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.]
no subject
All the more reason to make the most of it as long as we're here.
no subject
[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?
no subject
...Wait, really?
[This is the first she's heard of that possibility.]
no subject
[It's not easy, being a stupid baby.]
no subject
[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...
no subject
[Boy, does he recognize that kind of weight on people.]
no subject
[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.]
no subject
[That sounds stressful!]
Um, good luck? Can I say good luck when I don't know when you'll be, like, dragged back there?
no subject
[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.
no subject
[Like something out of a video game.]
no subject
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...]no subject
[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...
no subject
[She purses her lips.]
Don't ask me why.
no subject
[He doesn't sound entirely sure about that, but religion isn't his wheelhouse.]
So you guys are stopping them from bringing him back, huh? They really have that much power, even though... Do they know this Grima guy wants to kill everybody?
no subject
[There's no love lost here, that's for sure.]
no subject
[He fiddles with his hands.]
I really do hope you guys win.