Prompto Argentum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
photoshooter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
phantasmalrift2018-04-09 07:08 pm
photoshooter) wrote in phantasmalrift2018-04-09 07:08 pm
Just a flock of birds, that's how you think of love
Who: Prompto Argentum photoshooter and open
What: A log that isn't about chickens! Come jogging, celebrate a special birthday with MEAT MEAT MEAT, witness something odd in the tech lab, or take a romantic picture in the rain.
When: April 2 - 8
Where: (i) The beach, baby! (ii) Keystone kitchen (iii) Tech lab (iv) Tempest Seacaves
Warnings: Nah.
Any day, early morning, Glitterstone Beach
[Prompto's been feeling better these days, what with the prospect of a new feathery addition to hype and hisboyfriend moirail best bud in town. With his hugest source of anxiety quelled, he's been keeping more regular hours and a more regular diet, and the best way to maintain that is to get up early to get some exercise in.
Every morning, rain or shine--and it's mostly rain, this week--Prompto's out jogging down Glitterstone Beach. If it's wet, all he does is throw on a poncho made out of a garbage bag. Ain't nothing keeping a boy from his cardio.]
April 2nd, evening, kitchen
[It's not common knowledge, but today is a very special day for a very special meatstick. I mean man. And while Gladio might not be here for the boys to celebrate with, Prompto can't let his birthday go unobserved.
Besides, he's been wishing he could help out a little more. Most folks he sees in the kitchen lately are a little... well, they make him feel less bad about himself, let's put it that way.]
Let's see... I'm sure I've seen Ignis do something like this...
[There aren't any instructions on the packages of razorbone steaks, but Prompto swallows his fear like the manliest of men and reaches for the salt and pepper shakers.
Soon, there's a delicious smell of cooking pepper-crusted meats--venison-like, if you happen to have that kind of creature on your home planet--as Prompto, nervously humming, does his best to sear those steaks. They might come out overdone, or over-salted or -peppered, but there's buttery pre-made mashed potatoes heating up in the microwave to go with them and a variety of fresh fruit set out in bowls, and, hey, at least he didn't burn anything.]
Too bad we don't have any Cup Noodle. That would've really taken the cake.
[Also, at least he didn't try to make a cake.]
April 5th, late night, tech lab
[Mmm, machinery and the smell of grease--no better antidote for nightmares. Sort of. Maybe. Prompto can think of a bunch, actually, but it's too late at night to bother the chickens and he certainly doesn't want to wake anyone else. So, he's put his glasses on his nose and stuck his arm in the guts of something engine-like, trying to distract himself from the quavery chill of his dream by getting the thing started.
It starts, to some yelping, and Prompto yanks his arm back and away as the engine chokes out some dust at him, sputters, and then quiets to a jittery hum. Prompto coughs and shuts it down again, pulling off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt, still spooked by the noise.]
Ugh, warn a guy next time, would you? You scared me!
[He breathes on the lenses of his glasses to fog them up, then stills very carefully.
This close, even unaided, it's hard to miss the frost that's spread across the front of his glasses, forming delicate fractal patterns.]
April 8th, day, Tempest Seacaves
[But anyway, he's not gonna think about that.
Even though it's the fifth in a series of miserably rainy days, Prompto pulls on long sleeves and heads out--not to the beach, but just to explore the caverns, jacket against the wind. Now that it's stabilized, it's a lot safer down here, and he takes his time to snap photos of crystals and cool rock structures and those creepy fish things in the tidal pools.
Eventually, he finds his way to the eastern overlook, where he sits to eat a sandwich lunch. And just in time--the sun finally breaks through the clouds, and Prompto laughs and drops his sandwich back into the Armiger to take pictures of the resulting rainbow over the sea.]
photoshooter and openWhat: A log that isn't about chickens! Come jogging, celebrate a special birthday with MEAT MEAT MEAT, witness something odd in the tech lab, or take a romantic picture in the rain.
When: April 2 - 8
Where: (i) The beach, baby! (ii) Keystone kitchen (iii) Tech lab (iv) Tempest Seacaves
Warnings: Nah.
