I want to ride my chocobo all day!

Prompto had returned to Fandom in the wee morning hours of that Sunday, slipping by room 221 to leave a package all done up to look like it really had been airshipped overnight from Insomnia, and then he went to his room to hide out for a bit. He killed some time with video games, but he didn't check in on his kitty farm yet, because that could raise some flags. Had to be low key. He wasn't here, he was a ghost, just had to wait out the hours until that wedding was in full swing and hopefully, Nina and Vette were gone, so he could slip back downstairs and to the scene of his crime-to-be.

Dragging with him a very large and surpringly heavy duffel bag and a few tools that he'd need to set this all up.

He paused, listening carefully at the door for any sign of activity from within that wasn't sleepy-kitty or jelly-daemon related. All quiet. Good. Eeeexcellent. So he got to work on picking the lock, wishing his was better at it because it was going to be kind of awkward explaining this to anyone who might come out into the hallway unless everyone was at the wedding. But he got in, and he slipped in quickly, and he looked around to hush Foomy and Miss Dozy with a finger to his lips (unnecessary, really; Foomy was just sort of burbling a hello and Miss Dozy was sleeping, of course), and then he got to work.

Vette had said she wanted traps, didn't she?

And so it began.

Cackling to himself, Prompto slipped back out into the hallway, heading back up to his room, where all he had to do now was wait for them to get back, and watch it all enfold thanks to the little lipstick camera he'd included because this? Was going to be glorious and not to be missed.

[[ room modded and boobytrapped with permission! Mostly for the girls and their nice little junk mail glitter bomb, but, hey, if anyone wants to snag him in the hall before he's gone, I'm for it! but SP because I have the ever awesome and excting ~inventory~ tonight ]]

Although it was a little bit tempting, Prompto decided that, if he was going to pick up and leave for home and not bothering returning to Fandom Island, he wasn't going to just do it without a word. There had been a massive influx of messages sent out, albeit belatedly at the zero hour before he left. Yang, of course, obviously, and Nina, too, espsecially since he figured he wouldn't have been able to just slip away without a word with her around, anyway. And then Sidon, the normalcy of asking the Zora to cover for him at the shelter this week feeling odd in one way yet comforting in another. And, finally, one to Zack, which felt the strangest out of all of them, because when had he ever called Zack to let him know when he wouldn't make it in? Or that he and Sidon were switching shifts or covering the other? He'd always been cool about that sort of thing, he and Sidon just sort of did what they needed and he didn't care, not even when they missed because they were incapacitated or sick or turned into horrible frightening monsters that would eat all the animals, anyway...

...and it felt, in a way, that there was a certain sort of...finality in that call to Zack. Like tying off loose ends. Closing a chapter of a book....

Either way, he'd arrived in Insomnia that morning, inexplicably the next day, portal logic!, fumbling with his keys a little as he approached the quiet little house he'd grown up in. He pushed the door open, calling out into the stillness, though he knew there was no point. "Mom? Dad?"

Silence. Of course. Of course they weren't home, and he felt another terrible swell of sadness taking over him. You'd think, after pretty much his whole life of this, he'd get used to the feeling of coming home to an empty house, that he'd eventually stop feeling disappointed that his parents weren't there, but it never really faded, and, right now, when he felt like he sort of needed them the most, it seemed to hit especially hard. When he had so many questions he wanted to ask them. When all he wanted was answers and the only people in the world he could think of that might have them were...no where to be found. He just wanted them to hug him, and smooth back his hair, and tell him everything was okay. He wanted to hear that they knew about it, they knew everything, but they still loved him anyway, but did they even know? How could they not? Who just dumped some random Niflheim MT clone in an orphanage, and who then just picked up that random Niflheim MT clone to adopt...especially when they clearly had no interest in actually doing much parenting? He wanted answers, he wanted comfort, he actually wanted to talk about it, but all there was was empty rooms, walls scattered with photographs, old video games, and a cupboard full of Cup Noodles, cheap and easy because there was no time for them to make him any leftovers, but there's some money on the table if he wanted to eat out...

Absently, Prompto went to the mailbox to collect the usual stack of letters that had been stacking up while his parents were gone. Mostly junk mail, really, no one really sent anything important to the house, because everyone knew that the Mr. and Mrs. Argentum weren't likely home to receive it. But the stack seemed unusually thick this time around...he scoffed a little, derisively. Probably because he wasn't around to clean it up! And he idly glanced over them, sorting through it to make sure there weren't any bills or anything mixed in with the coupons and savings offers.

...wait a second.

Prompto blinked, staring down at the envelopes as he shifted through them, not even sure he was seeing what he thought he was, because that seemed...that was...how in the hell?

We got library cards! Ignis helped us!

Prompto was staring down at a handful of junk mail boldly addressed not to any Argentums who might be living at this address, but, instead, to the supposed Nina Libris and Vette Libris that did!

"What the hell?"

Honestly, he wasn't sure if that question into the ether was more for Nina and Vette...or for the clearly out-of-hand state of Insomnia's junk mail.


[[ junk mail modded with permission? lol. Anyway, it's open if anyone wants to get in touch! ]]

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!! ]]