Prompto Argentum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hashtag_chocobro) wrote2018-11-27 08:37 am
hashtag_chocobro) wrote2018-11-27 08:37 am
Entry tags:
Room 303; Tuesday Afternoon [11/27].
Prompto had a date.
And Prompto Argentum wasn't going to let some wire-chomping mouse cause him to miss out on a date.
Well, okay, it wasn't so much a date as it was that he'd made plans for a raiding night with Noct and Galdio during his shift at the C.I.C. that evening. Obviously, that exact thing wasn't going to be happening now, but he wouldn't let the current circumstances throw a big fat fried-mouse wrench in his plans and spoil something he'd been looking forward to since last week. Without an idea of how long the C.I.C. would even be out of commission, he had to think fast, act fast, and just be glad he'd been saving up his money instead of giving into the temptation to buy all sorts of new shinies every week.
He'd hooked himself up a preeeeetty sweet rig over there; he probably wasn't going to be able to perfectly replicated it in his room, but he knew he could cobble something together that would be more than efficient and satisfactory, and what his new room set-up lacked was easily something he could build on and improve on, and maybe he'd have an even better set-up given enough time and tweaking.
Setting it up had been pretty easy, too, that wasn't a problem. It was the set-up on the other thing he'd gotten that was giving him issues now.
Because of course he'd also gotten a pull-up bar.
And was realizing he had no real idea how to install it, which meant that he'd sort of delayed the original intention of the date with his bros back home, but they were still there on his phone as he tried to have Gladio (who he only knew hadn't died laughing yet because he was still laughing his butt off) walk him through it, figuring if anyone had experience installing a pull-up bar, it would be Gladio.
"You're just lucky," Prompto informed him loftily while making another attempt at what should honestly not be this difficult, maybe he got a cursed one or something, that seemed like it could be a thing around here, "you're not here right now, or else this pull-up bar would totally be re-purposed as a beat Gladio on the head bar.
"Not that there's anything up there to damage, anyway," he added in a murmur specifically intended to never be heard.
[[ door and post are open!! ]]
And Prompto Argentum wasn't going to let some wire-chomping mouse cause him to miss out on a date.
Well, okay, it wasn't so much a date as it was that he'd made plans for a raiding night with Noct and Galdio during his shift at the C.I.C. that evening. Obviously, that exact thing wasn't going to be happening now, but he wouldn't let the current circumstances throw a big fat fried-mouse wrench in his plans and spoil something he'd been looking forward to since last week. Without an idea of how long the C.I.C. would even be out of commission, he had to think fast, act fast, and just be glad he'd been saving up his money instead of giving into the temptation to buy all sorts of new shinies every week.
He'd hooked himself up a preeeeetty sweet rig over there; he probably wasn't going to be able to perfectly replicated it in his room, but he knew he could cobble something together that would be more than efficient and satisfactory, and what his new room set-up lacked was easily something he could build on and improve on, and maybe he'd have an even better set-up given enough time and tweaking.
Setting it up had been pretty easy, too, that wasn't a problem. It was the set-up on the other thing he'd gotten that was giving him issues now.
Because of course he'd also gotten a pull-up bar.
And was realizing he had no real idea how to install it, which meant that he'd sort of delayed the original intention of the date with his bros back home, but they were still there on his phone as he tried to have Gladio (who he only knew hadn't died laughing yet because he was still laughing his butt off) walk him through it, figuring if anyone had experience installing a pull-up bar, it would be Gladio.
"You're just lucky," Prompto informed him loftily while making another attempt at what should honestly not be this difficult, maybe he got a cursed one or something, that seemed like it could be a thing around here, "you're not here right now, or else this pull-up bar would totally be re-purposed as a beat Gladio on the head bar.
"Not that there's anything up there to damage, anyway," he added in a murmur specifically intended to never be heard.
[[ door and post are open!! ]]
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Heck, it was way more convenient not having to go in to town for it.
"Technical difficulties are the story of the week, huh?"
Hey, Prompto. Guess who was hanging out in the doorway, smirking a little, hands on her hips.
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Which, apparently, was the funniest thing in the world. And Gladio didn't laugh much, but when he did, it was loud, and Prompto just turned toward it with a little distasteful tsch, sweeping in to pick up the phone and put an end to it before he would up getting shit-talked on both sides over here.
"Heyguys, Igottago, I'llcallyouback, okay?"
One swift move of his finger, and he sighed with relief at the silence it dropped him into now that the call was ended, and then he looked at Vette in his doorway a little ruefully, giving the pull-up bar in his hand a shake in the air.
"This is a piece of garbage," he declared, tossing it on his bed for now because he was officially done with it. For tonight, anyway. "I knew I should have just splurged on a better headset instead."
No, you didn't, Prompto, otherwise you would have.
He sighed again, resetting his focus. "Also, hi, Vette. How's it going?"
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She shrugged.
"How about you?"
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He grinned a little and then shrugged, figuring out how to answer the return question. "I'm okay, I guess," he offered, truthfully enough, and gestured toward the new rig taking over the desk on his side of the room. "Spent most of today putting this together so, you know, me and the guys could still do...our run tonight. S'no way it would have been anything but lag-city on what I had before."
