fandomhighdorms | Third Floor Common Room; Sunday Morning [07/21].

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Third Floor Common Room; Sunday Morning [07/21].

Prompto was feeling...better. Not great, by any margin, but well enough that he didn't feel like he was slowly dying. He could actually breathe, even through his nose!, although it was all still a bit sniffly, and he had color back in his skin again that wasn't just freckles standing out in sharp relief against a corpse-grey pallor. Truth be told, he should probably still be in bed resting a little more, but he also had energy again, and he was feeling incredibly restless and really sick of just staring at his own room and his nightstand covered with tissues and cough medicine, even if most of his time there had been spent sleeping since Friday.

And so, wrapped in a blanket because despite the heat outside, Prompto was frickin' freezing his stupid skinny butt off, he shuffled down to the common room and heated up a bowl of chicken soup compliments the best girlfriend ever for breakfast (hey, at least it wasn't Cup Noodle TM?). Then he curled up comfortably on the couch and set to the task of finding out if there was anything good even on TV on a Sunday morning.

The answer? Not really. Like, at all.

Until, of course, he came across an old cowboy shoot-'em-up Western on some old movie station, because you know he'd be all about that sort of thing. And you could tell he really was feeling better because he spent half the time scoffing and criticizing the more unrealistic shots....and then wondering if...actually...no...maybe that could work? He was gonna have to try some of this stuff out...

[[ ohgods, someone please save me from Sunday morning shifts -_- Open common room is open! ]]

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Okay, so, like, first: the jerk had done something to make it harder to get into his room! At least, in her current thumb-less state, and after lurking for a while and realizing that he kind of, like, sounded like he was dying in there (of the disgusting cold variety), Nina didn't even have the heart to go see if he'd been dumb enough to leave a window open for her to sneak in that way.

(For the record, though, she was totally convinced he'd have left a window open after trapping everything else.)

But, like, whatever! That just meant she had to bide her time…

Until, he, the fool (though she was glad he was feeling, like, sort of better?) took up residence in the common room.

Giving her ample time to ambush him! Nina snuck into the common room, flying close to the ceiling, creeping along like a massive creeper, until she was basically overhead to him and… and… dropping down on him!

Bwahaha!

Nina was a terrible person sometimes, why yes.

[Lalala what do you mean it's not still Sunday????]

At least Prompto had finished his bowl of soup and set it aside on the coffee table before being assaulted from above, Nina, because that soup would have gone everywhere. Prompto had just been sitting there, still feeling maybe a few remaining strands of death still working through his system as he got sucked into a good shoot out, when all of a sudden something was dropping onto him from the ceiling, and it didn't matter how sick he was, you just didn't have something drop from the ceiling on you and have it not cause a reaction.

A reaction that was mostly just screaming and flailing limbs and trying to shed off his blanket in an attempt to throw it and use it to capture whatever it was that had just attacked him, with the panicked rush of thinking if he'd felt himself get bit by anything, but, no, no, he was good, he was still Prompto, it hadn't been a gremlin, not unless the bites were painless and took a second to really actually get started, which he knew wasn't usually the case, and he didn't even know if he'd managed to successfully capture the thing in the blanket, and he couldn't really check because the sudden burst of activity had launched him into a coughing fit that had him pretty much doubled over back on the couch again, convinced that his lungs were trying to escape his body through his throat right now.

Oh, man, if whatever just attacked him right now would just go ahead and finish the job, it would be doing him a favor.

[[ <3 what even is time, anyway, really?? ]]

And that… that had been everything she'd wanted, everything she'd hoped, it had been amazing!

Even if, like, having a blanket thrown on her really was a pain. Sigh. Not unexpected but still a pain. At least she now had a better idea of how to manage this, folding her wings flat against her back and wiggling down between the couch cushions to slither her way out and up from under the blanket—leaving her able to squiggle around (Nina was pretty sure there was no dignity in wiggling her pink noodle body along anything; flying was so much more elegant…) until she could poke her head out from between the cushions at the top of the couch to watch Prompto carefully.

Was he going to die? She'd feel bad for laughing, if he did, because… yeah, she was totally laughing at him right now, pleased with herself, her tongue flickering out in a laugh.

