By the hands of the Gods, you have been plucked from your time and from your world, dropped into the box.
Only the box is a world of its own.
We are a mass crossover based on the concept of Pandora's Box. Characters from nearly any fandom can be played here. Because of the endless character possibilities, we are canon only here at Pandora. Take a peek at our rules and plot information before starting your new life in Pandora.
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Complete tell me what is real and what is all in my head

This roleplay has reached its conclusion.
Description
twf the illusion of your boyfriend has gotten glasses and a haircut

Prompto Argentum

Final Fantasy
Posts
72
Age
20
Gender
Male
Pronouns
He/him
Species
Human
Height
5'8 (173 cm)
Occupation
Freelance Photographer
Relationship Status
-gay shrugging-
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June 12th
@Akira Kurusu
--------------------

Ardyn was not around right at that moment, and Prompto did not trust that. One would think the moments of reprieve from the man would have been a blessing, something to look forward to amidst the general awfulness of this situation. But when he couldn't be sure if the moments were actually true - another illusion could be right around the corner - how could he even begin to relax? Prompto half expected to see Noct walking around the corner, but he knew it wouldn't really be his friend. How many times had he seen Noct here, a beautifully rendered illusion that he so desperately wished was the real thing? He was so, so very tired.

Prom didn't even have the strength to yell out when black cords, or vines, or something, sprouted out of the ground and wound their way up his legs. He was pulled from the rack he was tied up on, pulled into the ground, into darkness, and he could not bring himself to make a sound as it happened. As far as Ardyn's typical illusions up to this point, this one was definitely new. Ardyn was getting creative, it seemed.

The breath left him in one low gasp as he fell a few feet to land in a dumpster. The sky was beautifully blue, the air warm, maybe a bit stuffy. His body was screaming at him for the rough landing, but he was mostly too tired to care at this point. The pain was a constant, as were the doubts and insecurities and questions. Prompto didn't try to pull himself out of the trash, just laid there, waiting to see what fresh hell Ardyn was about to bestow upon him. Noctis showing up and telling him the trash was where he belonged? Or maybe he'd climb out of this dumpster just to change into an MT again and be chased through this random, made up city by his best friend until he couldn't run another step. Either way, it could wait. Prompto was just gonna sit here in the trash until something forced him to move.
 
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Akira Kurusu

Persona
Joker
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1,533
Age
18
Alias
Communal House Husband
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He/Him
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Human
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Akira leaned his back against the brick that was the outside of the cafe. His gaze up on the cloudless summer sky, as he allowed his brain to just sort of...drift to nothing in particular. Since being gently reset as Akira from Ren, he...was feeling a lot better, honestly. Everything that was messing with his head before, felt like someone else's problem. At least the negative stuff. The positives he just sort of leaned into - even if he did feel some distance from them, too. But that was alright. With time, Pandora would feel like it was supposed to.

He was on a break. Eventually he'd have to go back to doing customer service things. But for now, he could just enjoy the silence of not having to deal with people complaining their hot beverage was too hot. While he enjoyed running a cafe, sometimes the dealing-with-people end wore on him. He just...really didn't want to deal with it. But, it was part of the job, so he sucked it up.

Then a portal opened up over a dumpster, and dropped someone inside.

Huh. What an entrance.

Akira slowly walked over to the dumpster, before peering over the edge - making a point to not actually touch the rim of it. A blond freckled guy about his age. Looked...rough.

"Hey," he greeted, "You look like garbage," a ghost of a smile pulled at his lips - before it faded, realizing that was a mean introduction to a stranger, "You...alright? And uh...welcome to Pandora."

Akira offered a hand for him to take - but gave him some room. It was hard to not...recognize some of those wounds from his time with the police. And he knew the last thing he wanted after that, was for a stranger to get within his personal space.
 
