[Oh....He's missed a few of those, hasn't he? Prompto's been busy hiding in shame, ever since enough of his changes happened to make wearing any kind of shirt impossible. He'd rather live in bed under a blanket!]
Oh um. I've been sick. Yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you. Hahahahahha! Can't make today either oops! : (
There's no direct reply. Instead, about ten minutes later, Ravus is simply entering the house, walking right to Prompto's door, and rapping his metal knuckles on the door frame to announce his presence. As if the heavy gait of his boots and clinking of various belt buckles wasn't loud enough, echoing down the hall.
Prompto really thinks he got away with it, and for a little time, sighs in relief in his bed, drawing the covers over his annoying horns and his annoying spikes and his annoying, awful, painful deformed lumps on his back, and the extra annoying sail fins between them, too. All of it. It makes him too exposed, keeps him from being able to wear enough clothing to cover the body he was already so insecure about. He doesn't think his (...are they his?) scales or spikes are ugly per se- the lumps are unnerving, especially as they begin to pull and stretch his skin in unnatural ways in an attempt to form into wings- but being forced to go practically shirtless is just far, far too much for the conscious blond.
It was why he's been skipping out on training, despite hating doing so. He can't stand the thought of people seeing his body.
Bang, bang, bang
Prompto jolts. It sounds like metal on wood. He suddenly realizes that, oh shit, the clinking of metal before it was not some stress-induced auditory hallucination.
It was Ravus. Some deep part of him receives an alien wave of satisfaction over that, despite his first instinct being to groan aloud. Was that Sjerit? She only has a moment or two of the blond's attention. Something else is about to steal it away with aplomb. When he peeks out from under his blanket, slitted blue eyes go absolutely huge. He squeaks, and nearly topples forward out of the bed entirely. Prompto only just manages to balance on the edge, covered by his warm armor. The outfit Ravus is wearing gives him a front-row view of his plush chest, and his hips.
He's- oh, wow.
"H-huh? Look sick? You can't even see me!"
Prompto feels the equivalent of an exhausted eyeroll from within.
"I see plenty." Ravus says cryptically, head tilting to the side and leveling Prompto with an unimpressed look. "The fact you are still so active, and Ignis did not stop me on the way in, is proof enough." If he notices Prompto's oogling, he doesn't give any indication. Which likely means he's not even aware that is what's happening here. Instead, he presses Prompto.
"Why do you insist on foolishness? You were doing persistently well at our previous sessions, so why give in now?"
Prompto tries not to get too wound up in the swell of pride the praise from Ravus about their previous training sessions causes. He can do that again, too, prove himself and get stronger, and, oh Ravus, that outfit, and-
No, no no no. This isn't right! He sure as heck can't just go anywhere like this. But Ravus clearly isn't going to take his excuse. Finally, with a sad sigh, Prompto gives up the hiding part of this ruse. He lifts the blanket from himself, at least enough so Ravus can see the mess. Two deformed lumps that seem to be attempting to form wings painfully push from each shoulder blade, surrounding a set of two light-copper sail-fins that run from neck to tailbone. He of course has full horns, a set of four that curve from his head, but of greater note is the smattering of scales and spikes littering his shoulders and other areas of his body.
"I uh. Can't wear much, like this. People can't- I don't want to be. Seen. Without enough to cover me."
His eyes are sad, a little fearful, and worst of all: defeated.
Ravus watches the various blankets and sheets fall away to reveal the drastic changes that have come on quickly for the blond. Last he'd noted, those spikes hadn't been nearly so intrusive, and the scales are much thicker where he can see them rising from Prompto's skin.
Glancing down at himself, Ravus can't say he's surprised. The changes are becoming more rapid, evolving and growing like a virus that infects them all. He can't say he's altogether pleased about the more intense changes like the long tail set with neural spines. Or the fact most of his belly and groin are now covered in dense, plush fur that he must brush and maintain. The horns are seriously causing him neck cramps too.
But for all the changes, Ravus has simply... Dealt with it. What more can he do? He's never much cared how anyone has viewed his body, but it seems that isn't the case with Prompto. A twinge of guilt plucks at his heart seeing just how much it's hurting him too. The boy wears his emotions like all the gaudy patches on his favorite vest.
