nysalogs | [ OPEN ] ❝ and i don't want to talk about the world ❞

Who: Prompto (

punshots) & YOU
What: October catchall, with open prompts for part 1 of the event!
When: Right the heck now!
Where: Around Olympia
Warning(s): sad boy...but none probably?!

I. MARKET DISTRICT.

[ He's there when the bomb goes off.

Not within range to be affected by it, but as a member of the royal guard, Prompto's very assignment is to patrol the market district. Facing down Victarion after he'd killed a man there the week previous had been harrowing enough, given him too much to think about, too many questions to ask about himself and what he was even doing in the guard in the first place. This latest attack is nothing short of a slap across the face.

Not that he lingers on how it makes him feel - he hardly dwells on it. As always, he's feelings are shuffled neatly aside, even when reaching out to his friends - his brothers - to make sure they're okay in the aftermath, only to find his messages rebounding. Noctis, Ingis, and Gladio - all three, in stasis once more.

He's not equipped to deal with this devastation right now, so he doesn't. He bottles it up, sets his jaw, and goes to work. This bomb went off on his watch, so...he has to find the people responsible, right? Of course he does. It's what...Noct would have done.

So he'll be doing the following:

A. Assisting with clean-up. The bomb has made a terrible mess of things, and these merchants in the market district are people he knows well by now. He knows their names, their families, their hopes and dreams, and something like this is nothing short of devastating for many of them. He can't replace what was infected, but he can at least help clear away what's no longer fit to sell.

He approaches with a hefty (just the adjective, not the brand, Hefty TM Reynolds Consumer Products, Inc.) trash bag that's already pretty swollen with infected goods, wearing gloves and a respirator provided by the Institute. For acting as a literal garbage man, he looks pretty chipper. ]

What's the word? [ He gestures to whatever goods they're sorting through. ] Think they'll pass biohazard infection?

[ Isn't this fun? He's having the time of his life. He's fine!

B. Investigating the area. The crime scene itself is the obvious place to start looking for clues to track down the persons responsible for the attack. Word spreads quickly through the guard that they're looking for individuals tattooed with an "M" on their wrists, so he'll address anyone still lingering nearby, looking over his shoulder and hiding his mouth with his hand - he's very...stealthy... ]

Hey...sorry to bug, but - did you happen to see anyone leaving this area around bomb o'clock today?

[ Yep. Still fine! ]

II. CHASING CRIMINALS.

[ Evidently, his investigating does turn up some promising leads, and Prompto is hot on the heels of one of those suspected associates, which he tipped off with his presence far too early and gave the woman a generous headstart. He's pursuing on foot, leaping between vehicles and over stalls - sometimes more gracefully than others - and if he weren't caught up in this, if this weren't so personal for him, he'd probably take a moment to appreciate the fact that he might kind of look like a badass right now.

But he doesn't allow himself that much, and he pursues the suspect to a tall, threadbare building that looks like it might collapse with a single gust of wind. The woman starts to scale it, and, okay, that looks pretty cool, too, but he's come this far. He's not about to lose her trail now.

So he grabs the closest person, frantic as he turns them to face him: ] How good are you at climbing?

[ And then adds, a moment later after glancing between the building and whoever he's grabbed: ] I'm super sorry about this!

III. TENDING THE ILL.

[ If you didn't know any better, you might think Prompto some sort of crazed, overly-enthusiastic delivery man the way he carts around the city on a bike with a basket filled with soup containers. Where did he get a bike? He probably let a kid hold his gun so he could borrow it for the day. It's not important.

Anyway, that's just what he's doing, zipping across Olympia and ferrying the ambrosia of all illnesses, chicken noodle soup, to his friends - and hell, even one-time acquaintances - in need. He'd been quick to contact just about everyone he knows as the news of the sickness spread, to make sure they were okay, and depending on their response, he tabulated them for future reference. That future reference is now, and he's ringing doorbells, dropping off soup, and by and large wearing a much more genuine smile than he has for days.

It's...hard not to, when he's helping people, even if they might not really need his help.

He can also be caught in between stops, catching a breather on lesser-traveled corners, pulling out his camera to flip back through his photos. He has to go back a considerable way before he reaches his pictures from Eos now, a fact which is so bittersweet it has his eyes glassy, but he grins reflexively at the smiling faces that greet him on the little screen.

With a quiet sigh, he murmurs: ] Hang in there, guys...

IV. WILDCARD.

[ Have something else in mind? Hit me up! I can also be reached on Plurk at retroscape for plotting! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're a generous soup fairy, my man. [ she takes the container, cradling it carefully so it won't hurt her hands, with a good natured smirk. ] Thanks.

How are the sickies doing by the way? No one dead yet?

[ Soup fairy...he's gonna add that one to his resume, right below "chocobo whisperer".

A laugh slips out of him, but it's somewhat uneasy. ]

They're, uh...they're hangin' in there. Stickin' it out much better than I would in their shoes, that's for sure.

Oh man, I feel that. Whenever I get sick, it's a damn disaster. My nose becomes a factory for snot. Can't imagine what it'd be like if I caught that plague shit. [ she sighs. ] ...How about you? I mean, you're ok, right?