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Prompto Argentum

Final Fantasy
Posts
72
Age
20
Gender
Male
Pronouns
He/him
Species
Human
Height
5'8 (173 cm)
Occupation
Freelance Photographer
Relationship Status
-gay shrugging-
Profile
link
Prompto looked up at the sound of scuffling feet to see... Noct? Noct with a new hairstyle and glasses. And his voice was different, too, when he spoke. This was... weird. Ardyn's illusions were so realistic it was hard to tell truth from fiction, but this was... very obviously not Noct, despite the similarities. He didn't think it was like Ardyn to mess this up so obviously. But what was going on, then?

But still, the guy's words had drawn a flinch out of him, recoiling as the words he had expected to hear from his prince came out of this almost-Noctis.But well, as his gaze shifted back to the guy, he did have to give him some credit for the shitty joke. It was the exact kind of joke he would have made, once upon a time. If he had been on the other side of the dumpster. He was lying in a pile of trash, and though he had not looked in a mirror in the time in Ardyn's keep, he didn't need to to know he looked pretty bad. Torture tended to have that effect.

Prompto looked between the almost-Noct and his hand for a moment, but he didn't reach out to take it. "Pandora?" What kind of fucked up illusion was this? "You're not Noctis. Where's Noct?"

His head fell back, and he really, trully did not care that he was lying in trash. His wrists were grateful from the release of the strain of carrying his weight, of course, but he knew, realistically, that they were still doing just that. This was just an illusion, after al, albeit a really strange one.

"What are you playing at, Ardyn; this isn't Noct." His voice wasn't anything more than a talking level, but he knew the man - wherever he was - would hear him all the same.
 
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Akira Kurusu

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Joker
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18
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Communal House Husband
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No smile or even laugh at the bad joke, but that was okay. Probably...wasn't the best way to greet someone falling into trash. Akira tilted his head at being asked where 'knocked' was.

"Knocked...what?" he quietly asked, watching as garbage-man fell back into it; Akira silently recalling what each of those bags held, since Leblanc was the only one to use this dumpster. Mostly coffee grounds at least. The trash almost smelled nice, occasionally. Just...not today. They made food, too - so scraps of things and leftovers gave it that exciting rotting smell.

Akira pulled back his hand when it wasn't taken, not taking any offense to it. There...was clearly a lot going on for him. The wounds and confusion weren't exactly helped by the fact he was in a new world.

"Um..." Akira scratched his neck, as garbage-man started to talk to someone who wasn't there - again mentioning the word knocked. Maybe...it was a name? Or a location? Hard to tell.

"I...should probably explain," he realized - silently sorting through the details of Pandora to try to make it as consumable as possible, "Wherever you were before, you aren't now. Pandora is...a whole separate thing. You're taken from your Universe, and brought here for awhile. Eventually you'll go back to the point you left. But...for now, you're stuck here. Sorry," his voice falling a bit soft, as his gaze fell away.

It was easy to pull judgements from the injuries, but hearing you were stuck away from home - away from people you knew...was never easy. Hopefully he'd be lucky enough to have some friends here already. And if not...well, at least Akira could help him out for awhile.
 
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Prompto Argentum

Final Fantasy
Posts
72
Age
20
Gender
Male
Pronouns
He/him
Species
Human
Height
5'8 (173 cm)
Occupation
Freelance Photographer
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-gay shrugging-
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The almost-Noct was as confused as Prompto was, it seemed. And Prom's confusion only grew as the boy spoke more, explaining this "Pandora". This was... just an illusion right? This had to be an illusion. The weirdest trick Ardyn had played on him yet. Making him think he's safe and free only to put Noct in front of his face remind him he'd never be free? Prom didn't know, and he was so tired of trying to guess what Ardyn was going to do next.

He really didn't understand the point of almost-Noctis, though.

But then... he as pretty sure he hadn't been in an illusion when the vines had grabbed him. The last thing he'd remembered was the cliff one, being pushed off by Noct. He'd come back to himself to Ardyn's taunts and then the man had left him hanging there alone. Ardyn was usually around to taunt and gloat over the illusions, trying to drag out even more of a reaction out of him. The times he was absent were usually when he was making Prom think Noct had come to the Keep.

But this was not the Keep, this was a dumpster. So... maybe this was real? Maybe almost-Noctis wasn't a really fucked up illusion?