Subconsciously, his tail lashes, thumping against the door frame.
“You are concerned your changes may be even less appealing than anyone else?” Ravus tilts his head, genuinely curious where this stems from. “If so, I assure you, none who judge you will have any grounds to stand on. And if they thought to trouble you over it, I would defend your honor to the last. Whatever your appearance, your character speaks far greater of you.”
The thump of a thick, muscled tail against the doorframe makes the skittish Prompto jump in place a little, enough that he accidentally drops the blanket fully. He's shirtless, and thankfully in a pair of boxer shorts on (or the closest approximation he can have, in this world). His wing-nubs twitch, causing him to wince before the panic really sets in. Now Ravus sees him. He might also note the obvious stretch marks all along his belly.
He yelps, snatching the blanket back up to tighten around him- which only presses against all his new appendages and draws out a choked, pained cry from his throat. Prompto takes a moment to steady his breathing and focus on it, close, closer, until he can think again past pain and panic.
"No, it's not that..." But. Wait. Did Ravus just say he would defend his honor? Like an entire knight from a high fantasy movie? Why the heck does the intensity of it crash into him like a bowling ball to the chest? The conviction behind those words is tangible. Prompto genuinely needs a second to catch his breath before he continues.
"I don't want people to see me. My..." His voice takes on an edge of disdain. "My body. I don't wanna miss training, big man. Even if everything hurts so bad. But that means going out there with nothing on up top, cause of all this weird spiky stuff."
There's a distinct lack of reaction from the silver, at first. Prompto is a flighty thing, and Ravus has ultimately learned to tamp down base reactions to that in general. Beyond that, his gaze flicks only briefly to follow the falling of the sheet, but doesn't linger on any one spot on Prompto for very long. His gaze is evaluating, but objectively. There are scars, and spines, and scale marks that define him now, and Ravus makes note of them internally. Maybe somewhere he notes that the scars are distinct, and perhaps more than expected. Things to ask about later, because Ravus does tend to find the stories of scars interesting (and if he were more honest with himself: attractive).
What does move him is that fact Prompto keens as though he's in pain. Just as his lack of reaction a moment ago had been instantaneously decided, so is this. Ravus is quite suddenly at Prompto's side, concern in the furrowed line of his brow. Ravus hadn't believed the sick angle earlier, but he hadn't accounted for potential growing injuries from the rapid changes to their bodies either. After all, his own have ripped open a good portion of his back and spine. As is typical of himself though, Ravus has not bothered to acknowledge the discomfort.
"I had not realized you felt so strongly about this." He doesn't quite understand the disdain in Prompto's voice, but if it's enough to cause such distress, Ravus doesn't feel right bearing the guilt, and forcing Prompto to continue. He's a strict instructor, but he's not Drautos.
Still, in the back of his mind, Thul rumbles about being too soft. A thought Ravus feels more than hears. Ravus' own thoughts push back against the heavy thunderheads of Thul's personality. Yet instead of resistance, he feels compromise. Something he voices aloud to Prompto.
"If training would cause more harm than improvement, it is wasted time and effort. Best to conserve your strength, in body and mind, then. Still, you should not wallow and let yourself be mired in misery. We can find somewhere private to at least get you fresh air and some stretching. I will not allow anyone else close, unless you deem yourself fit."
Orrrr I could go out on a run and just worry about food later >: ) !!!! lol
[Playing with fire. Literally, here. Prompto knows better.]
Okay, like, I get what you are going for here, right, but that does not make it any less WEIRD as HECK to see, dude! Come ON. I am so allowed to cringe.
At any rate, I am not wholly sure you do understand it, but very well. I simply thought it best to counter your reaction for when you saw it on your own.
What, that ur trying to mess with him? I mean, yeah, clearly. I would just assume u were hacked or in trouble if I saw it myself before u said anything, lol? That or planning something like the strategy pro u are ig.
But ur rly gonna keep a guy from running? Gotta upkeep my physique! Get the good brain chemicals from moving around, bla bla bla! ; )
[Actually, it really upset him. Logically Prompto knew Ardyn was doing his thing and trying to stir shit. But it still struck a nerve for the boy to where he had to go on a pretty long run and try to clear his head. Too many emotions at once.]
