Prompto Argentum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hashtag_chocobro) wrote2022-06-22 04:43 am
hashtag_chocobro) wrote2022-06-22 04:43 am
Somewhere in the Tundra of Tenebrae; ??????, ??/?? ET [06/22 FT].
Well, this was a fine mess that Prompto had gotten himself into now, wasn't it?
When he finally came to, he didn't know where he was. He didn't know how long it had been. All he did know was that he'd awoken in some shack, freezing his ass off, but there were warmer clothes that provided some small relief. He didn't know how he gotten there or what he was doing there, and the pain in his entire body reminded him of the last thing he did remember: Noctis all but pushing him off the train, while Ardyn stood behind him, beaming from ear to ear.
Outside the shack, there was nothing but an endless stretch of tundra and snow. Inside the shack, just those warm clothes, a few supplies, and that was it. It didn't exactly leave him with very many options. And even if he'd felt more confident about trying to contact Noctis or the others, his phone was dead, anyway. His choices were, apparently, to just stay here and freeze to death, or venture out into the unknown to try and find out whatever he could...
...and also probably freeze to death in the process.
But at least he'd be trying.
It was incredibly slow going, though, the whole world turned white and blinding by the blowing snow. Prompto felt like his bones had turned to ice as he trudged forward across the frozen wasteland, the fierce and biting winds cutting straight through him. Ice clung to his hair, his nose, his fingers. He lifted an arm to try and protect himself from the blowing wind and snow, each step more painful and forced than the last. Frost clinging to his lips, his eyelashes. Once again, he found himself wondering why did he even bothered? Why did he keep pushing himself forward? It would be so easy...to just curl up...to close his eyes...let the elements take him, once and for all...
Who would even miss him, anyway? Obviously not Noct, he had tried to kill him! Almost succeeded, too, and that look of pure hatred (and even worse, disgust) in his eyes on the train followed him through the tundra. Gladio was always saying that he was slowing them down, and Ignis...well, Ignis was just too cordial to say the same, probably. And Liz...Liz probably...
It surprised Prompto that he still had tears left, after all of this, to freeze to his cheeks the moment they escaped his eyes. With shuddering breaths so cold they practically burned in his lungs, though, he kept going, despite all that.
He had to keep going.
Because he'd promised he would. It might be futile. It might be hopeless. It was possible that none of them even wanted him anymore, but at least no one could say he'd given up. No one could say he didn't try.
But his steps staggered. His body felt too heavy to carry. He could barely keep himself upright. But there were faint outlines of towers in the far distance, he could see the stout outline of a building or a cluster of buildings on the horizon. If he could just make it that far, he could maybe find somewhere to warm up. He could figure out where he was. He could figure out what to do next. He just had to keep going. He promised. He promised....no matter what...
He promised. He...
A shuddering breath, rattling as it froze in his chest, shook out of him as he swooned into the snow again. A grunt as he hit the ground, pounding a fist into the hardened earth. He tried to push himself up, staggered forward a few more steps, looking out toward his destination. The wind stopped whipping long enough for him to look...
"No," he rasped out, realizing that what he hoped had been buildings just turned out to be an outcropping of trees. But that was still shelter. Except that new inspiration had only carried him a few more steps before his knees gave out, and he was back in the snow. On his hands and knees, he let out a desperate sob into the ground. Rolled himself back to his knees, tossed his head back as he knelt in the snow and felt the sobs coming, unbidden, all over again.
They almost came out as laughs, crazed and desperate. Maybe he wouldn't die out here. Maybe he'd just go crazy instead.
"C'mon, Prompto!" he growled at himself, firm and harsh and reprimanding. "Get it together!"
But the words only managed to rally him for a fleeting seconds.
"What a way to go," he sighed out, shuffling and swaying toward the trees in the distance. He'd survived the harsh winters before, at Fandom. That one year, there'd been that Snowpocolypse. With the power outages and the snow monsters. He'd managed to pull to survive that! He should be able to survive this!
But back then, he'd also had Sidon with him. He'd had Vette. He'd had Nina.
And now? There was no one. Not Noctis. Gladio. Ignis. Liz. Yang...
...no one.
He didn't even have his own strength, as the last bit of energy finally seemed to drain away from him. He dropped to his knees again, his entire body suddenly overwhelmingly heavy, hitting the snow with a soft twump. And then the rest of him followed, until his face was buried in the snow and he wondered if these would finally be his last breaths.
Was he ready to embrace it? Finally?
He thought he was, but something inside of him was still fighting, despite himself.
Then, there was a soft whirring sound overhead. At first, Prompto thought he'd imagined it, or perhaps he was hearing things, those first strains of madness finally reaching to him and getting into his brain. He struggled, but he managed to open his eyes again and to lift his head, wincing at the light shining down from an Imperial transport overhead and slowly lowering toward him.
"Ara….Aranea?" he gasped out, hopefully, but the soldiers where dropped from the side of the dreadnought were not the fierce lancer and her trusty men, but armored magitek soldiers. Guns in their hands, they circled around the shivering body in the snow, inspecting it carefully, almost thoughtfully. He tried to appeal to them, to say something, but only a guttural sound managed to wedge itself out of his throat.
Even if he could speak, what would he say? Even if he could move, what would he do? He just hoped whatever they did to him, they made it quick, and put him out of his misery, once and for all.
He tried. Gods, but he tried. But once again, one more, trying just wasn't going to cut it.
Prompto felt the sway start to take him, as a radio crackled at one of the MT's collars. He didn't hear what was said. All he really knew was an odd sense of surprise, really. He expected the darkness to just come slowly creeping in on him, but, instead, it was all just the bright, bright, searing bright white of the snowy tundra around him.
