[After packing a couple stabilizers, a bag lunch, some canned soups, and all his live ammunition (and some of the paint rounds, you never know); making sure his gun is clean and loaded and ready to go; wrapping the more-or-less functional fishing rod he made in the folded-up blanket Izunia gave him like a bedroll; and slinging the whole mess onto his back, Prompto is ready to go. The little flashlight attached to his clothes comes in handy down here in the caves, though the glowing crystals help, too, of course.]
What's the range these stabilizer things cover, again? How far out do you think we have to go to make a difference?
[Thanks to Prompto's presence, the emotional breeze down here's never going to be gentler than a stiff wind, and he has to raise his voice a little even when it's relatively calm.]
March 9th, Afternoon/Evening: Glitterstone Beach
[Prompto doesn't want anything to do with that blood sea ever again, so it's lucky for him he ends up coming out on the Glitterstone side instead. Delighted by the sparkling landscape, he runs around collecting scales by the handful, even though there probably isn't any use for them. Someone's room is going to be pretty as hell once the field trip's over.
Unfortunately, when the sun starts to set, his flashlight turns back on automatically, drawing a bunch of refraction orbs right to him.]
Wha--aw, crap!
[What are these tiny rainbow Bomb daemon fucking things?!
Later, once the sun's died and all the refraction orbs with it, Prompto wearily makes camp, which basically just means curling up in his blanket and trying to get comfortable on the gravel until the dragon eels come out. Then, awed, he goes to crouch at the lagoon's edge, water lapping at the toes of his boots, and watches the lights. Eventually, he remembers himself enough to take pictures: The colors, the stars, the Fissure-crossed sky above.
He scrolls back through the results only for his breath to catch faintly; he's gone too far. That's Niflheim. There's Aranea.
Here are the guys, back in Altissia, when there still was an Altissia to be in. Suddenly terribly alone, Prompto raises his eyes once more to that little patch of starlight up above, trying to keep it together.]
Guys...
March 11th, Morning: Skyclimb Cliffs
[Prompto's supplies are a lot lighter now, so it's both easier and prudent to head up the cliffs to restock. He searches for eggs at first, then goes down to try prying shellfish off the rocks for a while, but patience has never been one of Prompto's virtues. By late morning, he's sitting in the shade of the northern curve of the cliffs instead, working with some of those colorful scales from Glitterstone Beach.
For the rest of the day, Prompto's out on the rocks as far as he can go, fishing with his makeshift rod. The scales have helped make for a pretty alluring, well, lure, and he's seen Noct do this plenty of times. How hard can it be?
no subject
[After packing a couple stabilizers, a bag lunch, some canned soups, and all his live ammunition (and some of the paint rounds, you never know); making sure his gun is clean and loaded and ready to go; wrapping the more-or-less functional fishing rod he made in the folded-up blanket Izunia gave him like a bedroll; and slinging the whole mess onto his back, Prompto is ready to go. The little flashlight attached to his clothes comes in handy down here in the caves, though the glowing crystals help, too, of course.]
What's the range these stabilizer things cover, again? How far out do you think we have to go to make a difference?
[Thanks to Prompto's presence, the emotional breeze down here's never going to be gentler than a stiff wind, and he has to raise his voice a little even when it's relatively calm.]
March 9th, Afternoon/Evening: Glitterstone Beach
[Prompto doesn't want anything to do with that blood sea ever again, so it's lucky for him he ends up coming out on the Glitterstone side instead. Delighted by the sparkling landscape, he runs around collecting scales by the handful, even though there probably isn't any use for them. Someone's room is going to be pretty as hell once the field trip's over.
Unfortunately, when the sun starts to set, his flashlight turns back on automatically, drawing a bunch of refraction orbs right to him.]
Wha--aw, crap!
[What are these tiny rainbow Bomb daemon fucking things?!
Later, once the sun's died and all the refraction orbs with it, Prompto wearily makes camp, which basically just means curling up in his blanket and trying to get comfortable on the gravel until the dragon eels come out. Then, awed, he goes to crouch at the lagoon's edge, water lapping at the toes of his boots, and watches the lights. Eventually, he remembers himself enough to take pictures: The colors, the stars, the Fissure-crossed sky above.
He scrolls back through the results only for his breath to catch faintly; he's gone too far. That's Niflheim. There's Aranea.
Here are the guys, back in Altissia, when there still was an Altissia to be in. Suddenly terribly alone, Prompto raises his eyes once more to that little patch of starlight up above, trying to keep it together.]
Guys...
March 11th, Morning: Skyclimb Cliffs
[Prompto's supplies are a lot lighter now, so it's both easier and prudent to head up the cliffs to restock. He searches for eggs at first, then goes down to try prying shellfish off the rocks for a while, but patience has never been one of Prompto's virtues. By late morning, he's sitting in the shade of the northern curve of the cliffs instead, working with some of those colorful scales from Glitterstone Beach.
For the rest of the day, Prompto's out on the rocks as far as he can go, fishing with his makeshift rod. The scales have helped make for a pretty alluring, well, lure, and he's seen Noct do this plenty of times. How hard can it be?
...
...He's so bored he could die.]