What, so taste of his own medicine or smth? That still is messing with him lol!!
Prompto, I have a few questions that require your input. Would you be willing to meet me at the north shore of the river?
Ravus is already there, sitting amidst the smooth pebbles that make up the slope towards the river. They're notably cooler with the damp moss bedding wedged between them, and Ravus is using the moderating breeze off the river to keep cool. This heat is just not for him.
But he's wearing a concerned frown that's far too serious, even for him, as he looks out at the water. Something is clearly troubling him, and those questions he wondered about probably have a lot to do with it.
Course dude! Lemme make space in my uber busy schedule- aaaand done! Omw ;p
Prompto never leaves his loved ones waiting, not if he can help it. Ravus, a very loved one, is no exception. As the man gazes over the water with a severe look, the blonde dashes into view, skidding to a stop that, were it any other human beholden to gravity, would probably end with him careening right into the water. Prompto, somehow, ends up right next to Ravus instead.
He frowns a little at the larger man's severe look, the reflexive worry of his that's already gnawing at his stomach doubling down. He reaches a hand out (and up) to gently place it on Ravus' shoulder...Before leaning his entire body against his side.
"Heyas, big man. What's on your mind? Your knight in shining armor is here with answers!"
Normally, he'd at least acknowledge the blond's antics. Instead, he watches, and simply waits for Prompto to settle at his side. When he does, Ravus lifts his arm to drape it over Prompto's shoulders, and hold him close. Knowing he's allowed these sorts of touches means he hesitates far less these days to return tactile affection. And right now, he feels like he needs it.
"You barely wear anything resembling armor," he says flatly. It's Ravus-coded for teasing, though, with the way his expression softens in fractions. Sadly, it can't fully fish him out of the mire his mind has sunken into. "But... as to my questions. I'm afraid it's rather serious. I wanted to talk to you about the Long Night, if you're up to it."
Prompto snuggles right up against Ravus' side at the feeling of that heavy arm draping around him, the weight reassuring and comfortable and inviting him to be as tactile as he always tends to be. Once comfortably nestled in, he snorts amd gives Ravus a toothy grin. "You aren't looking hard enough, I totes wear armor!"
The blonde can feel a shift in the air as the silver mentions the lead-in to what's on his mind. His expression falls, settling to one much more somber. The Long Night. The apocalypse. The place where Prompto was plucked from, three years into his heartache and loneliness. In his world, Ravus never even got to see that hell. The thought of his final, tortured moments makes Prompto's stomach curdle.
"Yeah, I can talk about it. What didja need to know?"
"I was speaking with Charlie, about the lich that was mentioned in his warning. I've been informed liches here are more dangerous than the daemons I have seen before." He takes a moment to rest his cheek against Prompto's head, his thoughts straying to the apparent danger Lunafreya and Ignis were in just by being near him when he touched the phylactery. The idea of, even unwittingly, putting his loved ones in such peril just means he feels the need to cherish them even more.
"But I began to wonder," he goes on, "with how you've spoken of the Long Night, perhaps you had encountered daemons and monsters worse than I have? At some point we may have to defend ourselves from something worse than I know not yet how to contend with. I don't wish to put any of you in jeopardy by being unprepared."
Prompto's entire demeanor...Droops when Ravus mentions the Long Night. As much as it always weighs on the anxious blonde's mind, he's been trying to ignore it. Enjoy the here, the now of Town, of this world, dangers and all. A world where Noct is still there.
A world where Ravus yet lives. Where he and his beloved journeymates didn't have to kill him, as a mercy. It makes Prompto's stomach crawl, remembering the way the silver begged to be stricken down. The horror of finding out about the letters he wrote, and the sword he held onto for Noct- painfully humanizing elements of an old foe, found far too late. Proof of the man Noct always said Ravus Nox Fleuret once was.
Prompto's voice is somber. Eerily so, when he speaks.
"Yeah. I fought plenty of daemons. Real nasty ones too, the kinds of things big hunting parties would have to tackle- but it isnt impossible, just dangerous. I might not be the best help at tellin' you about how to take them out. Usually I just read whatever research other hunters brought around. Plus... A lot of the time....I was being careless on purpose."
Those last words hang in the air like lead. Prompto averts his eyes in shame.
