[ Noctis had received the message, of course. A call to action, more of their kind showing up here alone, no doubt startled and in need of assistance. Even still it takes him more time to get to the scene than he would've liked, sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the partiers with his fully covered body and focused expression, brow pinched as he searches for anyone dressed like he'd been when he arrived.
His destination, whether or not he finds anyone, is the same: they'll all end up back at the safehouse and while it's been a few days now since he's stayed there he certainly hasn't forgotten the location. Hasn't forgotten what it felt like to be brought there and left alone, confused and disoriented. Maybe he can help... it feels like the least he can do, anyway.
It's a coincidence that has him heading to the medical storage, freshly emerging from the kitchen after showing a few hungry newbies around and letting them know what to expect. No, now he's in need of a fresh bandage of his own -- or, more accurately, some bandage tape or a fastener to tend to the wrappings around his upper arm. He's still sporting the sling that'll be his main accessory for a while, mumbling a brief "excuse me" to the man he notes lingering nearby.
Then he gets a second look.
Recognition comes slow when he's faced with his best friend, hair shorn shorter and arms sporting deep track marks just like his had when he'd first made the rounds in this dark and gloomy place. But-- those eyes, the slope of his nose, his height, every little feature he narrows in on... It's him. ]
c. we do what we want
His destination, whether or not he finds anyone, is the same: they'll all end up back at the safehouse and while it's been a few days now since he's stayed there he certainly hasn't forgotten the location. Hasn't forgotten what it felt like to be brought there and left alone, confused and disoriented. Maybe he can help... it feels like the least he can do, anyway.
It's a coincidence that has him heading to the medical storage, freshly emerging from the kitchen after showing a few hungry newbies around and letting them know what to expect. No, now he's in need of a fresh bandage of his own -- or, more accurately, some bandage tape or a fastener to tend to the wrappings around his upper arm. He's still sporting the sling that'll be his main accessory for a while, mumbling a brief "excuse me" to the man he notes lingering nearby.
Then he gets a second look.
Recognition comes slow when he's faced with his best friend, hair shorn shorter and arms sporting deep track marks just like his had when he'd first made the rounds in this dark and gloomy place. But-- those eyes, the slope of his nose, his height, every little feature he narrows in on... It's him. ]
Prompto?