[somehow, v manages to put into words what prompto was unable to. and, somehow, too, manages to offer the words that prompto had wished sorely to hear from others in regards to dreams, with how they confuse and torment, no matter how lighthearted they may be. it's reassuring in a way he can't quite explain.]

[and so he just nods at v's words about finding company in his misery, that statement being more comforting than it has any right to be.]

Maybe this is why I always take so many pictures, to make sure I remember things. My brain-gallery is so messy. I have over ten thousand pictures all messily hanging around. [something he should... get to organizing, maybe. picking himself up and onto his feet, he's tapping at buttons on his camera and walking towards the other.] It's more organized on my camera cuz the space is limited.

[he offers the camera to v, gallery open, even as he steps to lean his side against the back of the couch so that he, too, can see what pictures v will be looking at. one of the comforts an actual camera offers is how analog it feels in comparison to their neural implants--with buttons and options displayed on its screen, rather than popping up into their vision.]

Ah, just press the right arrow to keep going, and left to go back. There's a bunch of pictures of me and my friends, actually.