hashtag_chocobro | Room 303; Thursday Afternoon [12/12].

Oh, man! What a week! Prompto was definitely feeling like he'd been through the wringer a few times and then some, but it was all sort of an oddly good feeling, too, because the training had been tough, and the subesequent mission that followed had been nerve-wracking and stressful, but they did it, and they'd done it well, and it was hard not to feel totally accomplished and maybe, just maybe...feeling like this all wasn't just some big mistake and he really was on the right path, he really would make an excellent Crownsguard, even if he was miles and miles behind Noctis and Ignis and Gladio and everyone else. Maybe he actually did belong there after all.

He was riding that high a little bit once he finally got back to Fandom, relieved to finally get a little bit of R&R after all that rigerous training. At least, he hoped so, because, knowing Fandom, he'd probably tumble straight out of training and into chaos, though he hoped whatever he did find was just more of the holiday silliness that Nina had ~~oh-so-handwavily~~ kept him updated on through multiple texts and messages and videos. He was almost a little disappointed to not run into any cute beverage-distributing bears or squirrels in santa hats on his way back to the dorms, but, at the same time, he felt a little too tired to have truly appreciated it, anyway.

"Ahhh," he sighed as he burst into his room, threw aside his bags to take care of later, and then just headed straight for his bed, where he did a little turn before plopping down onto it with an even deeper, more content sort of sigh. "Dorm sweet dorm..."

And he was just going to revel in that moment for a bit, before pulling out his phone and shooting off a few texts to interested parties to let them know that he was back, and then he tucked his phone away and just stared at the ceiling and enjoyed not moving for the very brief amount of time he suspected he'd have before a certain sister came bursting through the door. He had to cherish this little blip of peace and quiet while he could.

[[ because I'm ready to have at least someone back! Door and post are open! Feel free to mod getting a text if'n you like! I may be a bit slow here and there but I've missed you guuuys ]]

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Prompto....could not contend with that fact, as he never had seen a stormtrooper fire, and, for the most part, he was feeling fine with that fact, considering the only stormtroopers he even knew about were the ones at the station.

"Okay," he amended, "most people, even if they're a terrible shot, will still probably hit something, unless they're stormtroopers, apparently. Either way, you get the point. Not a jinx. Just inevitable."

"There has to be a way to test this."

Sabine no.

SABINE.

"Why would you want to test that?"

Seriously, it was bad when Prompto was being your Voice of Reason, Sabine!

"I didn't say I want to, it's just an idea," she lied.

This was nowhere near the worst idea she'd ever had.

"An idea that sounds like it's just inviting trouble," Prompto noted. "You think me jinxing it bad, just wait until you try actually quanitifying this sort of thing."

"I posed a hypothetical!" she protested.

"As did I," Prompto countered, with maybe a bit more confidence in that sweet little turn-around than it really warranted. "A hypothetical. Not a jinx."

"We'll see about that," Sabine said, vaguely.

"Uh-huh." Prompto gave Sabine a wry look. "My bet's still on it being the island's fault when something goes weird or wrong, not the last person who complained about it."

"And how do we know it's the island's fault?" See! This was why she wanted tests!

Hypothetically!

"How about this?" Prompto proposed. "In the slim chance that I actually do manage to cause something crazy to happen around here, I'll totally fess up to it. I mean, geez, the whole thing with the vampires mostly happened because me and Norman took down that force field, but, I'll bet you anything, nine out of ten times, it's probably something to do with the island."

"That does work if it was your jinxing that did it," Sabine agreed.

She might start a chart.

"You're the one who said it was a jinx in the first place," said Prompto. "Before then, it was just a complaint. So how do we know it's not your fault for calling it a jinx, then? That makes just about as much sense, you know."

And a chart would be, like, organized jinxing, by her own logic!

"I'm calling your jinx a jinx. That's blaming me for calling something what it potentially is," she reasoned.

"But it's not a jinx!" At this point, Prompto just sort of had to laugh that this was even a conversation. "Me saying something weird is going to happen around here is about as much a jinx as saying 'there's going to be weather tomorrow' is a forecast."

Sabine sighed, and stuck her hands on her hips.

"I don't even remember what the jinx was now," she admitted.

"Neither do I," said Prompto, his grin particularly crooked now, "especially since there wasn't one."

It probably had to do with the snowmen, though, but he wasn't about to say that.

Just in case it actually was snowmen again.

Room 303; Thursday Afternoon [12/12].

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