His gaze returned to the other guy, and he slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position, stifling a faint groan at the spike in pain. "So this is... this is real?" Why was he asking? Even if the guy was an illusion, what did Prom expect? No, I'm just fucking with you, I'm totally an illusion, haha. "This is some... new world, kinda thing? Alternate dimension?" It was like something out of a video game. "So... assuming this isn't just some fucked up illusion, what... am I supposed to do now?"

Get out of the dumpster, for one.
 
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Akira Kurusu

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18
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Real versus not real was...a unique thing to be concerned about. Probably meant he had doubted things he had seen in the past, maybe? Or...something. Coming into Pandora was pretty jarring, though. Akira and the others had a slight leg-up thanks to experiencing the Metaverse. But...most people didn't have even that.

"Pretty sure if I wasn't real, I'd still answer that this was real," he pointed out, as dumpster-boy started to put the pieces together.

"Yeah...pretty much," he shrugged, "Lots of different universes and worlds converge here. Think...bad 3AM scifi movie plot, but real," his voice continuing to be flat - having no real idea if that comparison would mean anything.

"Now...probably get out of the dumpster, unless you're really comfortable in there," he reasoned, "Maybe head inside? Can offer you some free food and medical stuff, if you want it. I'm Akira, by the way," he offered his hand again, knowing there was a heavy chance it'd be ignored...but he just had to offer it one more time now that garbage-man actually understood what was happening.
 
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Prompto Argentum

Final Fantasy
Posts
72
Age
20
Gender
Male
Pronouns
He/him
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Human
Height
5'8 (173 cm)
Occupation
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-gay shrugging-
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"Fair enough," he said with a shrug as the boy mirrored his own thoughts on the way an illusion would likely answer that question. At least they were on the same page there. At the mention of food, Prom's stomach let out a growl, and he smiled sheepishly as he took the boy's offered hand this time.

"Does it also come with the shitty monsters and awfully written plotlines?" Those were the best parts of shitty 3AM movies. He had liked to watch them with Noct and make fun of how awful they were and how many plotholes managed to fill the story. Those were nice times, back before all of the roadtrip stuff had started. Prompto missed them.

He stumbled a bit pushing himself over the edge of the dumpster, even with Akira's help, It was... weird, to be touching someone else. For a brief moment, he expected pain to follow after it, for something to shift and the boy to change the way he was treating Prompto. That's... what would happen, if this was an Ardyn illusion. But... it didn't. There was no look of disgust from Akira, no cruel laugh, no taunts, no pain. Just... him, standing there as Prompto straightened his shirt. "Prompto. Nice to meet you, dude. You're, uh... acting real chill about having someone fall into your dumpster - I'm assuming it's your dumpster, I mean. Sorry if it's not, dude. Are these kinda entrances into this place just... normal?"

His hands almost instinctively traveled to the pocket he kept his camera in, pulling it out to see... the lens cracked. Somewhere between Ardyn's rough treatment and his awkward landing, things had not fared well for the glass. But... that was okay. If this place was real, he could just get it fixed, right? At least he still had it. Had the memory card with the photos of their journey. The photos of his friends. Prom had been surprised, honestly, that Ardyn hadn't taken it along with his guns, but, well. He certainly wasn't going to complain.
 
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Akira Kurusu

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Joker
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Age
18
Alias
Communal House Husband
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He/Him
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"Don't forget the really bad acting," an actual smile spreading across Akira's features, as he helped dumpster-guy out, "And plenty of Deus Ex Machina."

He...was in worse shape than Akira had originally thought. But at least he knew better than to draw attention to it - outside of quietly noting what sort of medical help he'd need. Akira wasn't a doctor, and didn't pretend to be one. But there were plenty of times in the Metaverse that they were trying to conserve energy and did things the old fashioned way. At least nothing seemed broken - at a glance anyway.

"My dumpster," he clarified, before hooking his thumb over his shoulder, "My cafe. And...yeah, pretty much," a shrug of his shoulders, as he watched Prompto examined a camera, which seemed to be sort of...broken, judging by his reaction.

