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

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[ 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! ]

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[ A Huntsman's nose always has to be sharp, and being given an opportunity to literally hunt down criminals is not something Qrow could pass up. It seems that his senses lead him to the same building where Prompto is. His weapon is active and in its greatsword form.

Before he could do or say anything, though, Prompto's apologising????? ]

What?

[ TIME IS MOVING SO FAST. ]

[Yona isn't sick yet.

Or, rather - she's not willing to admit she's sick yet. Sure, she feels a little shaky, but that's just... nerves, probably. It's nerve-wracking to keep going into an area after it's already been attacked once! And if she's wheezing a little, well, that's just because she's out of shape and not used to this kind of work.

(Not that sorting through goods that were out in the open air is especially taxing work, but...)

Her expression is a little sad as she starts sweeping some really cute pastries into a trash bag. If eating them wasn't such a monumentally stupid idea that even she knew not to do it, she'd be tempted to spirit them away and snack on them later.]

I don't think so... they had these set out as free samples when it went off. It's such a shame.

[ WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON.

First there was a woman sprinting by who nearly knocked him over, which was already concerning enough -- and then before he could decide to follow her or not he's being grabbed by this guy?? Who seems legitimately freaked out but??

Congratulations, Prompto. You grabbed a circus acrobat turned shounen protag complete with ridiculous powers so he can probably do that pretty easily. However: first you must get him not to balk. ]

Hah?? [ SHOULD HE BE HELPING YOU OR THE WOMAN, BOTH OF YOU ARE PRETTY SKETCHY.. ]

[ she isn't expecting a knock on the door — Robb and Theon are out, as is Jon, and Arya... who knows where she is. with things as they are, Sansa wouldn't be surprised if her entirely family was out there, seeking whoever caused this with vengeance in their hearts.

even though it's likely not a good idea, answering the door, she does it anyway, her eyes widening in slight surprise when she sees a blond head and a smiling face behind it. ]

Ser Prompto? What brings you here? [ she hesitates to invite him in... mostly because she fears anyone spending time with her for too long, now. ]

[You, too, is trying to help where she can. She's trying to do whatever she can-- even if it isn't much-- to stave off the feelings that she's being a drag or a drain or a burden.

For her part, it involves carrying big wheelbarrow-fulls of fresh linens to places that need them, and wheeling dirty ones out to be cleaned. She's got a fresh load, thankfully, when she catches someone else stopping for a breather.] --ah! Prompto!

[ Well, X’rhun’s poking around a bit himself, because the scene of the crime really is the best place to start. But… come on dude, how could you not recognize this outfit? ]

Prompto! Thank the Twelve. It’s good to see you well, my friend.

[Victarion was doing as good a job as he could to now draw attention to himself. Primarily this meant he was keeping a hood on and wearing a thick jacket over chainmail and leather hauberk. He was on his own hunt, though not for this woman in particular. Nor was it for the boy who had made the mistake of grabbing him by the sleeve. He recognizes him in an instant.

And immediately retaliates by going for the throat and push the boy into the wall.]

Not as sorry as you will be, boy.

[Through the devastation and flurry of activity walks a man in white. He isn't volunteering his help, per se, but whenever someone asks him directly to move a beam or take a bag of ruined goods, he does so with floating arms and a blank expression. He doesn't mind lending assistance, he just doesn't offer it without being asked first.

And so now he's helping clean up a stack of bread rolls by scooping them into a bag he'd been provided because the baker who'd made them happened to spot him milling about and got rather cross about the young man just looking when he could be helping. And when Prompto approaches with his own bag, Yaha-kui zaShunina looks up at him, expression blank, and shakes his head.]

The food here was downwind of the explosion. There is a 90% chance of contamination.

[Wow, you are less stealthy than Mantis and that's an accomplishment. (Actually, no, don't feel too bad. Mantis has a lifetime of blending into the background to help her out here.) Whoever Prompto is trying to pump for information is just going to have to wait; Mantis seemingly slips in from nowhere and takes his elbow, urging him to come along with her.]

