"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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"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..."
no subject
"...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.