"You can probably find someone to fix that in Pandora," he remarked, before shoving his hands into his pockets, and motioning at the building with his chin, "C'mon. Food."
 

Prompto Argentum

Final Fantasy
Posts
72
Age
20
Gender
Male
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He/him
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Human
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5'8 (173 cm)
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-gay shrugging-
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"A staple of 3am movies, of course," he agreed, letting out a quiet laugh. It felt... wrong, almost, to laugh and smile like he was no different than he had been before he had fallen off that train. Before... Noct had pushed him off. An accident, Prom knew, orchestrated by Ardyn, but it still hurt, nonetheless. Things were... confusing, and chaotic, and a part of him was still sure this would all dissolve into a chaotic illusion at any moment, but... He was still, himself, right? Ardyn could hurt him and trap him in illusion after illusion until Prom wasn't sure what was real or not, but he couldn't take away who Prom was. If it felt wrong to laugh again well... all he could do was keep doing it until it felt right again.

Well, as painful as his body currently was, at least it didn't feel like anything was broken. Very bruised, very sore ribs, sure, but still in one piece. Pocketing his camera once again, he simply nodded in response to the boy's statement that he could find someone to fix it here. From... this one back of a cafe alley, this place seemed... weirdly normal. Like any behind a cafe alley he'd find back in the Crown City. He was quiet for a moment as he followed behind Akira, processing this new information. It was... a lot.

"So you own a cafe. How long have you been in this place?"
 
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Akira Kurusu

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Prompto seemed to be slowly figuring out how to exist in Pandora. Akira knew first hand how it was...a lot. He had dealt with it...four times in total. Entering Pandora, remembering the new variations and third semester, the summer that followed, and...being reset as Akira. The last one was easily the most disorienting, outside of the entry to Pandora itself. He hadn't instantly remembered everything, because it wasn't him. It all crawled back, leaving him with a screaming headache for the rest of the day.

So...yeah, he got it.

Akira held open the back door to Leblanc, and waved Prompto in.

"Uh...almost three years at this point," he recalled, as they entered the kitchen area in the back of Leblanc. Nobody was in the back at the moment, since it was later in the day, and everything was already prepped.

"Head upstairs, and I'll meet you up there. Also bathroom just to your left if you need it," he motioned at the stairs that shot off just next to the kitchen, and the slightly ajar door next to them.

The attic...was sort of like Leblanc's attic from back home, but a bit smaller. A handful industrial metal supply shelves, filled with non-perishable items for the cafe, and backup cups. But more importantly, there was an old very comfortable couch that everyone treated like a breakroom.

Akira silently retrieved a plate from the cabinet - putting a generous helping of curry on it. He considered grabbing coffee but...water would probably be better for Prompto, for now. Grabbing a napkin, he headed upstairs.
 
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Prompto Argentum

Final Fantasy
Posts
72
Age
20
Gender
Male
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He/him
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Human
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-gay shrugging-
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"Three years?" That was.... That was a long time. He had been here all of like, ten minutes, and trying to wrap his head around being here for years was going to give him a headache. Add to that the fact that, from what he'd said, he could be whisked away from all of this without a moment's notice... Yeah this place was gonna just give him a headache to think about on a good day, and today was definitely not a good day. "That's... You really just get dumped here to find a whole new life for yourself, huh?"

The kitchen area was empty, and Prom just kinda stood there awkwardly looking around until Akira pointed the way to the stairs. He simply nodded, heading towards the bathroom to splash some water on his face, look at his reflection for the first time in... days? weeks? months? Prompto wasn't sure. Time had seemed to blur together, one illusion feeding into the next, the lengths of time between them just blank space as his mind mentally shut down before the onslaught. And yeah, he looked like shit. Bruises, cuts and scrapes, dark circles under his eyes. He wet his hands and brushed his hair into a semblance of its proper shape, sighing as he gripped the edge of the sink.

He wondered what Noctis would think of this place. Prom would give anything to have him at his side again, even just to see him again. The actual him, not some awful illusion of him that existed only to torment and be cruel to him. Prompto wasn't sure if Noctis would accept him for who and what he was, wasn't sure that the truth wouldn't divide them and push him away, but... Well, he would never know if he didn't try to explain. He couldn't change who he was, couldn't change the past. He could only trust that Noctis would remain the man that he loved. Would still want to be friends with a loser like him.