Especially not after getting used to his C.I.C. set-up. Probably all fried up to cinders now. He'd put so much work into that rig, some really brilliant work, too, if even he said so himself, and now it--
--nope. Not going to think about it. Thinking about it only made the pain of the loss that much deeper. He was determined to not let any of the news bother him. Or, at the very least, not let anyone know that he was kind of pretty much devastated.
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"So, you going to introduce me to the setup? How does it compare to the other one? We can talk paintball anytime - heck, now that I know where to go, I can take you and we can both kick butt at it. I wanna check out your new gear."
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He grinned a little lopsidedly, before shrugged and cocking his head toward his system, drifting over to show her. "Next step is getting a better chair," he said, as he pulled the current generic one back, "but I mostly wanted to focus on upping my specs and graphics on this current build. I mean, I couldn't do too much, this stuff is expensive, but that little severance helped a little. I mean, I was still able to
Blah blah blah tech nerd talk blah blah blah I know where the power button is! Let's pretend I would know what I'm talking about here for like a good solid minute, and then, check this out."At which point he flicked a switch on a control-panel looking thing off to the side, and now all the edges and the bottom of all the various monitors and controls and hardware started to softly glow, starting red and working slowly, placidly through all the colors on the spectrum, and Prompto looked like the proudest little computer nerd on the whole planet.
"It'll look cooler when it's dark," he added.
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... Plus a chair.
"Ooooooooh," she said, leaning in appreciatively to watch the colors shift. "That kind of reminds me of Nar Shaddaa, you know. All flashy lights and colors."
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Money that could have gone toward something a bit more practical, but come on! Pretty lights!
"And get a load of this," he said, pulling the chair back, plopping down into it, and going to pull up up a music file, something with a lot of bass and beats, to better show off how the lights responded to the sound.
...yeah.
That costed way too much, but he clearly didn't care.
Priorities!
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"Your... your game setup is a dance party, Prompto," Vette whispered, perhaps with a slight tone of awe. "That must look amazing when you're under heavy fire!"
She wasn't really a gamer, herself. But with a setup like this in her own room, she could be.
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"Heck yes I do," Vette agreed, brightly. "You need to break this thing in, right?"
And she could always make time for shooting things.
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"Oh, it won't be a little warm-up," Vette teased, and then threw one lek over her shoulder before depositing herself into the offered chair. "I'm gonna kick your butt!"
Maybe. She'd been given a lot of food for thought this past week and some change. She'd probably keep her head in the game, but there was no guarantee.
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On a completely new system that he hadn't really used quite yet. But had had built the system up mostly himself to resemble the C.I.C. one as close as possible with the resources available to him, though, so, yeah. Total home turf advantage.
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"Pride before the fall, Gunshow. I had a shooting contest with the dean yesterday. I'm sharp. Still all keyed up from recent experience."
She wasn't going to admit that they'd been shooting at twelve-year-olds.
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"Yeah," he said, grinning over his shoulder, "but did you win? And sound pretty proud of yourself there, too, Princess. I got the game we did last week; you wanna run that same map again?"
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It was funny, she'd always wished somebody would call her the same.
"I am always proud of myself," Vette informed Prompto. You know. In a bald-faced lie that she knew he wouldn't buy for an instant. Even so, she grinned and pointed a finger gun at him. "You bet I'll kick your butt at that map again. Let's see if a week's made any difference."
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Dead man walking, over here.
Again.
But he was determined to at least give her a run for her money.
"Pride before the fall," he chirped her words back at her, settling into his chair, kicking up his feet on the edge of the desk as he scrolled through the menues. "Pride before the fall, my friend."
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"Tell you what," she said, smiling sweetly. "After I kick your butt, I'll even help you hang that bar you tossed on your bed. As a consolation prize."
She adored you, Prompto, and tormented you to show she cared.
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It would be pretty sweet if it did, and he had way more of a chance than he was giving himself credit for, but he wasn't exactly counting on it.
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Fair deal, right?
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"I don't think anyone can get that bar up," he decided to admit, shrugging slightly. "It's cursed. And I see right through your intentions, Vette. So concerned with me getting my pull-up bar up. You just can't stop thinking about these guns and making sure they're fine tuned and ready for all those hugs."
Maybe with a little subtle flexing, which was completely unnecessary for the taxing action of pushing a button on his controller.
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Except that she had very important shooting to do.
"You've found me out, Prompto. I have pretty high standards when it comes to hugs. Gotta make sure you continue to fit the bill."
Nah. She would totally hug him no matter what.
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And Foomy was making ridiculously cute squeaking noises as he did so.
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Prompto maybe had to watch that video about three times before he could respond to it, while something very deep down in his core was very glad that he'd yet to ever hear of or encounter a Flan before.
For the love of puppies, he texted Nina back, help him!
What a weird feeling, to be confronted with that level of cuteness and thinking he wanted to go and help the poor little dude himself, but also to have a terrible knot twist in your stomach, thinking that helping him would likely only lead to making him bigger and stronger and more powerful, and then he'd just destroy them all.
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Baby steps here.
It took her a while to send a response to that, but her next video was the very short journey of Foomy clambering up a pad of stickies, then onto the book from that.
And his excited bouncing and rolling at being on top of the book for all of about five seconds before he rolled off of it.
Well, Foomy had tried.