Just a flock of birds, that's how you think of love

[photoshooter]

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 his boyfriend 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.]

Comments

3rd, morning

[thoroff]

[Depending on how much attention Prompto's paying to the world at large, he may or may not notice the approaching sound of wingbeats as he makes his way down the beach. Either way, he'll almost certainly notice the great shadow passing over him, blocking off what little light the morning sun provides.

Look up, and there's the sight of black wings, and peeking out from above them a certain white-haired rider, who waves down at Prompto in a friendly, if not terribly energetic, manner.]

[photoshooter]

[Prompto's always alert to great shadows from above. He doesn't place the sound of wings until she's already right over him, but when he does look up, he's delighted to see Wren and Catria and not, say, a Magitek Trooper dropship.

With much more enthusiasm, he returns the wave and calls up:]

Hey! Good morning!

[thoroff]

[Wren has Catria continue to keep pace with Prompto.]

Good morning! Up bright and early, I see!

[She, on the other hand, has the early, but maybe not so much the bright. Cheerful as she is, there's some weariness to her voice.]

[photoshooter]

You, too! Ooooor is it more for Catria?

[He knows a little something about non-morning people.]

[thoroff]

[She laughs, just loud enough to be audible over the sounds of her pegasus's flight.]

You see right through me.

[If she's an early riser it's by necessity, definitely not desire.]

[photoshooter]

Awwww. Hear that, Cat? Wren really loves you. Be good to her, okay?

[Prompto make a heart with his fingers.]

[thoroff]

[Good gods, Prompto might just be the most adorable human being she's ever met. (Okay, second most adorable. The crown will always belong to her son. You understand.)

Catria neighs, and Wren sees fit to translate:]

Always!

[With that, she flies ahead, touching down at the end of the beach, where she'll wait for Prompto to catch up.]

[photoshooter]

[He lopes along soon enough, spurred onward, as always, by the prospect of companionship and pretty animals.]

Heeeellllllo again! [Prompto jogs in place for a bit, slowing down and catching his breath, and then finally lets his legs rest and grins, hands on his knees.]

Feel good to stretch your wings, girls?

[thoroff]

[Sitting side-saddle, Wren watches Prompto approach, and gives Catria an affectionate little pat before replying.]

Yep! Nothing like feeling the wind in your face to wake you right up.

[photoshooter]

I'll say. [He lifts his arms over his head and stretches, first to one side and then the other.] And sunrise around here is incredible. I hope the weather holds out for a long time like this.

[thoroff]

[It's official: Things got all gloomy because Prompto Argentum went and jinxed it.]

It is, isn't it? It's... nice to be able to sit back and appreciate such things.

[Would be nicer if she hadn't left pressing matters behind, but you know. Silver linings and all that.]

[photoshooter]

[HE'S GOMEN...]

...It really is, isn't it?

[Looking out over the water, Prompto lowers his arms, then fiddles idly with his belt. After another beat, he sighs.]

I can't remember the last time I... had the time to watch the dawn break.

[thoroff]

[The sudden shift in mood doesn't escape Wren, and with a soft "hup!" she hops off Catria's back and walks over to Prompto, following his gaze out to the ocean.]

All the more reason to make the most of it as long as we're here.

[photoshooter]

Yeah.

[He smiles at her and then looks back out at the sea.]

It was tough at first, but now I kinda hope we can stay here a while. I mean, no rush, if time might not even be moving the same way, right?

[thoroff]

[At first Wren simply hums affirmatively, but then she double-takes.]

...Wait, really?

[This is the first she's heard of that possibility.]

[photoshooter]

Yeah, uh, someone said that's what the androids think is happening, I think? I forget who mentioned it to me. Maybe Top or Izunia. I don't really understand that kind of stuff so you'd have more luck getting the whole idea from someone else.

[It's not easy, being a stupid baby.]

[thoroff]

I'll have to ask them about it.

[Aw, it's okay, weird dimensional metaphysics are just as far beyond her understanding and she thinks for a living.]

It'd be a huge weight off my shoulders were it true...

[photoshooter]

...Stuff going on back home, huh?

[Boy, does he recognize that kind of weight on people.]

[thoroff]

It was only the eve of the battle our entire careers had been leading up to when my brother and I were brought here.

[There's frustration clear in her voice. The best part of a month later, she still can't believe just how astoundingly rotten the timing was.]

[photoshooter]

Oh, yikes.

[That sounds stressful!]

Um, good luck? Can I say good luck when I don't know when you'll be, like, dragged back there?

[thoroff]

I'll gladly accept your well wishes.

[She smiles, though it's a little wry.]

I'd say we shouldn't need luck given how meticulously we've planned everything out, but that's just begging for an unexpected turn.

[photoshooter]

It's never a bad thing to have luck on your side! Especially not when it comes to something huge like that. Final battle, huh?

[Like something out of a video game.]

[thoroff]

["This is it! Our final battle! You're one of us, and no 'destiny' can change that."

Wren inhales sharply at those two words. Then, pressing her eyes shut, she slowly exhales. Finally, she reopens them to look at Prompto, and nods.]

...Yes. Unless things go horribly wrong, it will be.

[Yeah, about that...]

[photoshooter]

Fingers crossed!

[He lifts his fingers to show how crossed they are.]

Who are you fighting, anyway? I guess I've heard more about the different animals people have in their worlds than their stories...

[thoroff]

The Grimleal. They're a cult that worship and seek to revive the Fell Dragon Grima, a god of destruction who wishes for the annihilation of the human race.

[She purses her lips.]

Don't ask me why.