Climbing the stairs to the next floor - an attic space, of sorts, with shelves of stuff for the cafe and a comfy looking couch, he paused for a moment, the familiar feeling of not belonging washing over him. It was like the first times he had visited Noct at the palace, feeling rough and out of place, a feeling that had never truly left him any time he had been around his friend. This was a place where people belonged, had made their own and made cozy and comfortable and safe. And Prompto was a stranger that had only just arrived and didn't belong. He was intruding, once again, into a world that he didn't match up in, just left to pray that no one would realize he didn't fit and make him leave.

He was still just standing in the middle in front of the couch when Akira climbed the stairs, and Prom's eyes fell to the plate of curry he held. "Why go through all this effort for someone you don't even know?" Maybe hypocritical of him to question why someone would help him when he knew damn well he would do the same thing in a reverse situation. And yet... he could not help but shake the part of him that was sure, somehow, that this was simply Ardyn's worst illusion yet. Drop him into a fake world with a guy that looked almost like Noctis, who was kind to him and offered him help and answered his questions, let him stew in it and think he was safe, only to rip it all away once he let his guard down. It was just the type of cruelty that Prom would expect from the man.
 
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Akira Kurusu

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Alias
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Prompto was standing in the middle of the attic when Akira arrived...which made it easy enough for him to offer forward the plate of curry (with fork balanced on top), and glass of water.

Akira made a point to not sit on the couch, still eyeing those wounds of his - mixed with his initial reluctance to grab his hand to get out of the dumpster. Someone had done that to him. So, he just motioned for Prompto to sit down, as he leaned his back against one of the supply shelves, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

The question was fair enough.

Akira shrugged, hands still in his pockets, "The world is a shitty and cruel place, so I do what I can to make it a little bit...less," he admitted in a flat tone.

And...that was the truth. As simple as it was. Because of people who did stuff like this, he became the person he was - and there was no denying that. He owed his friends everything - and the least he could do, was help out other people in the same way that they had helped him.

"Do you want me to grab my medical kit?"
 
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Prompto Argentum

Final Fantasy
Posts
72
Age
20
Gender
Male
Pronouns
He/him
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Human
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5'8 (173 cm)
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Prompto took the plate and cup with a mumbled "Thanks," before gingerly taking a seat on the couch, lifting the fork to his mouth while he listened to Akira's answer. The curry was good, good enough to match what Iggy could have put together. It... was a fair enough answer, too. He took a few more bites of the food before the question registered in his mind, and his gaze traveled to one of the visible wounds.

"That... would probably be a good idea, yeah," he admitted quietly. What was the worst that could happen, really? Either this was all real - and Prom needed to get himself fixed up before it was allowed to become a problem - or it was an illusion - and it would come apart around him no matter what he did. At this point, he was too tired to fight it if it did fall apart.

He did hope that if it was an illusion, it would end soon. The longer it went on, the worse it would be when it fell apart, he knew. Which was why, he was certain, Ardyn would not end this any time soon. If it was Ardyn at all, of course. Nothing but time could really prove to him that this was, in fact, real. It wasn't like he could really do anything to prove this wasn't an illusion.

He looked up as Akira returned with the medical kit, holding up his fork. "This is real good, dude. And... thanks, again, for all this."
 
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Akira made a faint affirmative grunt, before he pushed his back off the shelf and walked back downstairs to the bathroom. The medical kit really wasn't anything special. A few times things had to be replaced from use, but it was fairly standard. Things to sanitize, wrap, and generally fix most basic injuries. Plus a handful of painkillers and fever reducers.

Akira briefly opened it up after grabbing it - making sure it wasn't missing anything important - before walking back upstairs, and setting the box gently next to Prompto.

"Yeah," he shrugged, setting himself back against the shelf with his hands in his pockets, "Just...glad I was back there when I was. Uh..." he scratched his neck, "Do you...need help with treating any of your injuries? I'm...not a doctor, but I used to intern for one," which was a very generous way to explain the work he did for Doctor Takemi.
 
