photoshooter: (SCARED πŸ“· No no no...)
Prompto Argentum ([personal profile] photoshooter) wrote in [community profile] awashlogs2018-11-03 10:01 pm

πŸ“· [QUEST CATCH-ALL] You're dripping like a saturated sunrise

Who: Prompto Argentum and, for Quest 32: Ignis, Summer, and Noctis; for the fallout of Quest 35: OPEN!
Where: Quest 32: Bluohaus and his hideout in Flavo; Quest 35: out and about Chroma
When: November 3rd to November 12th
What: Prompto throws himself into the grateful spirit, but when illness is the thanks he gets, he goes a little... grey about the gills.
Warnings: Gross black stuff disease, Final Fantasy XV spoilers (probably),

NOV. 3RD TO NOV. 5TH: QUEST 32

[The minute Prompto sees the quests pop up on the forum, he knows what he has to do. Finally, a quest he can totally, absolutely get behind! Not only does he understand the sentiment, but of course nothing bad can come of it, ever.]

i. your little brother never tells you but he loves you so (ignis)

[In some ways, Iggy's the easiest, because all the things Iggy does for them reveal what's important to him, too.

Prompto sneaks out of bed early--very early--to tiptoe to Bluohaus's common area. There, he ties an apron around himself, clips his hair back, rolls up his sleeves, grabs a dust cloth, and nods.

By the time Ignis wakes, the kitchen nearly gleams, tidied and dusted and wiped clean and smelling of fresh coffee. Breakfast is ready, too: It's simple fare, toast and cheese and fruit, but it's warm and it's plated and it's waiting there for him. There's coffee. There's orange juice. And a few pressed sprigs of lavender have been placed in an extra mug to give some color to the table setting.

There's also a letter from Prompto.]


Dear Iggy,

Thank you SO MUCH for everything you do for us. We'd totally fall apart without you man!! You're smart and cool and levelheaded and you care so much I don't even know how you do it! (=^v^=) Thanks especially for remembering my b-day. I would've forgotten all about it and it means a lot that you went out of your way for me. You're the best!!! β˜†οΎŸ.*ο½₯q゚

(Sorry I didn't make breakfast for Noct or anyone else. I wasn't sure when they'd wake up but you're almost always up even before me. Consider this breakfast special just for you! (*οΌΎβˆ€οΎŸ)ъ)

-- Prompto


ii. you touched me and suddenly i was a lilac sky (summer)

[Summer's harder, if only because he has to factor in what girls like and what she, not just any girl, likes in particular, and what's okay to say and to give and what's not cool this soon--or is it even 'soon'? Is there, like, a trajectory? Is he overthinking this?

He's probably overthinking it.

Anyway, it takes him until later on the 3rd to come up with something, but he's pretty sure it's a nice idea.

Gathering the materials he needs doesn't take too long, and luckily, he's gotten pretty okay with a hammer and nails (heh, and wood) of late. He works on it behind their hideout in Flavo and only has to go inside once he's done to set it in a place of honor in the bedroom--where the sunlight will hit it in the morning, but where it'll stay warm and cozy inside.

It's a birdhouse, orange and purple paint mixed until he managed to get a friendly shade of red for the roof, padded inside with hopefully appropriate nesting material, twigs and miscellaneous fluff. Prompto was going to paint "JERICHO" above its entrance, but stopped when he realized he didn't know how to spell it.

So he painted "HOME" instead. He steps back, smiles at his work, and then goes to see if Summer's here. If Summer's home.]


Hello? Ace, you here?

iii. you were a vision in the morning when the light came through (noctis)

[Of course Noctis's takes the longest. What do you get the king who once had everything?

Prompto knows exactly what he wants to do. He's been thinking about it for weeks, actually. This is just an excuse to finally make it happen. Most of it he prepares at the hideout over the 4th, but it's easy to bring back to Bluohaus once he's done. It's easy to sneak back into the room just after dawn, when Ignis is awake but downstairs and Noct's still sleeping.

In the early morning light, he papers one wall of the room with drawings. But they're not drawings of just anything. They're amateurish, to be sure; Prompto's no sketch artist. But they're recognizable renditions of the best photos from his camera, moments of triumph, of friendship, of stupid poses in front of diners and sheer badassery in a sahagin's face, of the places they've visited and the faces they've loved. Over the last day or so, Prompto's drawn enough to cover a good section of the wall with memories of their journey. Of the good things that happened, not just the bad.

Only when he's arranged them all to his liking does he go to shake Noct awake.]


Hey. Noct, buddy. Can I show you something?

NOV. 5TH: QUEST 35

you're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece (summer)

[He doesn't even know where he's run to. All he knows is running, is having run. He squats somewhere cold, close to the trees. In the trees, maybe. His whole body's broken into a sweat, but he's shivering uncontrollably, wracked with horror.

He did that. To Noct. He just wanted to thank him for everything, for--for always being there, and.

He did that. Like he gave the flowers to Summer, he gave--that. To Noct.

