I want to ride my chocobo all day!

Prompto had been so focused on the communicator and the dozens of wires and connections leading in and out of it to the control panel in front of him that he almost didn't hear Aranea entering. He did, of course; it was so quiet inside the fortress that each step echoed, and when she set the heavy canister on the desk, it clunked and sizzled in a way that finally pulled his attention away.

"It wasn't easy," she reported, giving the canister with its glowing electric energy inside a small pat with her hand, "but I found one, buried deep in Costlemark. You ever been there? Place is a nightmare."

Prompto grinned faintly at that. "Well," he said, "if there's anyone who could handle it, then, it's definitely you, Aranea." He went a little quiet for a moment, looking at the canister and feeling a tight clench in his stomach at the possibility of it actually working....with the likelihood that he was chasing after an impossible thing looming heavily over it. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," she said, tilting her head a little bit as she looked back at Prompto, with that steady, discerning gaze that always made him squirm a bit uncomfortably. Like she could just see right through him. And, with everything they'd been through together in Niflheim....she probably could.

( Hey, blondie. Looks like you got something on your chin. )

"Get a fucking razor," she concluded, moving her hand now to pat his cheek before she pulled away and started heading toward the door, lifting a hand in a wave goodbye.

"See you around, Shortcake," she called out, and it was all Prompto could do but stare after her for a good, long moment, before he could even remember what he'd been doing.

Cleared his throat, which now felt exceptionally tight and dry, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat to turn his focus back on the communicator, and the energy canister now beside him. "Right," he said, to no one but himself now at the control panel. "Communicator. Fandom. Energy reserves. We got this." Letting out a long, slow breath. "Back to work...."

[[ AND THUS THE BEARD HAS OFFICIALLY LANDED. It's a very important landmark moment in my elaborate filling-in-the-ten-year-timespan blanks, and, yes, there actually had been a point to turning Gladio into a plant after all. NFI, NFB, OOC always welcome, *presses on the fast forward button even harder now* ]]

Nothing quite like a frantic race through a frozen wasteland with guns and missile launchers shooting at you the whole time to really cap off an entire existential crisis. If anything, having to plow through hordes of MTs and trying to control the vehicle underneath him as it hit outcroppings of rock and sped along trenches and over rock formations provide and excellent distraction, fueled by the adrenaline and the desperate need to just get away from the facility and all he'd be leaving behind within it.

But, eventually, he had to stop. And when he did, there was nothing left to keep it all from rushing right back to him.

( At least he had a vehicle now, and a potential ally, and a possible rendezvous point.--CW for self harm )

She let that linger a moment before she released him, pushing back his head as she did so and crawled off of him. And what could Prompto do but lay back against the cold, hard ground, remembering how to breathe again, as Aranea stepped over him and left him there to wallow in that question.

"I'm going after the new model in the morning," she informed him. "You're on your own now, kid."

Prompto waited, laying still as if paralyzed, until he was sure the sound of her boots had retreated entirely, before pulling himself up from his sprawled position with a groan.

What did he want? What was he after?

They were very good questions, and he thought he knew the answer, at one point. But now? The answers he had just seemed too incredibly insurmountable to even be possible.


[[ and finally, part 4 of 4 of today's batch of Episode Prompto! More to come tomorrow, and thanks to everyone who's stuck through/skimmed up through this point! You know you're in for it when literally every post comes with a CW.]]