Room 303; Monday Afternoon [04/15].

The last few days had been kind of a whirlwind, trying to get used to the idea of this tiny little person that was apparently his and Yang's supposed future daughter, while simultaniously spoiling her rotten, taking about a million pictures, and teetering on the edge of asking a zillion questions, because Prompto had them, he had sooooo many of them, but every once in a while, Lulu would say something (such as "It's nice to hear you laugh so much, Dad. I mean, like, really laugh" or at one point where she just sort of smushed his face and asked if grinning like that all the time made his face hurt) that made him think that there were answers in there that he might not really want to know. And Lucy, for the most part, was all brightness and sunshine and excitement that even he had trouble keeping up with...until suddenly, she wasn't, and she was serious and thoughtful in a way that was a little bit startling and disturbing on a face so young and so cute.

So Prompto tried not to think about it and he tried to do what he did best, which was deflect and distract with some shopping trips and getting some food and some candy (so, so much candy, and don't tell your mom, okay? She'll kick both our butts), and then back to his room to play some video games ("How are you even this good?" "Eat space dust, Old Man!"), and, when that got a little boring, Lucy found the container of spare parts and electronics that Prompto kept around when he wanted to tinker around with stuff, and quickly started sorting through them until the room was pretty much covered with them and she was quietly working away at putting stuff together, with occasional bursts of talking about how this was kind of like this one thing she made with Aunt Ruby, and this was like this one thing she'd made with him and her mom, and this was kind of like what she wanted to make for herself, but she still wasn't convinced she wanted to stick with ranged attacks because melee weapons were just soooooooo much more interesting. And big. Really, really biiiig.

Prompto's own tinkering wasn't going nearly as productively, since he was spending most of the time still stuck in that slack-jawed fascination that hadn't left him since Saturday morning.


[[ door and post are very, very much open! ]]