noct: WHAT DID I DO???

Lestallum was... well, it was alright. She should have been grateful she got to take refuge in a hub - with a roof over her head, no less - but it was hard to count her blessings when she was sweating through all her clothes. Not to mention she was alone (though the sweating probably played a part in that) and so utterly bored - she wanted to take on some hunts, start making a name for herself, but she couldn’t exactly do anything useful or heroic without a car. So it seemed she’d be relegated to flinging herself about her hotel room, carving new reeds and getting some practice in with the tv on in the background, and watching the engineers leave the plant at quitting time for entertainment, because surely nothing more exciting would happen unless it was something extreme.

Then Prince Noctis showed up. Maybe the Astrals did listen to her whining occasionally.

   fishing was not his favorite hobby and the longer he sits perched on the pier at galdin quay, the more it dawns on him why. the ocean waves crashing so soothingly against white sands, seagulls squawking overhead and the blasted sun cursing its rays upon what flesh lays bare-- uncomfortable boredom. he should have denied noctis’ offer to join him, but if it meant not having to follow him and his companions across eos for a little longer, he thought why not ?  now he wishes to drown himself.  ❝  i see the admiration for a knowledgeable hobby such as chess didn’t get passed down through the bloodline.  ❞

“The boy King graces me with his presence yet again.” Came a spiteful rumble from the god of Flames. The demonic Astral huffed from his throne, narrowing ember eyes on a dark azure gaze. When will these foolish mortals ever learn, he wondered. 

While he had not acted out as a threat; lingering on the offense stance, uncanny towards those slightly unfamiliar to him, that scant familiarity was what encouraged him to approach as carefreely as he typically does – perhaps he mistake the figure for another,  the instinct to freeze per his response forwarded regardless ( not only was it the rational course of action to do, but stunned at the choice of words if he weren’t mistaken after all ), making if he daredbreathed or looked in his general direction more than he would like being under the amount of made-out scrutiny, the mentioned “fate” awaited him at all angles of carelessness.

❛ There isn’t any need to! ❜ Suppose linger at this space for a bit longer if it’d help, perhaps grasp at straws for what will be his remark after, aspiring it’d lessen what building tension had planted between the lot and gradually growing, as if wary when people were attentive to any trace of it treking higher levels. Or maybe – the gap was still too grand to really make out one another? He could think of the prince as someone entirely than what he was making himself ot to be, and vice versa. Be as the “reason” may, the sliver of hesitation to await the chance to approach felt suffocating, as short time passed by. Would another exchange of reassurance help? Hell, he’d rather not get himself shot in the midst of this, ❛ Nothing is going to happen if that’s what you’re on about, I assure you. ❜

“No touching.” He stated firmly before lowering his gun and putting away. 

The clone was still quite touch sensitive after all. The only thing that he had gotten used to were the occasional pat on the head from Loqi when the elder brother was proud of him.

It was fairly clear to him that he had been mistaken for someone else. Was it possible that this guy knew another clone that had escaped the lab? But Loqi didn’t say anything about having any other brothers out in the world that weren’t MTs...