Airlocked Post-R4 CMO

[photoshooter]

So they call this place Florida, like "flowery," you know? But really, they should have called it Cacata Carta because it's a real piece of crap.

Comments

[playthedamncard]

[It's been a new experience, having friends, experiencing friendship, and he supposes if there's anyone else dead here he really ought to say hello to, it had better be Prompto. Prompto, whose death had caused such unexpected emotions, simply because they had bonded in their own strange way.

Kaiba looks tired, more than he ever did while Prompto was alive, and there's a smudge of sunscreen on his cheek that hasn't quite rubbed in yet, but otherwise he looks put-together. If more casual. Though to Prompto, the biggest change would be, haircut aside, the eyepatch over his left eye and the hint of bad scarring visible just beyond it.

He regards Prompto with a small tilt of his head, a barely there smirk.]

Have you and Lucina picked up where you left off from?

[photoshooter]

[Prompto freezes where he's working on a motorcycle--not his, his is fine, but it seems a little sad to just leave all those other ones sitting around unloved and un-cared for--and then slowly resumes, bright red, with a throat-clearing noise.]

I. Don't know what you're talking about!

[He picks up a wrench, tightens something closed on the bike, and then pops up from the ground. His expression does something funny when he sees Kaiba's eye again, part wince, part weirdly yearning, distant look, but then he shakes it off and props his toolbox on the bike seat so he can start putting things away.]

You've got some stuff on your face, dude. [He gestures to his own cheek.] Right there.

[playthedamncard]

[That Prompto is the one that seems to have had the most reaction to the damage is...well, not surprising, given his sensitive nature. Still, curious. Kaiba blinks, rubs at his cheek--sighs. Don't mind him quickly rubbing that the rest of the way in.]

You know exactly what I'm talking about, as does literally any person in your or her radius, including those that never met you before. [rubrubrub] Neither of you are exactly subtle.

[photoshooter]

[If possible, he blushes even more furiously.]

We--I--we can be subtle!

[...]

Did everybody know?

[playthedamncard]

Do you remember how you two were at the trial? Your emotions run fairly high.

[photoshooter]

Okay, come on, that's not, like, the most objective time and place to judge somebody's feelings for someone else. Maybe I'm just like that!

[playthedamncard]

You know, that wouldn't surprise me in the slightest.

Playing mechanic?

[photoshooter]

[Oh, a subject change. Time to cling to that for all it's worth. Prompto pats the motorcycle.]

I mean, I'm pretty amateur, but I know enough about maintaining a bike of my own to try and fix up some of the others. They're not too far gone, at least, and then other people can use 'em. Keeps me busy!

[He just wants to be useful.]

[playthedamncard]

[He seems to consider this. And cocks an eyebrow in thought.] If you get one in fine enough working order, I wouldn't mind at least taking one for a spin.

[photoshooter]

[Prompto opens his mouth. Closes it. A beat or two passes.]

Huh. Uh, you ride?

[playthedamncard]

I've ridden. [He might want to show off to Akira, honestly.] And I've driven and I've flown. I'm a man of many talents.

[photoshooter]

[He nods, then bobs his head from side to side, rolling this new information around.]

Mm, true. You up to it?

[And so, there it is. He asks. He points around his own eye with a thumb, so it's clear what he means, but he neither asks doubtfully nor over-gently. It's just a question. What's your self-assessment, Kaiba? You know yourself best.]

[playthedamncard]

[Not necessarily what he was expecting, but he'll take it. He looks the bike over, gives a one shoulder shrug and a smug smirk.]

Do you want it back, and do you want it back in one piece? [Maybe that second question should be concerning but listen...

(Also, is it going to be weird and different with just one eye? He has no idea. But he refuses to imagine that riding a bike, even one with an engine and a very real chance of killing him if he fucks up, is that much harder than doing anything else with one eye. A little practice and a little wobble of balance and then everything will work out. Surely.)]

[photoshooter]

I want you back in one piece, dude. Tell me you're at least gonna wear a helmet.

[Why should he care about the motorcycles when he has an almost infinite supply to very little demand? It's like living in a video game. Or having an Armiger full of bikes, minus the convenience of pulling them out of thin air.]

[playthedamncard]

[He laughs, and then he realizes that Prompto was probably serious about that.] I can't say I was planning on it.

[photoshooter]

Nope, Quicksilver Deliveries and Motorcycle Repair stands for safe riding!

[Never mind that Prompto only wears a helmet when Lucina's around.]

...At least the first time you get on, anyway.

[playthedamncard]

Is that really what you're calling it. Did you make that up on the spot?

[photoshooter]

No! I made it up, like, at least a couple weeks ago. What's wrong with what I'm calling my business?

[playthedamncard]

This is going to sound downright insane coming from me, but--is there really a need for business here?

[photoshooter]

No, but what else are we supposed to do? I mean, getting people junk and hunting and fixing things is all stuff I'd do anyway, but, like, at least this way I get to feel like an accomplished member of society.

[playthedamncard]

Well. [He's been trying to do his part, which mostly has come in the form of taking Zombina's map and trying to sort through parts, to cobble together something useful to them all. It has yet to work out in a way he's satisfied with.] At least someone does.

[photoshooter]

...Weeeellll, first time for everything, right? I gotta find some way to help out. And this way makes it fun.

[He considers something, then tries:]

Wanna work for me?