[Time is an illusion! <3]

Prompto was not going to die, not today, but he was feeling like he'd basically been dragged through chest-burning brambles right on up to Death's front door with that coughing fit, and once, it sort of settled and left him gasping for breath, he just sort of sat there a moment with a long, pained groan and flopped back against the couch cushions, energy drained, regretting ever having left his bed.

Why was he even here? What was he even doing?

And then he remembered, oh, right, defending yourself against a sudden attacker from the ceiling. So, his grunt reluctant, he rolled his head toward where he'd thrown the blanket, where he assumed the attacker still was, half expecting something to just jump right out and eat his face (just go for it, attacker, please, eat his sinuses and his throbbing headache while you were at it, too!), but instead finding...

"Ugh." Sorry, Nina. Nothing personal, but snakes were still totally gross, even when they were one of your best friends, and Prompto did not have the brain to manage filters right now.

But the relief over the fact that it was just the usual terror to deal with instead of some other one quickly set in as he tried to melt a little into the couch and lifted up a hand in a half-hearted, low-energy, I-just-want-to-go-back-to-bed-now wave.

"Hey, Nina. Still a flying snake thing, huh?"

A flying snake thing attacking your friends who are dying, Nina, GEEZ.

Wow. Wow. Prompto, that was rude!

Ugh????

So sorry she wasn't a Pomeranian! Nina couldn't talk—a fact that Prompto should probably be grateful for right about now—but she could squirm her way up out of the cushions enough to properly flail at him, her little wings emphasizing all the points she couldn't articulate with more than hissing.

She was glad she'd nearly killed you! You could go ahead and properly expire! Vette thought she was adorable and even if, like, snakes weren't usually super cute (because she felt him there, she did) he could at least pretend, for her sake!

Now, Prompto loved dogs, deep down to his very core, but Nina as a pomeranian would be absolutely the worst, they were such yappy dogs, if he knew that was an option, he would still totally take the digusting flying snake.

The disgusting flying snake that was now flailing at him, and he didn't even know why, because he hadn't even entirely realized that he'd worn his distaste for creepy scaly noodly things on his sleeve so brightly. "Whaaaat?" he asked, moaning a little at the idea that now he had to try to translate from snake-flails. And completely misinterpreting the reason why she was upset. "Calm down! I know it's been a while, but you'll be back before you know it. I was a puppy for nearly two weeks, remember?

"And," he noted, because it had to be said, though he sounded much more petulant about it than he would have liked, "I didn't go around sneaking up on people when I was a puppy, either!"

So whatever else she might be upset about...he was not going to apologize for it! He was sick, he was cranky, he'd just been attacked. He was completely innocent of all accusations and charges!

As a snake she could not, like, roll her eyes or toss her hair dramatically, but she could turn her cute little snout up at him, entirely unrepentant in turn, because, like, hello, as a snake, it was her duty to sneak up on people and also, like…

Really, Prompto, she was always sneaking up on people.

… okay, like, maybe the snake thing had some merit. Some.

She leaned close to get a better scent off of him with that flickering tongue of hers, then shrugged her little wings at him.

He probably wasn't going to die, sadly, though he still smelled pretty gross, just so he knew?

Prompto groaned, which was somewhat inspired by the whole snake-tongue thing, but mostly (and that was his story and he was stick to it!) by the fact that he still really did feel like hot garbage right now.

"Plus," he said, tilting his head back and just looking up at the ceiling for a ltitel bit, "I'm sick, Nina. You shouldn't sneak up on sick people, that's not very..." What was the word he was looking for? Chivalrous? No, not that, something like it, sick brain not working... "....honorable, you know..."

Nina considered that.

Like, he already knew she wasn't much of a lady—though she was definitely the lady of the Drama Diamonds, not that that was hard—but, all the same, that was a low blow. She'd meant to be funny, not dishonourable!

Besides, she was still having trouble coming up with any appreciable level of sympathy for him when his first reaction, upon seeing her, had been ugh.

But… still…

Nina hissed out something that might have been a sigh and then wiggled over to tumble down towards his lap.

There. She'd keep him company. He'd have to feel better that way, right? Right?

Yeah. Right. He'd feel better right away with a snake on his lap.

A snake who was his friend, and in any other context, this would be weird and inappropriate.

But he didn't have the strength or energy to fight about it, especially not with Nina, who he knew could out-stubborn him right now even as a snake, and he understood that he was burning up just about as hot as Vette right now (even if he felt chilled to the bone), so he groaned a little, arms going slack at his sides, head still tilted back, and resigned himself to a stubborn snake in his lap.

