synopsychic | HELP!

-=eliot feels so warm, and he smells so good. prompto doesn't want to let go, not for a long time. his fingers curl into the fabric of the magician's shirt where they curl around his back.

Yeah... -=nodding, he finally looks up again, managing a small smile=- Yeah, lets go.

[Raises his hand to run his thumb gently along one of Prompto's cheeks, stroking back a bit of hair, and then he nods. He pulls back just a little, and briefly, to form the hand positions that summon the door to their room. Then he settles an arm around the gunner again so they can escape to somewhere private and shut out the rest of the world for a little while.]

[Not quite, though typically he's more worried about Prompto.]

I have the owl. Tell Vern I said hello. And not to eat the feathers.

[Nobody wants a flying dog.]

Eliot said he was coming...

-=even his mental voice sounds really small right now=-

H-he says.. hi there. . . !

-=there's a momentary pause=-

To late...

...Oh no.

[This is his life. This is happening. Jean eventually finds Prompto. He waves at him with his cigarette hand, a little owl with fifty pairs of fluffy wings on his shoulder. ]

[Oh no, Prompto. Drizzt feels sympathy for him.]

Then I will stay with you until he arrives. You will figure out how to return to your body. It will be all right.

-=prompto is sitting there forlornly with both sets of arms wrapped around his metal knees while Vern flies in slow, lazy circles around him, feet dangling loosely and tail wagging.

familiar, glowing blue eyes lift to jean as he approaches, a confusing twist of emotion spiking in his chest. he lifts one hand in greeting, but otherwise doesn't move=-

I hope so.

I hate this. I hate it a lot.

His heart leaps at the sight of the sad robot and his flying dog. This is one of the rare moments Jean is actively grateful for his mostly inexpressive face, though Prompto may catch a glimpse of the flood of emotions inside. Hastening his steps, he kneels beside the coffin, holding Prompto's hands with his own.

"Hey." he says, daring to look into his eyes. "It's going to be all right, I promise."

There is no magical bond between them now, so he can't be a cheater like Gene, but he thinks they will manage just fine without it.

Prompto looks stricken in a way. Even without the range of emotion he usually has, he still manages to look panicked. His own storm of emotions are raging behind those eyes, but he's not breathing or otherwise physically reactive.

Still, even without a crazy body switch, he knows first hand what Jean is going through and it angers him that he's still so weak that he's the one they run to help. He squeezes Jean's hand's carefully, then after a moment of hesitation, he leans in closer and wraps his other set of arms around the -now smaller than him- Jean Otus.

"I missed you." Time still feels like it's missing. It still feels like they haven't seen each other in weeks even if they were together the whole time.

That startles Luna, who flies away and bumps onto Vern's side. Slowly, very slowly, Jean returns Prompto's hug, round blue eyes a fraction wider. He was half expecting the younger blond to run away from him for being the pest he is. With all the complex feelings they have to deal with, Jean wouldn't blame him at all. It's puzzles him to no end that he can say things like I missed you. But then again, the feeling is more than reciprocal, isn't it?

"I missed you too. And I missed your freckles. They are like a constellation. You can memorize them if you give it a try."

With a warm smile, he pokes Prompto's robotic face at the exact places his little spots should be, secretly hoping that reminding him of his real body will help him change back.

I would hate it as much as you. It is just as distressing the other way around. A robot friend of mine did not enjoy being an elf. It was very disconcerting.

Vern lands and gently nuzzles Luna and licks at the little owl.

Prompto regrets for a moment trying to hug him. He can feel that tension, that hesitation and worries immediately that he did something wrong. He's a magitek... thing. Jean saw those soldiers, saw what he was supposed to become. He can't blame him for not wanting to be touched by a robot.

The comment about his freckles throws him off, and it's good enough to derail the train of thought for the time being. He blinks confusedly at the gentle poking, expression softening a bit.

"I-I, um... used to think they made me look like I had some sort of disease when I was little."

Jean couldn't possibly make that connection. In spite of knowing what Prompto has been through and what waited for him in his world, he can't imagine this sweet boy as a murderous robot. And Sherwin...Sherwin had been a hero.

"Oh no, " he says with a chuckle, still drawing the uncannily accurate map of Prompto's freckles on his face. "Had I met you back then, I would have told you they make you look like Luna."

Recovering from her fright, the owl chirps contently. She finds Vern's tongue bathes very soothing.

He can feel those touches, but they're wrong. Insubstantial and far away, like a tease of something that could be real. He still tries to focus on those little touches through the cacophony raging through his mind, trying to will himself back to flesh and bone so he can feel them for real. The lingering bits of him that are still Sherwin for the moment are railing against the fact that he can't feel Gene.

There are a lot of fears keeping him stuck though, as much as he loathes it right now. He has no organs, no body. What if he can't come back? Or what if he does and it's all wrong? What ifs are horrible and torturous things. "Wish I knew you back then."

Vern carries Luna along in his fur as he hops into the box to try and be a good, snuggling friend and rests his head in Prompto's lap, making a soft whimpering sound.

If you are a robot, you don't need to breathe, so for the moment you can stop worrying about that.

~~Have you tried turning it off and on again.~~

And it sounds like you kept a form from a jaunt. Have you done that before?

Jean thinks Vern has the right idea. He leans on Prompto and keeps his arms wrapped around him, as if he were comforting a small boy, even if the robot's much bigger than he is.

"I was lame." he mutters, resting his forehead on his. "Books, birds and puzzles, watching over Lotta if my parents were not home..."

He pokes the non-existent freckles on his neck.

"Your card is the Sun, right? That means hope, and warmth and always rising the next morning no matter what. Speaking of...what about leaving this creepy coffin? I doubt that's improving your morale."

D-Daneel?

Yes. You know him?

I know but my brain keeps trying to breathe and its not working so it's freaking me out! I can't help it!

And no! I've only ever been me before!

Prompto leans his head gently against Jean, carefully as though he's worried he'll somehow hurt the now flesh and blood man at his side. He eventually lets his eyes drift closed partway, focusing on the faint touches of Jean's fingers.

"All I did was take pictures of other people's pets."

He lifts a hand -one of them this time, he seems to be managing them independently now- and touches the inlayed version of his mark in golds and platinum. "She said I need to make people happy."

Those glowing digital eyes blink open again up at Jean, then lower to regard the cardboard coffin he's laying in. "You're probably right."

I helped him when he got stuck in a dungeon. Everyone thought I was a robot in there too.

Try to concentrate on this then:

There typically is an easy enough way to get back, once you know how exactly to do it.

It helps if you've done some kind of transformation before. Have you?

[Oh, look. You're talking to Drizzt instead of full-blown panicking now. Distraction is a good technique.]

Good--I am so very glad to hear that you did. I went into his dungeon as well. You two are friends as well, then? [And almost died.] Daneel is one of the most important people to me in this place.

HELP!

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