[ what is asking people about how they are doing?? ermes is usually so busy being a pissed off mess that she doesn't always remember how to be considerate. ]

[ Maybe it's something about Ermes' demeanor, about how blunt and straightforward she is about all this, that makes that question far easier to answer honestly. He doesn't have to sugarcoat it for her benefit, so he doesn't.

He groans, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. ]

Uhhh, negatory. Things really suck pretty majorly right now! [ ...Wow. And it actually feels pretty damn good to just admit it outright like that. Hey, appropriately expressing feelings works, how about that. ]

I'll stick it out, though. Someone's gotta keep the soup biz rollin'.

All by yourself, though? You don't got like, soup fairy helpers? [ she crinkles her nose, thinking of an appropriate term... ] Chicken soup... cherubs... no, wait those are tiny angels. Damn.

Soup minion? Soup....nions? Soupnions. [ No, that still sounds dumb, but honestly he's not going to come up with anything better. ] But - nah, no soupnions or otherwise. This is an unofficial, one-man operation.

[ Unless she's volunteering?? But imposing is the last thing he wants to do to someone right now. ]

[ well, buddy. she isn't. she considers it, but she's too worried about catching the sickness herself. she pops open the lid to the soup and sips a little, humming in satisfaction. ]

Not bad. Though I prefer mine with extra salt. [ it's closed again, wanting to preserve it for a little later. ] Hey Prompto... why are you doing this? I've seen the way you shoot - shouldn't be, I dunno, gunslinging around?

Right! Nothin' like a little extra sodium to spice things up. [ Or burn off your lips.

At her question, though, his posture tightens, even as he leans back on his heels, like he's trying to look relaxed but can't quite manage it naturally. ]

I, uh...been doing a bit of that, too. [ He shrugs a shoulder. ] Guess I thought I could make more of a difference this way.

...I don't get it, but hey, whatever floats your boat. [ she doesn't get what bringing soup to people does, other than maybe cheer them up? he isn't even getting paid for it though. ] Plenty of people running around doing that - me included actually. I wanna get some of that bounty for myself. Hope this bullshit gets resolved soon though.

[ Cheering them up is exactly what it does, and making people smile...well, nothing makes him more satisfied than that, no matter how well he might shoot. ]

Y-yeah, no kidding. The city's a hot mess! You gotten any closer to figuring out what the deal is with those "M" guys?

Mhm. All I know is they work for the guy whose responsible, but that's old news. [ she sighs. ] Some of them have like superpowers though! A friend and I chased one down the streets and I swear the man was like a speedy gonzalez. But she shot him up with a web and I doubled my feet for extra speed and we called it a day.

[ #jojos ]

[ He nods, thoughtful. ] Yeah, I fought one with my buddy that kept disappearing into smoke and -

[ And then he...plays back what she said in his mind again. Because...what? ]

Um, come again? You...doubled your feet? Like, size-wise, or...

No, like doubled my feet, as in gave myself an extra pair of feet attached to my ankles! It worked out a lot better than I thought it would actually. But then my feet were fucking swollen for a day and that wasn't fun.

[ a beat. ]

Oh, I have a power to duplicate things. It's dope.

[ He looks at her blankly for a moment, like he's still processing what that would even look like, but you know what, he's seen a lot of weird shit in his lifetime, an extra pair of feet isn't that strange, all things considered.

So: ]

Dude.

That's bitchin'.

Pfffhahah! [ she laughs because she can't help but be a little surprised. ] Dude. Bitchin?? Here I was thinking you were a good, clean, wholesome boy Prompto!

[ Where would she get that idea, was it from his love of giant, fluffy birds, or the fact that he's delivering soup to sick people out of the goodness of his heart... ]

What, you sayin' this look doesn't say "total badass" to you?

[ It's meant to be self-deprecating. He knows, he knows... ]

Hm. Maybe if I touched up your hair, pretty boy. Right now you're like a boy band member without his pack. A... Nick Carter. Yeah, that's the one.

[ A boy band member without his pack...SHE HAS NO IDEA HOW TRUE THAT IS. ]

Never heard of a Nick Carter, but if he's anything like me, he must be a pretty cool dude! [ He puts up a hand. ] No hair-touching, though. I have it juuuuust the way I like it.

Hey I feel ya. Hate people who try to touch the hair. [ usually she just. whips her hair braids and smacks anyone in range right in their face. it's produced hilarious results. ] Don't worry pretty boy. I won't tell anyone you said a bad word.

Ha! Guess it's our little secret, then. [ Like the embarrassing person that he is, he winks. ] I'm glad I ran into you, Ermes. You're pretty rad, you know that?

What... shut up! [ she punches his arm, almost like second instinct, because she's not at all used to receiving compliments. ] Hmph. You're not bad yourself.

[ Um, ow??? But the punch is sort of endearing. It reminds him of something Gladio would do, anyway. Actually, come to think of it, Ermes and Gladio have a lot in common... ]

Hey, I'll take it. If you need anymore soup, you know who to call.

[ OPEN ] ❝ and i don't want to talk about the world ❞

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