As soon as he had Liz's hand in his, Prompto gave it a little squeeze, as he shrugged. "Not really," he said, "they're pretty normal. We just don't...really see each other a lot..."

And, with that, he lead her to the living room, where Prompto's parents were in the middle of a conversation, voices lowered, which stopped abruptly once they made their appearance, their attention shifting toward Liz. For the most part, 'pretty normal' seemed to cover it extremely well; the most remarkable thing about them, really, seemed to be that they really didn't look anything like Prompto himself, their features darker, their builds bulkier. Prompto let go of Liz's hand to fidget a little with the wrap covering his barcode apprehensively, reminded of how obvious it was that he was adopted, where he was adopted from, the newer knowledge of why...and then gestured.

"Mom, Dad," he said, "this is Liz. Liz...my parents."

Prompto's mother's smile was warm and pleasant and she offered out her own hand. "Hello, Liz, darling, it's so nice to meet you finally."

"We've been hearing so much," added his father, who ignored the faint scoff from Prompto, who was kind of wondering when a few texts and brief conversations became 'so much'.