"Anything you can tell me is better than my current ignorance." Ravus practically feels the way Prompto deflates against him, and he has to swallow the bitter tang of guilt, seeing what the topic does to his usual ball of sunshine. If it weren't important, he'd drop it altogether. But being informed may help Ravus protect him and the others. If he has to cause discomfort now to spare Prompto true pain, he can justify prodding the blond for more information.
At least, until there's an abrupt swerve in his attention.
"Prompto." Ravus says, that all-too-serious voice sharpening like a blade on a whetstone. Though for all the edge to it, held tight in his throat as he looks down at the blond, the worry under it is hard to miss. He doesn't force Prompto to look at him, but keeps his mismatched gaze level on him. "To carelessly throw your life away..."
The sharpness in Ravus' voice sees Prompto snapping to attention, though there is not a snowball's chance in Hell that he can keep his eyes on those mismatched ones with the guilt that flares up from a smolder to an outright burn. Shame. Guilt. That gaze pierces through him with a ferocity that drags them to the fore.
"...Yeah. I guess I almost did, huh. One time almost got there, but someone found me and patched me up."
Poor Talcott was beside himself the entire time he sewed Prompto up with a field kit. Prompto only remembers his tear-stained face, with how his consciousness flickered so much at the time. How the boy kept speaking at every turn, as though even a moment of silence threatened to snatch the blonde away.
Prompto's shoulders shrug up towards his ears, as though he is attempting to hide beneath that gaze. He looks down to the grass below. "I know it was stupid. Just...There wasn't all that much left for me in the world. Iggy and Gladio were out of my life, and Noct..." He shakes his head. "Who knows when he'd be back. Or for how long, before he-"
The boy physically winces. He hates having to think about it. In his here and now, Noct is back. Best to treasure that time. Much the same could be said for Ravus, who-
"No chances with you, in my time either."
Which will make going home to that hell all the more difficult. The guilt of Ravus' death so much heavier once reality shifts back. Prompto cannot say he hasn't agonized over the way that guilt has compounded since getting to know the silver. The what-ifs, of how he could have been saved constantly rattling about in his mind.
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[Text] @nightknight
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Oh um. I've been sick. Yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you. Hahahahahha! Can't make today either oops! : (
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"You do not appear sick."
TITS FLASHBANG
It was why he's been skipping out on training, despite hating doing so. He can't stand the thought of people seeing his body.
Bang, bang, bang
Prompto jolts. It sounds like metal on wood. He suddenly realizes that, oh shit, the clinking of metal before it was not some stress-induced auditory hallucination.
It was Ravus. Some deep part of him receives an alien wave of satisfaction over that, despite his first instinct being to groan aloud. Was that Sjerit? She only has a moment or two of the blond's attention. Something else is about to steal it away with aplomb. When he peeks out from under his blanket, slitted blue eyes go absolutely huge. He squeaks, and nearly topples forward out of the bed entirely. Prompto only just manages to balance on the edge, covered by his warm armor. The outfit Ravus is wearing gives him a front-row view of his plush chest, and his hips.
He's- oh, wow.
"H-huh? Look sick? You can't even see me!"
Prompto feels the equivalent of an exhausted eyeroll from within.
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"Why do you insist on foolishness? You were doing persistently well at our previous sessions, so why give in now?"
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No, no no no. This isn't right! He sure as heck can't just go anywhere like this. But Ravus clearly isn't going to take his excuse. Finally, with a sad sigh, Prompto gives up the hiding part of this ruse. He lifts the blanket from himself, at least enough so Ravus can see the mess. Two deformed lumps that seem to be attempting to form wings painfully push from each shoulder blade, surrounding a set of two light-copper sail-fins that run from neck to tailbone. He of course has full horns, a set of four that curve from his head, but of greater note is the smattering of scales and spikes littering his shoulders and other areas of his body.
"I uh. Can't wear much, like this. People can't- I don't want to be. Seen. Without enough to cover me."
His eyes are sad, a little fearful, and worst of all: defeated.
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Glancing down at himself, Ravus can't say he's surprised. The changes are becoming more rapid, evolving and growing like a virus that infects them all. He can't say he's altogether pleased about the more intense changes like the long tail set with neural spines. Or the fact most of his belly and groin are now covered in dense, plush fur that he must brush and maintain. The horns are seriously causing him neck cramps too.
