Prompto expected… well, he didn’t know what he expected, but that 100% ready-to-go attitude hadn’t been it. Not that he would have thought to complain, exactly, but all at once and so very vehement was a little surprise.
No more surprising than the nickname. He stared for several seconds before blinking, then finally blew a breath through the bangs sticking out from under hit hat again. “Like my life depends on it. Yeah, yeah, not used to that or anything.” He drawled, but there was a distinct little smile on Prompto’s face. Not like he was constantly battle-ready, but having some help was way better than the initial plan of going it alone.
Standing up and stretching his back with a series of popping joints that made him wince, Prompto then shook out his hands at his sides. “Okay. I’ve got guns, I’ve got a few flares, and I’ve got bombs. Uh… that’s… more or less it. How about you?” Because surely she’d been armed with more than furniture, random supplies and ingenuity for all that time she’d spent surviving in the facility… right?
“And, uh.” He’d added before he’d really thought it through, but he didn’t bother stopping himself. Uncertain as he was, anxious as he felt internally, there was also a confidence both of pure stupidity and faith. In what, it wasn’t like he was going to try and figure out then and there, but if Noct had had faith in him, if Iggy and Gladio had too, then… “We gotta trust each other, okay? Get each other’s backs. I’m not gonna leave without you.”
Even if there was a lead weight in his stomach after the words, Prompto meant them.
At his initial response her eyes did another once-over along his form, covertly checking for any injuries or other such impairments that could make this plan even more dicey than it already was. Her conclusions were satisfactory, despite marking the fatigue that had seemed to settle in his bones. He had been here a while, or so it seemed. Or perhaps his journey back here had already given him quite a run for his money, tiring him but certainly not breaking him. For how youthful and naive he appeared on the surface, she knew better than to not take him seriously. His physique was, overall, quite remarkable. The type of body that spent years reaching such a level of potential. It would be foolish to underestimate his strength, but what of his intellect? Did he really have what it takes to carry out with such a grandiose plan? The notion that he not only had survived being here once, but twice, was enough to convince her.
She began to consider the meager supplies she had been able to gather, much of it lost in her own skirmishes against the daemons before he’d even arrived. Almost unconsciously she began to run her fingers over the fabric of the worn, baggy fatigues she had found somewhere within the rooms of the keep, trailing downwards until she brushed just beneath the side of her knee. She could feel the hard, jagged edges of her new legs. Legs the scientists here had made for her, crafted out of metal broken and bursting with wine-dark shards of mutated crystal. Sure, she had more than just some knives and supplies for traps, but would she be safe in showing him that?
Guns she feared. She didn’t understand them, and managed to injure none but herself trying to use the ones she had found scavenging the keep. All this time she had managed to survive mostly through fleeing, luck, and the largely uncontrolled power she was able to tap into when desperation spiked high enough to cloud her brain beyond any healthy measure of judgement. “I-... Uh...”
Then, any thought or emotion current in her mind halted as soon as she heard his final words. Words so genuine and nostalgic, she nearly had to choke back tears she no longer knew she could shed. Her mind swirled with an odd haze of disassociated thought, unsure of whether or not he were real or if she were dreaming, or if perhaps she had just conjured this boy up in a hyper-realistic hallucination spawned from her ever-growing fear and isolation. She hadn’t encountered another quite so human since she was back home, all those years ago.
“You...” Her voice quivered with uncertainty before steadying itself, her vulnerable expression shifting once again in a somewhat feeble attempt to display gallantry and determination. As hopeful as she was to gain her life back, there was something more urgent at hand, “Right. You have my word. But more importantly, is your mission... I will offer all of my strength and resources to help you, but you have to promise to put your mission first. Whatever happens you have to-... “Her voice shook and trailed off before coming back to her, “You have to make sure to blow this place off the map! So no one can ever be brought back or born here ever again!”