I have been looking for you. [Not really, but it's an opening and she's gazing at him with an expression that practically begs him to come along with her.]

[ tThe second she heard about the bomb going off, she felt her heart fall into her gut. Prompto is in the market district and naturally, she finds herself running over there -- okay, she's 'blinking' all the way over there. ]

Prompto! Are you okay, love? [ Her face is somewhat pale as she finds herself blinking right in front of him, looking even a little out of breath -- she had to run and use her ability to get here quickly (and not overuse her power). Already, Lena she is checking him over like the mother hen she can be. ]

[They just keep running into each other, don't they?

Perhaps it's to be expected, given their shared association with the royal guard. It's almost to the point of being a mundane thing, crossing paths with Prompto on occasion -- a laughable thought, given how things were back on Eos at the time. Still, he approaches when he sees the young man flipping through photos on his camera. If he startles him when he speaks, mere feet away, it isn't his aim, but nor is it his concern.]

You've been busy.

[Ardyn idly reaches out the grasp at the handlebar of Prompto's bike, which rests nearby. Look at all of that chicken noodle soup.]

Reminiscing? [He doesn't even have to guess at what the young man is looking at. His expression says it all for him.]

9S is trying to get some readings on the debris from ground zero. He's pretty focused right now, crouched low with one hand stretched out. He doesn't have his holoscreen up out of respect for the natives - it sometimes freaks them out - so he looks like he's staring at the ground pretty hard while wearing a blindfold.

He looks up when he realizes someone's talking to him, but can't help but blink in confusion for a moment.

Bomb o'clock? Uh... [ Figure of speech, buddy. It takes him a moment. ] Oh! I wasn't here when that happened.

[ Aranea picked a shitty place to start her business. Her warehouse was full of displaced people and she's out in the streets trying to scout for more. She didn't want to spend all her time of the day directing people, but Prompto catches her in a good moment because she doesn't sound annoyed at least. ]

There were a lot of people. [ He's going to have to give the deets. Show you mine if you show me yours. ] It's been a flood of people all damn day.

Dude, what the hell is up with you?

[ ermes asked, maybe with a little too much of an edge, when she spots prompto catching a breather on the side of the road. she's been running tired too, albeit for different reasons. she isn't dealing with the sickly, out of fear of getting ill herself, so she's been working on hunting down anyone associated with the attacks. that, and the refugees involved too, but they're a smart bunch.

and she wouldn't ask so rudely, but he looks pretty spent and there's a bike nearby with a basket? the hell has the gunslinger been up to? ]

[She's seen the blond blur zipping up and down in front of the Institute a fair few times now, but though she recognizes the boy from the fight club, she doesn't call out to him. She's too busy working on a few things of her own, things relating to the illness - but even scientists need a break. Heading out for a cigarette, she nods in greeting as he dismounts his bicycle and catches his breath.]

Mr. Argentum. Keeping busy?

[Mipha has also been making house calls, mostly to those who might be too injured to go to the Sanctuary themselves. So Mipha is, literally, bringing the healing to them.

She's tired--things have been so busy she's hardly been able to sleep, but there's too much to do to waste it on that right now. She can sleep properly once everything's died down and a cure is found. Right?? Right.

She catches Prompto on the corner, stopping short as she rounds it to avoid crashing into him.]

Oh! Prompto? Are you alright? [She glances from him to the camera and then around them in curiosity, clearly wondering if there was something around here he was trying to photograph]

Are, are you serious?

[ He sees the entire debacle coming his way before he's even grabbed. He's made it a point to not get involved in virtually anything going on, especially since he has no reason to. Which is why he's so keen on staying out of this, despite the urgent look sent his way. ]

If you want to play hero, don't involve me in it.

[Despite having only been residing in Olympia for a few weeks, Goku had gotten to know many of the merchants as well, particularly the ones who sell food items. He would often come to the Market District to stock up on snacks and the like, always complimenting the cooks and bakers on their treats.