Gulping for air and gasping out guilt, wishing he could throw up except there's nothing in his gut to expel, Prompto folds until his forehead touches ground, hands pressed over his face, like he can un-see what he did. Like he can disappear.

He makes a crying, choking sound with no words.]


NOV. 6TH-12th: QUEST 35 FALLOUT; OPEN

everything is grey: his hair, his smoke, his dreams (OTA)

[Today, a grey figure dressed warmly in black sits on the steps outside Bluohaus, dull-eyed and devoid both of color and movement. Only the breath that fogs out of his mouth shows any sign he's alive at all.

Sometimes, he stirs enough to take a walk, but his interest always seems to wane before he gets anywhere important. He stares at windows without really seeing them. His eyes follow a bird's movement without really registering it. He doesn't take out his camera.

With no yellow to color it, his hair's so pale a grey it looks almost white. His freckles are just light flecks of soot on his blank face.

Prompto Argentum's lost his color.]
whichcraft: time to illustrate the diversity of the word fuck (WHOOPS β™š oh fuck that was not optimal)

ii because i'm feeling it

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-04 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
[The worst part of getting sick, in Summer's personal opinion, is always the sore throat. The congested nose is rotten, of course, and so is the inevitable coughing and breathless wheezing near the end, but by and large the part she hates more than anything is the feeling of her throat on fire, the sensitive back burning sharp and raw. It makes it impossible to talk, impossible to swallow; it feels like there are thorns digging into the skin, scraping unpleasantly with each swallow and breath.

This isn't a sore throat, and yet that scratching feeling like thorns is still there anyway. There's no fever, no earache. But it scratches, like there's a sore throat coming, and she can't help but groan and lament it with anguished resignation.

...But that it never comes. The soreness never escalates beyond that odd thorny scratching. And so at first she thinks that's simply that, and maybe there's still a chance of fighting it off —

Except that as she swings her legs out of bed where she'd been relaxing and reading, and starts to get up to go in search of food, a wracking cough overtakes her, followed by a flutter of something wide and velvety in the back of her throat, and she has to cover her mouth as she chokes on it and tries to work it free.

When she pulls her hand away, there are wet pink petals against her palm.

She doesn't know what it means, or what could be happening, so she does what she always does when things unnerve or frighten her lately: she hurries to go find Prompto, pausing no less than three other times along the way to stop and choke up petals.]
nascere: (67)

iii

[personal profile] nascere 2018-11-04 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
[ Noctis has been feeling steadily sicker as the days had gone by, and he's not entirely sure why. The illness had been brief at first, lingering, and then eventually it had progressed into something that's horrified even Noctis. The transformation had been slow, gradual, but with every hour that passes he feels worse and worse, even his own potions and elixirs are unable to dispel it.

He's tried, of course, dreading it when he comes to understand just what it is, choosing to retreat to tend to himself. So he's hiding underneath the covers, resting and pale when Prompto comes to wake up. He curls into himself, recoiling from Prompto as he croaks. ]


Not now, Prompto... 'm tired.
whichcraft: and the ones that you wrecked won't take you back (FRAGILE β™š you're the last beautiful girl)

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-04 02:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Dunno...

[It's not very articulate, the response she gets out, but that's because that weird strangling tickling in the back of her throat is so preoccupying that it's hard to use her words. She's swallowing after every breath, trying to get it back down somehow, or at least enough to get a sentence or two voiced because she of all people knows how important it is to share good information as quickly as you can in a crisis.]

Something — feels like there's something stuck —

[She wraps her hand around the front of her throat in open indication, but doing it sets off another wracking cough and she's quick to release her neck in favor of covering over her mouth instead.

Pink petals again. And this time, a single smaller one along with them — a baby red one, like from a bud instead of a flower proper.]
whichcraft: wake up emo kids september's over again (MOODY β™š dear diary: still not king)

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-04 02:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Fuckin'...fairy-tale bullshit...

[She coughs again, hard, with some real throat-clearing action, and another few petals join the first in her hand but she eventually manages to get things freed up enough to function, at the very least.]

Real cute. Make it hard to talk...

[She grumbles, but doesn't fight him as he coaxes her down and starts to pet her. It actually does help a little, from the way it gets her to relax a little more, which prevents her throat and lungs from seizing up of their own volition and not just from the flowers.]

Just what I need.
nascere: (56)

[personal profile] nascere 2018-11-04 04:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Unsafe. Unsafe.

Noctis is quietly horrified, not sure why this is happening to him -- slowly but surely this virus will consume him, and what's left in its place is what they've always fought, and when Prompto brings sweet, innocent Sparky close, he very nearly panics.

He stays hidden, but he finds Prompto -- knee, perhaps, or shoulder, his arm darting out lightning quick to shove him away, frantic instead of angry, afraid for Prompto's sake. A sharp-eyed individual will, perhaps, have caught sight of the unpleasantly vivid Starscourge marks snaking up that arm before it swiftly retreats into that tense, tight little huddle.

Noctis hadn't been asleep, after all; he's sick. ]


No.
whichcraft: lord deliver me for i know exactly what i will do (PENSIVE β™š i am surrounded by idiots)

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-04 07:45 pm (UTC)(link)
I dunno. I was fine yesterday, and then all of a sudden today...

