HELP!

[cameracoded]

No! NO!
I’m not…
This isn’t real, th-this isn’t real!
I CAN’T BREATHE!!
I-I don’t even think I have lungs!
This isn’t… w-what’s going on…?


-=someone just woke up as a robot and is not having a good time=-

Comments

[smokeandcarbs]

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.

[cameracoded]

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.

[smokeandcarbs]

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."

[cameracoded]

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."

[smokeandcarbs]

"I wonder if Margo would complain much if you tried taking her picture..."

Jean misses Prompto's spiky hair. He can't wait to touch it again. With a small sigh, he contents himself with touching the non-existent freckles on his friend's shoulders and neck, until he rises from the coffin and offers his hand to the big robot, an encouraging smile on his face.

"Then next time you meet your Arcanum, you can tell her you're doing an excellent job."