a double-take at the newest addition to their squad. That sure doesn't sound like one of the pretentious latin names he's come to know and love, but they all did know Dave back in Eos. Exceptions exist. Gladio affords the dog another bemused ruffle. ] Y'mean like pee-yew?

[ Pee-o, pee-yew, tomayto, tomahto. Logistically, it fits just about as much as much as a flower fits a guy with the physique of a thug, so Prompto earns an unceremonious shrug. 7/10, he'll take it. ]

... So he's yours, then. [ Kind of takes after his owner, too, what with all the yapping. Before they get ahead of themselves, though: ] You check him for ticks and fleas first?

Nah, "Peo" as in "Stupeo"! Or - Stupeo Argentum? I mean, I'm pretty much his proud pop now. [ Also, does he need a middle name? He probably needs a middle name. He logs that thought for the moment, though. He'd gotten Noct's input on the name "Stupeo", so maybe the three of them could work on the middle name.

You know, whenever Noct wakes up and he and Gladio hash out...whatever it is that's going on between them. (He's still not asking about it, by the way.)

Prompto pockets his photos and string - another thing he'll get back to in a minute - so he can give Gladio his full attention. Though it might have been a good idea to wait until after that question is asked so he had some excuse to busy himself while answering it. ]

Uh - yeah, of course I did! Well - [ a wave of his hand ] - I mean, I gave him a bath earlier and nothing weird happened, so...we're good there?

[ It's halfway a question, because he doesn't know if that's really thorough enough of a check. ]

[ Just name him Prompto Jr. and get it over with, no need to hash semantics here, no one will judge. (Much.) Since Prompto's a proud daddy now, he needs to take initiative when taking care of his child. That includes making sure he doesn't end up shitting up the bed or yelping at inhuman hours of the night, or it'll be more than just Peo in the doghouse.

Never mind how welcome the distraction is. Obviously, Prompto's new buddy takes precedence over the guy they're definitely not talking about right now. ]

S'long as he's not sleeping with me, doesn't matter to me. [ Says the guy still ruffling the doggy's head. Double standards are intrinsic to Gladio's character. ] Might wanna double-check if fleas start hoppin' off you. Just saying.

[ But he eventually breaks rank with the love of Prompto's life to gesture at the photographs wadded beneath an armpit. ]

Reminiscing?

[ A look of utter disgust pales his face at the mention of "fleas". ] Eugh! No thank you. I'll give him a few more baths - just to make sure.

[ Because Prompto loves his new pooch, he really does. But is that love strong enough to overcome his absolute aversion to anything with six-or-more legs crawling on him in the middle of the night? Well, it's best for everyone that he doesn't find out.

Prompto finds a few spare inches of wall space to lounge against, arms uncrossing and re-crossing as he pulls the photographs out again. ]

Heh, yeah. I had a whole bunch of 'em show up on the Station with me. I thought it might be nice to make this place a little more - you know. Homey.

[ It's bittersweet, all these pictures from a world and a life that's lost to them now. But it still wouldn't do to not remember. ]

[ Yeah, you do that, 'cause isn't that how it goes, love conquering sanity. When the mites start cropping up alongside fire ants and all manner of vermin, he's vamoosing to go pitch a camping tent and live out in the wilds, never to be seen or heard from again. He'll keep all the ditz moths and araches company with his grousing over the dog, but they'll have one less contender to their poker card tournaments.

While Prompto makes himself out to be part of the art decó, like a finely crafted sculpture to add some stylistic flair to their popsicle stick-and-gum settlement, Gladio hums— slides his gaze up from the kid to the tacks on the walls, the little photo collage Prompto's thought to festoon on the walls.

The sight's— kind of sad, but he doesn't betray all that emotional constipation in him as he swings back upright, skirting the question of Noct entirely. ]

Keeps you distracted from the smell, yeah. [ The musty, sulfurous odor of something left untouched for too long, rot canvassing the walls. ] Let's crack some windows open. We've got a lot to cover.

[ On the hierarchy of needs, though, before any home-redecorating: ] You eat yet?

[ Hey, that's one way to put it, at least. And it's better than being told to take them down, which would be a disappointment both in the actual action of taking them down and having to undo what he's spent the last half-hour doing. And do you know how hard it was to track down some string and pins? Way more difficult than it should've been, buddy. He has no idea how long they'll really be expected to stay here, but for as long as they are...it's better than nothing.

Plus, you can't see the cracks in the wall as much anymore!

He tilts his chin up, mouth twitching into a smile. ] Not since lunch. [ Which, you know, usually is the assumption when someone asks you if you've eaten yet, and compounded with the emotional stress that always comes with "moving in", he's practically famished, starving really, wasting away to a skeleton. ]

You're not gonna...cook, are you?

[ Because Prompto doesn't trust himself to attempt it, but he might trust Gladio to even less. ]

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[ CLOSED ] ❝ it's who we are ❞

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