He hadn't been in the district when the bomb had gone off, but as soon as he'd heard that the Market District had been hit and where in need of help cleaning up, he'd raced right over. Digging through the wreckage and garbage isn't the most glamorous part of the job, but Goku doesn't seem to mind it as he digs into the trash...barehanded and sorts through it. He's been given a respirator as well, but it hangs loosely around his neck rather then covering his mouth. He's never gotten sick before so the idea that his health is potentially at risk here escapes him. Help.]

There's lots of junk here, but most of it seems ta be in okay shape. [He points to a pile of trinkets, jewelry, and knick-knacks he's dug up.] But I don't think any of the food can be eaten now. [And he sounds oddly depressed about this.]

[ Even when it feels like it can't any longer, life goes on.

For how long each day seems as it crawls by, Alisaie getting weaker and weaker as Wyver's shamans and healers work with Olympia's scholars to create the cure, Prompto has lost track of how long it's been since they arrived here. Has it been a week? Two? Each moment feels like a blur, and his difficulty distinguishing the days is only exacerbated by how little sleep he's let himself claim. A few dreamless moments here and there, peppered across the days since they arrived in Wyver - since the day Alisaie took a turn for the much worse. How can he let himself sleep when she's as sick as she is? In a moment, things could get worse - somehow, it's still possible - and he isn't going to miss a crucial change in her condition because he's sleeping. Once this is - once it's all over, he can rest then. But not until.

Besides - even at those times where he's so precariously close to falling asleep that he lets his thoughts slip, his mind is whirring through his doubts and uncertainties so fast that he could never hope to rest. Is he doing enough? (He's not doing enough.) Should he take her to the healers? (He's been selfish.) When would this end? (Will it end?) There's no reprieve to be found, save for in those precious moments when she's still lucid enough to talk to him, to remind him why he can't despair. But even those are becoming fewer and fewer.

It's morning again, too early that anyone should be stirring, but Prompto is. Alisaie is resting, and so he's taking the opportunity to wash out some of the dishes they've been using. Or, well...that Prompto has mostly been using, since it's been increasingly difficult for Alisaie to eat anything. It's a mind-numbing task, and so welcome for it, even though after a few minutes of scrubbing bowls under the warm water, he starts to doze off, one arm serving for a pillow for his heavy head while the other is still in the sink.

WHOOPS. ]

[ Really, Prompto should have expected this the moment he'd heard they'd be carting off to Wyver in carriages, and being a member of the Guard, he'd be one of the last to board. That only made sense - it's a part of the job, and he's happy to do it, all the better for being told what to do rather than being left to his own devices. But that also means the Guard is the last to load up, and knowing his luck...

He's stepping into a carriage with Ardyn.

Before he even sits down, he's craning his head back out the window, shouting to any passersby. ]

Hey, anyone wanna trade seats? This one, uh - smells kinda rotten!

[ Unsurprisingly, no one is falling over themselves to trade him seats with a selling point like that. Damn, he should have said it was where they were keeping all the rations. He doesn't have time to change up his story for anyone else, though, because a moment later, the carriage driver is pulling the cab into motion.

So. This is gonna suck!! ]

[ It's been one hell of a week, and Prompto's nearly going out of his mind with worry. Actually, "nearly" might be too forgiving. Alisaie's condition has steadily been getting worse and now she hasn't been conscious for days. The city is still completely foreign to him, and he doesn't have the Guard to keep him occupied here. The cure still isn't ready. It all just keeps piling up, and he feels like he knees will buckle under the weight of it all at any moment.

So it's thanks to his frantic mind and exhaustion that he hasn't done this sooner. He'd told Lance he'd catch up with him after they got to Wyver, but he'd neglected to do that much yet. Man, some friend he is. He's not the only one who has problems they're dealing with right now, and he hasn't been there for his buddy the way he should have been.

He won't blame Lance at all if he doesn't answer. It's why he texts instead of calls. Less obligation. Easier to ignore, if Lance chooses to. ]

hey man
how've you been?
still killing it like always? :)
sorry i've been kind of out of it
but if you want to catch up now i've got
lots of free time on my hands

[ So much free time. ]

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