[[ just a little snippet to get us going with the beginning of Episode Prompto, To Be Continued full swing tomorrow with....so, so much spam. You've been warned. Prompto's episode make Gladio's and Ignis's look like babies ]]
When he finally came to, he didn't know where he was. He didn't know how long it had been. All he did know was that he'd awoken in some shack, freezing his ass off, but there were warmer clothes that provided some small relief. He didn't know how he gotten there or what he was doing there, and the pain in his entire body reminded him of the last thing he did remember: Noctis all but pushing him off the train, while Ardyn stood behind him, beaming from ear to ear.
Outside the shack, there was nothing but an endless stretch of tundra and snow. Inside the shack, just those warm clothes, a few supplies, and that was it. It didn't exactly leave him with very many options. And even if he'd felt more confident about trying to contact Noctis or the others, his phone was dead, anyway. His choices were, apparently, to just stay here and freeze to death, or venture out into the unknown to try and find out whatever he could...
...and also probably freeze to death in the process.
But at least he'd be trying.
It was incredibly slow going, though, the whole world turned white and blinding by the blowing snow. Prompto felt like his bones had turned to ice as he trudged forward across the frozen wasteland, the fierce and biting winds cutting straight through him. Ice clung to his hair, his nose, his fingers. He lifted an arm to try and protect himself from the blowing wind and snow, each step more painful and forced than the last. Frost clinging to his lips, his eyelashes. Once again, he found himself wondering why did he even bothered? Why did he keep pushing himself forward? It would be so easy...to just curl up...to close his eyes...let the elements take him, once and for all...
Who would even miss him, anyway? Obviously not Noct, he had tried to kill him! Almost succeeded, too, and that look of pure hatred (and even worse, disgust) in his eyes on the train followed him through the tundra. Gladio was always saying that he was slowing them down, and Ignis...well, Ignis was just too cordial to say the same, probably. And Liz...Liz probably...
It surprised Prompto that he still had tears left, after all of this, to freeze to his cheeks the moment they escaped his eyes. With shuddering breaths so cold they practically burned in his lungs, though, he kept going, despite all that.
He had to keep going.
Because he'd promised he would. It might be futile. It might be hopeless. It was possible that none of them even wanted him anymore, but at least no one could say he'd given up. No one could say he didn't try.
But his steps staggered. His body felt too heavy to carry. He could barely keep himself upright. But there were faint outlines of towers in the far distance, he could see the stout outline of a building or a cluster of buildings on the horizon. If he could just make it that far, he could maybe find somewhere to warm up. He could figure out where he was. He could figure out what to do next. He just had to keep going. He promised. He promised....no matter what...
He promised. He...
A shuddering breath, rattling as it froze in his chest, shook out of him as he swooned into the snow again. A grunt as he hit the ground, pounding a fist into the hardened earth. He tried to push himself up, staggered forward a few more steps, looking out toward his destination. The wind stopped whipping long enough for him to look...
"No," he rasped out, realizing that what he hoped had been buildings just turned out to be an outcropping of trees. But that was still shelter. Except that new inspiration had only carried him a few more steps before his knees gave out, and he was back in the snow. On his hands and knees, he let out a desperate sob into the ground. Rolled himself back to his knees, tossed his head back as he knelt in the snow and felt the sobs coming, unbidden, all over again.
They almost came out as laughs, crazed and desperate. Maybe he wouldn't die out here. Maybe he'd just go crazy instead.
"C'mon, Prompto!" he growled at himself, firm and harsh and reprimanding. "Get it together!"
But the words only managed to rally him for a fleeting seconds.
"What a way to go," he sighed out, shuffling and swaying toward the trees in the distance. He'd survived the harsh winters before, at Fandom. That one year, there'd been that Snowpocolypse. With the power outages and the snow monsters. He'd managed to pull to survive that! He should be able to survive this!
But back then, he'd also had Sidon with him. He'd had Vette. He'd had Nina.
And now? There was no one. Not Noctis. Gladio. Ignis. Liz. Yang...
...no one.
He didn't even have his own strength, as the last bit of energy finally seemed to drain away from him. He dropped to his knees again, his entire body suddenly overwhelmingly heavy, hitting the snow with a soft twump. And then the rest of him followed, until his face was buried in the snow and he wondered if these would finally be his last breaths.
Was he ready to embrace it? Finally?
He thought he was, but something inside of him was still fighting, despite himself.
Then, there was a soft whirring sound overhead. At first, Prompto thought he'd imagined it, or perhaps he was hearing things, those first strains of madness finally reaching to him and getting into his brain. He struggled, but he managed to open his eyes again and to lift his head, wincing at the light shining down from an Imperial transport overhead and slowly lowering toward him.
"Ara….Aranea?" he gasped out, hopefully, but the soldiers where dropped from the side of the dreadnought were not the fierce lancer and her trusty men, but armored magitek soldiers. Guns in their hands, they circled around the shivering body in the snow, inspecting it carefully, almost thoughtfully. He tried to appeal to them, to say something, but only a guttural sound managed to wedge itself out of his throat.
Even if he could speak, what would he say? Even if he could move, what would he do? He just hoped whatever they did to him, they made it quick, and put him out of his misery, once and for all.
He tried. Gods, but he tried. But once again, one more, trying just wasn't going to cut it.
Prompto felt the sway start to take him, as a radio crackled at one of the MT's collars. He didn't hear what was said. All he really knew was an odd sense of surprise, really. He expected the darkness to just come slowly creeping in on him, but, instead, it was all just the bright, bright, searing bright white of the snowy tundra around him.
[[ just a little snippet to get us going with the beginning of Episode Prompto, To Be Continued full swing tomorrow with....so, so much spam. You've been warned. Prompto's episode make Gladio's and Ignis's look like babies ]]