Awash IC Inbox

[photoshooter]

Text | Video | Voice | [Action]

Screenshot: source

Comments

[whichcraft]

Ooo. A week before Halloween.

[That's easy to remember. Which is good, because she's making a mental note of it.]

Do you guys do Halloween, where you're from? Do you have it, I mean, or is it like geese?

[photoshooter]

I'm not sure what that is, so I guess it's like geese. Buuuuut I'm guessing it's not a bird that'll bite off your dick? I mean, I don't think dick-eating birds go in big for scheduling.

[Michael Mell should not be allowed to teach Prompto things about Earth.]

[whichcraft]

Halloween is like...a kid's favorite holiday except for maybe Christmas. You're supposed to dress up in costumes and go around house to house knocking on doors and shaking people down for free candy, and they're socially obligated to give it to you.

[Although there is something pleasantly refreshing about hearing the word "dick" repeated this many times in a short sitting. Kind of like being back with the boys all over again.]

I don't recall mentioning geese as being dick-eating in particular, either, so who else in this dump has been telling you stories about geese?

[photoshooter]

This kid named Michael. He's nice, he let me play video games at his... place thing. You know, last week. I bet you'd like him, he's funny, but I think he's still in high school. Dunno if that makes it weird to hang out. He's from... New Jersey?

[He vaguely remembers asking about New Jersey.]

Do they have this Halloween thing in New Jersey, too? He made it seem like New Jersey was sort of weird.

[whichcraft]

New Jersey is the armpit of its geographical region. If a nation were a body, Jersey would absolutely be the rank post-gym class armpit.

[That's presumably a yes.]

I'm trying to think of a good descriptor and I just keep coming back to "Jersey Shore takes place in New Jersey" but you don't know what Jersey Shore is either.

[photoshooter]

Theeeeeeeeeee shore of New Jersey?

[whichcraft]

It's a reality TV show about disaster people living together and engaging in a perpetual lifestyle of postpubescent drama.

[photoshooter]

Oh, ew. Like Livin' Lestallum. Say no more.

[whichcraft]

...I'm weirdly relieved that some things apparently never change, no matter where you go.

[It gets a laugh out of her, too, and she takes her turn at swinging their hands a little before abruptly giving his arm a tug.]

Hey. You should give me a piggyback ride.

[photoshooter]

Haha, what? Why?

[He stops, though, the grin from his laugh still there.]

How far you wanna go?

[whichcraft]

I dunno! I just want to. You're strong, right? You haul around bazookas and everything. C'monnnnn, please? It'll be fun. ...For me.

[Her expression is the dictionary definition of "Pretty Pretty Please".]

It doesn't even have to be that far. Pleeeeease?

[photoshooter]

Bazookas are only like eighteen pounds!

[But he's already letting go of her hand so he can turn, bending a little and offering her his back, waggling his hands at her from his sides.]

Well? C'mon, I don't think I can make it that far!

[whichcraft]

Are you saying I'm fat?

[She's already on her way, though, and it quickly becomes apparent that this is something she's highly familiar with — she's deft and practiced in the way she hops onto his back without kicking him or landing oddly, and easily falls into place with her arms draped over his shoulders and her head turned slightly to the side so that she can see past his.

She's definitely not eighteen pounds, but she's also lighter than one might expect; the cloak and the armor add the appearance of volume, but fundamentally she is in fact a slight, noodly girl — possibly a little bit too light, even, given her height.]

I'm good! I'm good when you are!

[photoshooter]

Oof.

[He staggers a little, because Flora might be an extra-fine noodle, but Prompto is, too. Then he shifts, secures his footing, and chuckles.]

...Kweeeh!

[And off he goes at a wobbling trot. Once he finds a sustainable rhythm, he starts to hum, and then to sing:]

I want to ride my chocobo all day, do doo dododoo do doo...!

[whichcraft]

You have a song?!

[WHEE. Off they go — and off Summer goes, privately relishing the free opportunity to soak up some human body contact without having to deal with the embarrassment of outright asking for a hug.]

Not bad, Mr. Quick!