[She coughs a little again, whacking at the little hollow between her collarbones like that's gonna actually do anything.]

Real cute. I don't remember pissing off any wicked witches or evil fairies. But gagging up flowers isn't any medical condition I've ever heard of before.
whichcraft: the world might do me in but it's all right 'cause i'm with friends (SHADOW β™š now you see me now you don't)

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-04 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, I watched a show once where a kid ate a watermelon seed and it started sprouting inside him and his friends had to go dig it out before he exploded or something. Why am I thinking about something like that right now. Ugh.

[It's a good thought, though, to check in with Jerry. He's been following along with her dutifully, as he always does, but at her command he comes fluttering down from whatever out-of-the-way perch he'd been taking up and hovers a little awkwardly in midair in front of Prompto, seemingly waiting for a hand or arm to land on.

Which is interesting, considering that's, y'know. A part of her soul. And yet it gravitates toward him instinctively, instead.]


Probably a bad idea to chug weed killer, right?

[Jerry seems reasonably fine, though, which is probably indicative of the fact that however much of a nuisance the flowers might be at this point, they're not actively detrimental — yet.]
whichcraft: god the killers truly understand my soul (BURN β™š on the back of a hurricane)

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-05 12:44 am (UTC)(link)
None of the quests sounded like they had — gnack.

[Okay, that's like half a blossom this time, but at least it comes out relatively easily, without a lot of hacking required. Meanwhile, Jerry is doing that thing that birds do when they're bathing in a little cupful of water or in sand, fluffing up his wings and gyrating a little as he settles in comfortably to Prompto's hold.]

...Eugh. They didn't sound like they had anything to do with flowers. I mean, sphinxes, snuggling, gratitude...not really seeing a flower connection with all that.

[She grumbles a little, absently rubbing at her cheek.]

Dunno if it's contagious, either, but standard cursebreaker is a kiss, so...
nascere: (103)

[personal profile] nascere 2018-11-06 03:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Everything's wrong.

His heart hurts when Sparky squalls, knowing that distressed sound -- Noctis has never turned Sparky away before, and had often brought the little chocobo to bed so that he can nestle with him, for as often as he can get away with it.

But now, Noctis is hurting and afraid, because what if this illness takes over everything and he becomes no different? What if, what if --

Everything in him wants to escape before he can hurt anyone, but this is Prompto, and while he flinches from that touch to his shoulder, he doesn't shove him again, slowly pulling down the blanket to reveal the truth of his appearance. Ashen, fair skin darkened and marred with the Starscourge, his face already half given over to it, trails of ichor down formerly pristine cheeks. ]


You -- you have to get away from me.
whichcraft: lord deliver me for i know exactly what i will do (PENSIVE β™š i am surrounded by idiots)

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-06 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Mmmm.

[She closes her eyes when he kisses her, which is almost as emphatic a sign of trust as letting him hold her familiar; it's a very sweet thing, too, just a soft brush of lips on lips, a proper kiss to break a curse.

It's the kind of kiss that leaves her still for a moment after it ends, poised like a statue with her eyes still closed and her mouth just barely open, as though if she doesn't move then the spell of the moment won't break, and she'll be able to hold on to the feeling a little longer.

...And then petals rustle up and block the back of her throat, and the fairytale bliss shatters as she ducks her head and hacks a mighty cough into her hands.]


Uh. Signs point to no, I guess.

[Fairy tales. She wipes her mouth and scatters the handful of petals on the ground, trying not to grumble as she glances up and spots the gift for Jerry that Prompto had put so much time and effort into.]

...That's new. Did you make that?
whichcraft: time to illustrate the diversity of the word fuck (WHOOPS β™š oh fuck that was not optimal)

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-06 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh. You want to talk about knocking her for a loop? The little kiss that drops against Jerry's head visibly impacts her, resounding even more emphatically than when he'd actually just kissed her directly. It's probably only to be expected, though; he's a familiar, a part of her. Affection lavished onto him naturally runs far, far deeper than the kind that skims across her surface.]

...I think it's cute that you decided to thank me by building a birdhouse for my soul.

[She pauses a minute, then laughs a little.]

That sounds like a song, doesn't it? Or like it should be one, anyw— hang on —

[She ducks her head, winding up as if to cough again...and at length, looks up with an expression of absolute bemusement on her face.]
whichcraft: lord deliver me for i know exactly what i will do (PENSIVE β™š i am surrounded by idiots)

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-08 12:07 am (UTC)(link)
No, I'm...

[Hmm. That's more than a little bizarre. She frowns at her dry, empty hand, and then makes herself cough voluntarily, and checks it again.]

...Oddly un-botanical. For a minute it felt like I had petals in my throat again, but then they just...
whichcraft: the world might do me in but it's all right 'cause i'm with friends (SHADOW β™š now you see me now you don't)

[personal profile] whichcraft 2018-11-08 01:32 am (UTC)(link)
I...guess so? Weird, but. Hmm.

[Suspicious...]

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