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Prompto Argentum

Final Fantasy
Posts
72
Age
20
Gender
Male
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Prompto's eyes drifted towards the cut on his arm, right above the wristbrand that hid his barcode. The barcode that proclaimed he was a clone, meant to be an MT, meant to kill his friends. If this was an illusion, if it was leading anywhere... that's what it would be about, right? This almost-Noct seeing his barcode, seeing what he was, and everything falling apart. If this place was real... well, his barcode wouldn't mean anything then, right? It was... such a simple test.

"That... would be good, yeah. Thanks, dude. I don't really got... any experience with this kinda stuff," he said with a shrug. A white lie, he knew enough basic knowledge he could probably take care of at least some of this himself. "I don't think there's too much that actually needs to be bandaged. This here on my arm, I think something around my ribs. Most of it's just... bruising, I think." In his defense, he was pretty out of it for most of the physical stuff.

Was it probably stupid of him to just sit here and invite Ardyn to fuck with him by offering this guy the chance to see his barcode? Probably. But Prompto was so tired of the games, of the doubts, the uncertainty. Of not being able to trust what his eyes were telling him. If this was an illusion... better to just let it fall apart now rather than let it continue to drag out, to become something worse. Because surely he couldn't get any more definitive proof than the fact that his barcode meant nothing in this place.
 
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Akira wasn't actually expecting Prompto to accept the offer. It had taken genuine coaxing for him to see Takemi after his death was faked. Yes, he hurt - but the idea of anyone putting hands on him after...that, was a lot. Even if he trusted her, he just...wanted to keep to himself for awhile. He still went, since Sojiro was fairly certain he had a concussion (he did).

But Prompto wasn't him, and he wasn't Prompto. The fact was simple: he didn't know what caused the injuries, even if they looked familiar to Akira. Not everyone had to have a dramatic and dark backstory. Sometimes people just came into Pandora from a JRPG-esk fight - which was a normal and not traumatic part of their world.

"No problem," his voice quiet, as he picked up the medical kit, and sat down next to Prompto. Turning towards him, he crossed his legs and set the kit on his lap. Carefully, he opened it - pulling out what he needed and setting it on top of the case, before pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. Akira purposefully snapped them, and shot Prompto a slight smirk, that would hopefully help any sort of...nerves that came with literally everything that was happening.

Akira held out a hand for Prompto to place his arm in - still being over-mindful of making movements to grab him. His eyes fell to the cut that was close to some sort of bracelet.

"Would...it be alright if you took that off? It'll be easier to wrap if it's out of the way," he observed, glancing over at Prompto from over the top of his glasses.
 
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Final Fantasy
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Prompto took a few more bites of the curry before setting it aside for the time being, giving Akira's smirk a quiet laugh. He wanted his barcode to mean nothing for so many reasons. He wanted to be free of Ardyn. He wanted to actually have a chance to get to know this guy in front of him, he seemed pretty great. He wanted to be able to put his pain behind him and learn to move on. He wanted the chance to get to see Noct again somewhere that wasn't swamped with the problems they had been dealing with in their own world.

He wanted the chance for this place to be a home, maybe.

Maybe stupid of him, to be looking so far ahead when he still wasn't sure this place was even real. But who was he if not the boy that would cling to even the thinnest sliver of hope?

So he held out his arm for Akira's waiting hand, eyes falling to the bracelet over his barcode. At Akira's question, he just... nodded, retracted his arm, and... hesitated a moment before just... pulling it off. He was a body made of tension as he held his arm back out, the stark black lines of the barcode on his wrist consuming his vision, a spring so tightly wound he felt he would simply snap instead.

So. either everything would be okay, and he'd know he was free... Or this was about to get really, really bad.
 
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Akira Kurusu

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Akira felt the tension at the question...but didn't understand why it was there. He made a point to not make any sudden moves or even push the issue. Instead, he was just silent as Prompto slowly pulled back his arm, and removed the bracelet.