But for all the changes, Ravus has simply... Dealt with it. What more can he do? He's never much cared how anyone has viewed his body, but it seems that isn't the case with Prompto. A twinge of guilt plucks at his heart seeing just how much it's hurting him too. The boy wears his emotions like all the gaudy patches on his favorite vest.
Subconsciously, his tail lashes, thumping against the door frame.
“You are concerned your changes may be even less appealing than anyone else?” Ravus tilts his head, genuinely curious where this stems from. “If so, I assure you, none who judge you will have any grounds to stand on. And if they thought to trouble you over it, I would defend your honor to the last. Whatever your appearance, your character speaks far greater of you.”
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He yelps, snatching the blanket back up to tighten around him- which only presses against all his new appendages and draws out a choked, pained cry from his throat. Prompto takes a moment to steady his breathing and focus on it, close, closer, until he can think again past pain and panic.
"No, it's not that..." But. Wait. Did Ravus just say he would defend his honor? Like an entire knight from a high fantasy movie? Why the heck does the intensity of it crash into him like a bowling ball to the chest? The conviction behind those words is tangible. Prompto genuinely needs a second to catch his breath before he continues.
"I don't want people to see me. My..." His voice takes on an edge of disdain. "My body. I don't wanna miss training, big man. Even if everything hurts so bad. But that means going out there with nothing on up top, cause of all this weird spiky stuff."
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What does move him is that fact Prompto keens as though he's in pain. Just as his lack of reaction a moment ago had been instantaneously decided, so is this. Ravus is quite suddenly at Prompto's side, concern in the furrowed line of his brow. Ravus hadn't believed the sick angle earlier, but he hadn't accounted for potential growing injuries from the rapid changes to their bodies either. After all, his own have ripped open a good portion of his back and spine. As is typical of himself though, Ravus has not bothered to acknowledge the discomfort.
"I had not realized you felt so strongly about this." He doesn't quite understand the disdain in Prompto's voice, but if it's enough to cause such distress, Ravus doesn't feel right bearing the guilt, and forcing Prompto to continue. He's a strict instructor, but he's not Drautos.
Still, in the back of his mind, Thul rumbles about being too soft. A thought Ravus feels more than hears. Ravus' own thoughts push back against the heavy thunderheads of Thul's personality. Yet instead of resistance, he feels compromise. Something he voices aloud to Prompto.
"If training would cause more harm than improvement, it is wasted time and effort. Best to conserve your strength, in body and mind, then. Still, you should not wallow and let yourself be mired in misery. We can find somewhere private to at least get you fresh air and some stretching. I will not allow anyone else close, unless you deem yourself fit."
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Leatherwork and ....SURPRISE BASEBALL
Re: Leatherwork and ....SURPRISE BASEBALL
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text; @shu
Any particular preferences for dinner? I think I would rather do something besides a stew tonight, but I am all for alternative thoughts.
Un: Chocobro
[Ignis can probably hear Prompto let out something between a distressed, disbelieving yell and a groan from a room or so over]
Seriously? What kind of strategy even is this!? Nah, man, I think my appetite is shot, now....
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[Why is this a threat-]
At any rate. I really did expect better of you, Prompto. I thought you would be more than familiar with what reaction trolls most desire.
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[Playing with fire. Literally, here. Prompto knows better.]
Okay, like, I get what you are going for here, right, but that does not make it any less WEIRD as HECK to see, dude! Come ON. I am so allowed to cringe.
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At any rate, I am not wholly sure you do understand it, but very well. I simply thought it best to counter your reaction for when you saw it on your own.
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But ur rly gonna keep a guy from running? Gotta upkeep my physique! Get the good brain chemicals from moving around, bla bla bla! ; )
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And it isn't merely to mess with him. Rather, did you see his reply to Noct?
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[Actually, it really upset him. Logically Prompto knew Ardyn was doing his thing and trying to stir shit. But it still struck a nerve for the boy to where he had to go on a pretty long run and try to clear his head. Too many emotions at once.]
What, so taste of his own medicine or smth? That still is messing with him lol!!