Although....he figured he at least had one ace in the hole about this situation.

"I swear, Nina," he murmured, closing his eyes, because it made his head stop throbbing at least a little, and also it would be better for everyone if his words turned out to be prophetic, "if you turn back right now, I am never letting you hear the end of it."

Actually, yes. Yes, he would, because he'd be so embarrassed himself that he'd never, ever want to bring it up, ever, just like the whole thing with Vette turning back while on his head, and this whole comment had started out as a way to try to scare Nina off in the event that it did happen, but now he was actually genuinely concerned and regretted ever even oepning his mouth.

Well, with all his ughing and dying she didn't really think he'd want her curled around his neck right now, like, oh my gosh, she was being considerate to keep him company… in his lap…

…

Well. It was a good thing that snakes couldn't blush. Even if she was already a rosy, rosy pink.

She raised her head to survey him doubtfully. Was he, like, trying to curse them? Was he really? Because while having limbs would be nice again (though she'd miss her wings) this would be a terrible time to turn human.

But he was nice and warm and she was comfy so… after a moment, she laid her head down.

She'd risk it.

She might regret that, if he could tell the future, but it was hard to be fussed about that when he was so nicely warm…

"That," Prompto declared, when it became clear that she had just gone and made herself comfortable there in his lap, "is a bold statement, there, Nina."

One he might almost admire her for if it weren't for the incredible sense of dread that went along with the idea of stubbornly thumbing your nose...or, he guessed, in this current moment, flicking your tongue?...at fate. But he said his peice; he gave his warning. It was clearly out of his hands at this point.

In his lap, sure, but out of his hands.

And he was too tired to really care all that much, which was saying a lot, because ther was a damn snake in his lap, and it didn't do much better for him to think that it wasn't a snake in his lap, it was just Nina...

Ugh, he just wanted to get out of his stupid sick-infused room and have some soup and watch cowboys shoot things...

But despite all his internal complains, after a moment, there might have been an almost unconscious move toward petting said snake in his lap. Not dirty. But he was on sick brain right now, and sick brain dictated that there was an animal in his lap, and animals in laps got pets, it was just how the world worked.

Even if that animal was a gross snake.

Who was his friend.

Hey. Maybe this was all just a cold-induced fever-dream?

He was going to start leaning into that, maybe.

Yeah. It was definitely probably just that.

She was not a gross snake, that was just rude and terrible of him, and if she wasn't so happy and warm and… okay, the petting thing was a little weird, but also appreciated and she'd been a sneklace most of the week for Vette so this was… this was… fine?

This was somehow a whole lot weirder. Thanks a lot, Prompto.

But, anyway, for all of his rude insinuations (in so many ways!), Nina did not feel gross. Not… not dirty? What even… She was warm and dry and her scales felt silky, soft almost, but not quite. Rather like really good leather, but if he mentioned that she would be contractually obligated to consider biting him because no one was making a belt out of her.

And did he, like, really want to ruin her good mood now? He could watch his cowboys and she'd pretend to watch with him and it would be fine.

She was all about bold statements, after all, right?

Oh, yeah, sure. He was the one making it weird!

But it wasn't half-bad, really, for having a snake-friend on your lap. And there were cowboy movies, and it's not like they could really chat it up right now or anything, anyway, and he was just so tired still, and he sighed a little, and the next thing he knew he was kind of just drifting off into another nap.

And if Nina didn't notice it right away when just went even more limp on the couch as he drifted off, then she'd definitely at least notice it when the gentle snoring began.

He. Was. Sick. And this whole snake-on-his-lap thing had been surprisingly comfortable, okay?

And Nina? Nina was totally going to giggle the best she could (which wasn't very) about the snoring (she was super going to tease him about it later) but mostly… honestly… the whole napping thing sounded like a good idea?

And, like, even if it was just sleeping, she liked spending time with Prompto… and his… fever… (she was pretty sure he wasn't usually as warm as Vette) made this arrangement very comfortable for her current temperature preferences…

So… she was just going to doze off right along with him.

If, like, anyone else tried to scare him, though, she'd definitely try to bite them. Only she was allowed to do that!

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Third Floor Common Room; Sunday Morning [07/21].

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