"Oh, cool tattoo," a smile brushed his lips again as he accepted the arm again - gently rubbing his rubber-glove clad thumb over the tattoo once, before he started to get to work on the cut in question.

His knee-jerk reaction was that it was some sort of punk-rock-esk statement. A nod to consumerism being a poison and how people and their data were no different from any other product on a shelf.

But...Prompto's reaction felt like it wasn't that.

Akira eyed him slightly, as he started to disinfect the cut just above the tattoo, "Doing okay?" his voice soft, as his fingers moved the cotton-ball with some solution, over the cut, "Don't think this'll need stitches at least. But...probably going to put a butterfly bandaid on it, to help it heal," he normally wasn't...talkative, and to normal people this wasn't. But Akira was forcing himself a bit, because Prompto was somehow quieter than him.

Entering Pandora was...rough.
The least he could do was make it just a bit better.
 

Prompto Argentum

Final Fantasy
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Oh.

Okay so, not the reaction he had expected. But what had he really been expecting? Cruel laughs? MT armor to suddenly appear and Akira to morph into Noctis and run him through with his sword? The world to dissolve into chaos and flames the moment Akira laid eyes on the barcode?

The tension inside him broke when Akira asked how he was doing, his eyes finally leaving the barcode and Akira's hands on his wrist to look at Akira in wonder, a quiet, shaky laugh falling out of him. "You're actually real. This is real..."

It was over. For the time being, at least. Akira had said he'd return to the point he'd been taken, but for now... For now, he was free. From the pain, the torment, the endless illusions. It was over. He gave another shaky laugh, hanging his head as he blinked back the tears that suddenly appeared in his eyes with the overwhelming wave of relief. "Gods, this is great." He was sitting on a stranger's couch, being far more vulnerable than he had ever been with anyone before, but he honestly didn't care right in that moment. Because Akira was real. Pandora was real.

Prompto finally pulled himself out of it, back into the present, shaking his head. "Wrist one isn't so bad, I think the one on my ribs is worse?" A slight shrug of his shoulders. "Should probably still be fine, either way."
 
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Akira Kurusu

Persona
Joker
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1,533
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18
Alias
Communal House Husband
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He/Him
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Human
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5'9"
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Cafe LeBlanc Deux
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Chaotic Neutral
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Something about Akira's reaction to the barcode seemed to...shift something. The tension that had been building, dissolved in seconds.

Good, he was feeling better.

The words that followed...hurt. Not in an insulted way to Akira, but the implications behind them. Prompto had questioned reality several times since he first saw him in the dumpster. At first he took it as general denial that Pandora was real, but...it was slowly becoming clearer and clearer that there was more to it than that.

Akira' studied him from behind his glasses, wondering what - exactly - he had been pulled from. Doubting reality, looking like he had been beaten within an inch of his life. Nothing good, was the simple answer.

"I need to have a word with my writers, if I'm not real," his tone flat, as he finished putting two small butterfly Band-Aids over the wound, before grabbing a bit of gauze. Technically it would be fine as-is, but...with how the bandages were already set, it would be impossible for Prompto to comfortably put that bracelet back on. And...considering his reaction to Akira seeing it, he felt like he shouldn't take away the ability to cover it up. So he wrapped the butterfly band-aids with two loose-enough wraps of bandage; covering the tattoo in the process.

"See? Pandora isn't so bad," another gentle smile on his lips, noticing the glassy look to Prompto's very blue eyes. He gave his arm a faint squeeze - both to say he was done, and to just...say it'd be okay. Akira knew better than anyone that his touch didn't mean much of anything at the moment - but sometimes just having someone not hurt you with it, was more than enough.

"Rib one probably needs it more than wrist did," he guessed, "Clothing rubbing on it, and stuff. Could you lift your shirt, so I can take a look?"

Akira was careful with his words, knowing it'd be too easy to make it weird. Once they actually got to know each other, he wouldn't have a problem with just telling Prompto to strip, and fix the wound that way. But...Prompto was still figuring out this was real. He didn't want to make it any harder, or more complicated than it needed to be.
 
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