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[text] >>> [action]
Ravus is already there, sitting amidst the smooth pebbles that make up the slope towards the river. They're notably cooler with the damp moss bedding wedged between them, and Ravus is using the moderating breeze off the river to keep cool. This heat is just not for him.
But he's wearing a concerned frown that's far too serious, even for him, as he looks out at the water. Something is clearly troubling him, and those questions he wondered about probably have a lot to do with it.
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Prompto never leaves his loved ones waiting, not if he can help it. Ravus, a very loved one, is no exception. As the man gazes over the water with a severe look, the blonde dashes into view, skidding to a stop that, were it any other human beholden to gravity, would probably end with him careening right into the water. Prompto, somehow, ends up right next to Ravus instead.
He frowns a little at the larger man's severe look, the reflexive worry of his that's already gnawing at his stomach doubling down. He reaches a hand out (and up) to gently place it on Ravus' shoulder...Before leaning his entire body against his side.
"Heyas, big man. What's on your mind? Your knight in shining armor is here with answers!"
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"You barely wear anything resembling armor," he says flatly. It's Ravus-coded for teasing, though, with the way his expression softens in fractions. Sadly, it can't fully fish him out of the mire his mind has sunken into. "But... as to my questions. I'm afraid it's rather serious. I wanted to talk to you about the Long Night, if you're up to it."
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The blonde can feel a shift in the air as the silver mentions the lead-in to what's on his mind. His expression falls, settling to one much more somber. The Long Night. The apocalypse. The place where Prompto was plucked from, three years into his heartache and loneliness. In his world, Ravus never even got to see that hell. The thought of his final, tortured moments makes Prompto's stomach curdle.
"Yeah, I can talk about it. What didja need to know?"
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"But I began to wonder," he goes on, "with how you've spoken of the Long Night, perhaps you had encountered daemons and monsters worse than I have? At some point we may have to defend ourselves from something worse than I know not yet how to contend with. I don't wish to put any of you in jeopardy by being unprepared."
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A world where Ravus yet lives. Where he and his beloved journeymates didn't have to kill him, as a mercy. It makes Prompto's stomach crawl, remembering the way the silver begged to be stricken down. The horror of finding out about the letters he wrote, and the sword he held onto for Noct- painfully humanizing elements of an old foe, found far too late. Proof of the man Noct always said Ravus Nox Fleuret once was.
Prompto's voice is somber. Eerily so, when he speaks.
"Yeah. I fought plenty of daemons. Real nasty ones too, the kinds of things big hunting parties would have to tackle- but it isnt impossible, just dangerous. I might not be the best help at tellin' you about how to take them out. Usually I just read whatever research other hunters brought around. Plus... A lot of the time....I was being careless on purpose."
Those last words hang in the air like lead. Prompto averts his eyes in shame.
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At least, until there's an abrupt swerve in his attention.
"Prompto." Ravus says, that all-too-serious voice sharpening like a blade on a whetstone. Though for all the edge to it, held tight in his throat as he looks down at the blond, the worry under it is hard to miss. He doesn't force Prompto to look at him, but keeps his mismatched gaze level on him. "To carelessly throw your life away..."
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"...Yeah. I guess I almost did, huh. One time almost got there, but someone found me and patched me up."
Poor Talcott was beside himself the entire time he sewed Prompto up with a field kit. Prompto only remembers his tear-stained face, with how his consciousness flickered so much at the time. How the boy kept speaking at every turn, as though even a moment of silence threatened to snatch the blonde away.
Prompto's shoulders shrug up towards his ears, as though he is attempting to hide beneath that gaze. He looks down to the grass below. "I know it was stupid. Just...There wasn't all that much left for me in the world. Iggy and Gladio were out of my life, and Noct..." He shakes his head. "Who knows when he'd be back. Or for how long, before he-"
The boy physically winces. He hates having to think about it. In his here and now, Noct is back. Best to treasure that time. Much the same could be said for Ravus, who-
"No chances with you, in my time either."
Which will make going home to that hell all the more difficult. The guilt of Ravus' death so much heavier once reality shifts back. Prompto cannot say he hasn't agonized over the way that guilt has compounded since getting to know the silver. The what-ifs, of how he could have been saved constantly rattling about in his mind.