Any day, early morning, Glitterstone Beach
[Prompto's been feeling better these days, what with the prospect of a new feathery addition to hype and his
Every morning, rain or shine--and it's mostly rain, this week--Prompto's out jogging down Glitterstone Beach. If it's wet, all he does is throw on a poncho made out of a garbage bag. Ain't nothing keeping a boy from his cardio.]
April 2nd, evening, kitchen
[It's not common knowledge, but today is a very special day for a very special meatstick. I mean man. And while Gladio might not be here for the boys to celebrate with, Prompto can't let his birthday go unobserved.
Besides, he's been wishing he could help out a little more. Most folks he sees in the kitchen lately are a little... well, they make him feel less bad about himself, let's put it that way.]
Let's see... I'm sure I've seen Ignis do something like this...
[There aren't any instructions on the packages of razorbone steaks, but Prompto swallows his fear like the manliest of men and reaches for the salt and pepper shakers.
Soon, there's a delicious smell of cooking pepper-crusted meats--venison-like, if you happen to have that kind of creature on your home planet--as Prompto, nervously humming, does his best to sear those steaks. They might come out overdone, or over-salted or -peppered, but there's buttery pre-made mashed potatoes heating up in the microwave to go with them and a variety of fresh fruit set out in bowls, and, hey, at least he didn't burn anything.]
Too bad we don't have any Cup Noodle. That would've really taken the cake.
[Also, at least he didn't try to make a cake.]
April 5th, late night, tech lab
[Mmm, machinery and the smell of grease--no better antidote for nightmares. Sort of. Maybe. Prompto can think of a bunch, actually, but it's too late at night to bother the chickens and he certainly doesn't want to wake anyone else. So, he's put his glasses on his nose and stuck his arm in the guts of something engine-like, trying to distract himself from the quavery chill of his dream by getting the thing started.
It starts, to some yelping, and Prompto yanks his arm back and away as the engine chokes out some dust at him, sputters, and then quiets to a jittery hum. Prompto coughs and shuts it down again, pulling off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt, still spooked by the noise.]
Ugh, warn a guy next time, would you? You scared me!
[He breathes on the lenses of his glasses to fog them up, then stills very carefully.
This close, even unaided, it's hard to miss the frost that's spread across the front of his glasses, forming delicate fractal patterns.]
April 8th, day, Tempest Seacaves
[But anyway, he's not gonna think about that.
Even though it's the fifth in a series of miserably rainy days, Prompto pulls on long sleeves and heads out--not to the beach, but just to explore the caverns, jacket against the wind. Now that it's stabilized, it's a lot safer down here, and he takes his time to snap photos of crystals and cool rock structures and those creepy fish things in the tidal pools.
Eventually, he finds his way to the eastern overlook, where he sits to eat a sandwich lunch. And just in time--the sun finally breaks through the clouds, and Prompto laughs and drops his sandwich back into the Armiger to take pictures of the resulting rainbow over the sea.]
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They've talked about that.
"The other thing was to keep the daemons out. So everyone could travel safely at night."
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"It's... a monster. Something that doesn't fit into the natural world. There's all different kinds, but they all... they're weak to light, so they materialize at night, and in dark places. And they're a lot stronger and meaner than normal wildlife. All they do is kill..."
He's quiet again, twisting his belt between his hands, and then adds, "Some of them used to be animals. Or people. Before they got infected."
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He's standing still and heavy now in the bottoms of his boots.
"But the only person who could heal it is gone, now. She... she gave up everything, trying to protect us all."
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Like it's a struggle, Prompto has to close his eyes and take a deep breath to continue.
"There's only so much one person, even the Oracle, can do to help everyone, so--I mean, I can't presume to speak for her. I-I never had the chance to meet her in person. But Lady Lunafreya just... put her trust in Noct, I think. To do what she couldn't."
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And that's it, for a moment. Prompto doesn't seem eager to start the story, holding his ankles instead and watching the seafoam lap at the shore. Eventually, though, he says, "You'll know him when you see him. Black hair, blue eyes... He looks a lot like Izunia. Zuzu's his, uh, great-to-the-hundred-and-eleventh-power grandfather, I think it is, so, like. That makes sense."