phantasmalrift | DUNGEON LOG: KEYSTONE SHORE

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!dungeon

DUNGEON LOG: KEYSTONE SHORE

The morning of the 9th, everyone will get a message sent to their communication devices -

Okay, guys! I think we have enough stabilizers to try and get the shoreline stable. If you want to help out, grab your supplies and come on up to the roof!

When characters arrive at the roof, they'll find Top - with a wheeling table full of many copies of the same odd-looking device - the two exploratory drones, and a ramp down off the roof to the ground. (The latter looks a little hastily constructed.)

"Okay," Top says, picking up one of the devices. "Here's the stabilizers. Stick them to walls and stuff - mostly out of the way places where they're not going to get knocked off - and then press the buttons along the side."

They demonstrate, unfolding the set of legs at one end of the device before showing the buttons to anyone who's close enough. "Go ahead and take a couple, especially if you've got one of those space-saving inventories going on, I know there's like four of you with those? Strange got some first aid kits together, too, if you want."

Sure enough, another table nearby has the med kits... As well as traditional paper bag lunches, courtesy of Bottom. Don't question it too much.

"We'll be staying back here to keep track of the stabilization progress and work the drones," Top says, "but don't hesitate to call if you get in trouble! We'll send one of these guys down to get you an evac if you need it."

And with that, you're free to go down the ramp... Or to make for the beach however else you might choose to go.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

March 9th, Day: Tempest Seacaves

[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.]

[Hey Prompto, mind that you don't trip over -

Yeah it's the usual, Izunia curled up in his chair napping. Or, not quite napping, this time, from the way the blanket shifts and he sits up properly. Unlike Prompto, he doesn't have a flashlight - instead there's a flash of Armiger blue and a vial of fire energy in his hand -

Before he catches sight of the light and relaxes.]

Astrals, I thought you were a daemon there for a moment...

[Prompto yelps and scurries back, clutching his camera protectively, then huffs. Don't scare him like that!]

If you thought there were daemons out here, why're you sleeping out in the open?

[He turns to retrieve his own blanket--it's chilly on the beach, with the sun down--but then the words sink in on a different register entirely. I thought you were a daemon, and that month or so since the magitek production facility evaporates like a bubble, leaving nothing between Prompto and those memories. Especially not after the encounter he had today with a daemon of a different kind.

So he slows on his way to his blanket, then stoops to pick it up, to shake it out.]

Hey. I--Izunia. [That's possibly the first time Prompto's referred to him by name.] ...You've been dead for a long time, right? So you know something about souls?

I don't, it's just - I don't sleep well and I have a bit of a phobia. I don't like waking up in the dark.

[Hey Prompto, guess who else here has a bit of PTSD that literally no one has ever treated? Yeah.

Izunia slides his blanket down to his knees, leaving the fire-element vial - clearly the same as a magic flask if in a different shape - in his lap to provide them with a bit more light.]

A thing or two, yes.

[He wants to ask why, but... It's Prompto, so it's better to let him go at his own pace, he's finding. The boy will meander around to the point eventually.]

[Oh. Okay. Prompto can understand being scared. It's, like, the one things he understands, ever, so if he lowers his voice to be a little gentler, that's all it is.]

Everybody has them, right? Even if...

[He rubs his fingers against the softness of the blanket, then pulls it around his shoulders, unhappy. Back still to Izunia, he draws a slow line through the wet gravel of the beach with the heel of his boot, looking for words.]

Well, what kinds of things don't have souls? Do animals? They gotta.

[He turns to bring the light back, so Izunia won't be stuck with the dark.]

[It's appreciated, Prompto, though Izunia will keep the flask of fire in his lap anyway. It does, after all, also provide a source of warmth.]

Mmm, I can't confess to knowing too much about animals for certain... But all people, yes.

[It has never occured to Izunia to think of Prompto as anything other than a person.]

...What about robots? Like, would Top and the androids have their own, you think?

[Just gonna keep circling around this point until there's nowhere left to circle.]

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Mar 9, night

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Mar 11

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March 9, Day

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Mar 9, evening

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