((I apologise for taking wild liberties with magic and possibly also with prisons.))
“The infirmary is the weakest point,” Noctis says, pacing in the yard. He looks up at the infirmary: stark brick wall, small window. “I could use magic there.”
“Yeah, if we all got up there without restraints,” Gladio says. “I’m guessing you’re not planning to scale the wall.”
They’d be spotted in a second. Noctis sighs, stops pacing, leans against the wall in question. Closes his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think that would wor—”
His eyes snap open.
“Noct?” Prompto asks.
Noctis presses himself against the wall beneath the infirmary, as flat as he can make himself. He’s not imagining it. That’s power he can feel, real power, magical power flowing through him.
“There’s no anti-magic field here,” he says.
“You’re sure?” Ignis asks instantly.
“Yeah. However they’re blocking it for the infirmary, it goes out a tiny bit past the wall.”
“And down to the ground,” Ignis observes. “I suppose precision is difficult. That would explain why the space below it isn’t used for cells.”
“Wait,” Prompto says. “Does this mean we could seriously do this? I mean, seriously?”
“Any chance you can warp over the wall from here?” Gladio asks.
Noctis looks up at the exterior wall opposite him, the razor wire topping it. He shakes his head. “I’d need to be higher up.”
“And if we were in the infirmary itself?” Ignis asks.
“Through the window?” Noctis asks, craning his neck back to look up at the infirmary. “Yeah, that might work.”
“So we still need to reach the infirmary,” Ignis says. “Unencumbered by straps, ideally.”
Noctis taps his knuckles twice against the wall. “Anyone know what’s on the other side of this?”
“Storage space for heavy-duty cleaning supplies, I believe,” Ignis says. “No inmates permitted.”
“You know a lot about the layout of this place,” Prompto says, looking over at him.
Ignis clears his throat. “I did my research when I thought I might need to break Noct and Gladio out. In the event, their sentences were too short for it to be worthwhile.”
Noctis frowns at him. “You never told me about that.”
“To avoid disappointment if I failed to come up with a workable plan,” Ignis says. “And of course my own arrest complicated things.”
Noctis looks at him for a moment longer, then turns back to the wall. “Well, if it’s storage space, we might be able to tunnel into it without getting caught.”
“You can do that?” Prompto asks. “Magically?”
“I mean, I could break straight through this wall,” Noctis admits, “but it’d make too much noise. We’d be found out right away, and I’m pretty sure they’d fix this magic patch.”
“So what’re you thinking?” Gladio asks.
Noctis conjures up a miniature whirlwind of water in his palm, tiny but ferociously powerful. He presses his hand against the wall behind his back, feels it already beginning to wear away at the brick.
“We go slow,” he says.
-
They spend the whole of rec time leaning against the wall, chatting, while Noctis steadily wears into the brick behind his back. A little before the bell rings, Noctis tries to magically cloak the damage he’s done. It takes a while to get the illusion to match up exactly with the wall around it, but eventually he manages it.
“And that will hold?” Ignis asks.
“Yeah,” Noctis says. “I’ll need to refresh it every couple of days, but it should be okay while we’re in our cells.”
“Is it solid?” Prompto asks.
Noctis reaches out to touch the wall. The tips of his fingers disappear through it, into the shallow hollow he’s worn away.
“Right,” Gladio says. “Anyone puts their hand against that wall, they’ll find our hole.”
“We’ll need to work quickly to avoid discovery,” Ignis says, adjusting his glasses.
“And if we work too quickly, we’ll be discovered,” Prompto says, with a sigh. “Prison breaking is stressful, you guys.”
-
They start hanging out by the wall every day, Noctis pressing as much magic against it as he dares. The fact that the illusion isn’t solid does have one advantage, at least: he can work through the illusion, rather than having to remove it every time and expose the slowly growing hole for all to see.
“My friends, excuse me,” a voice says pleasantly, and Noctis jerks his hand out of what looks like solid brick. It’s Ardyn.
“What do you want?” Gladio demands.
“My, there’s no need to be hostile,” Ardyn says. “I merely came to check on my cellmate. We sleep mere feet apart, and yet it seems I never see him now that the three of you have adopted him.”
Prompto fidgets. Glances at the invisible hole in the wall approximately fifty times. Noctis shoots him a glare, attempting to communicate that this is not a particularly helpful thing to do, which only seems to make Prompto more nervous.
“I can understand the impulse to take him under your wing, of course,” Ardyn says. “He does have a certain wide-eyed, anxious charm.” He reaches out and strokes his fingers along Prompto’s cheek, just for an instant, before Gladio catches hold of his wrist.
They can’t be there all the time, Noctis thinks. They can’t be there all the time. They need to get Prompto out of here as soon as possible.
“I think your time would be better spent elsewhere,” Ignis says, stepping between Ardyn and Prompto.
“Ah, yes,” Ardyn says, his gaze sliding lazily to Noctis. “The friend who murdered for you. You do inspire the most extraordinary loyalty. I wonder how poor Prompto will turn out, now that he seems to have fallen into your inner circle.”
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timeasmymeasure
FILL 4/?: Any/Any or Prompto/Noctis - Prison AU
Date: 2017-03-27 03:18 pm (UTC)“The infirmary is the weakest point,” Noctis says, pacing in the yard. He looks up at the infirmary: stark brick wall, small window. “I could use magic there.”
“Yeah, if we all got up there without restraints,” Gladio says. “I’m guessing you’re not planning to scale the wall.”
They’d be spotted in a second. Noctis sighs, stops pacing, leans against the wall in question. Closes his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think that would wor—”
His eyes snap open.
“Noct?” Prompto asks.
Noctis presses himself against the wall beneath the infirmary, as flat as he can make himself. He’s not imagining it. That’s power he can feel, real power, magical power flowing through him.
“There’s no anti-magic field here,” he says.
“You’re sure?” Ignis asks instantly.
“Yeah. However they’re blocking it for the infirmary, it goes out a tiny bit past the wall.”
“And down to the ground,” Ignis observes. “I suppose precision is difficult. That would explain why the space below it isn’t used for cells.”
“Wait,” Prompto says. “Does this mean we could seriously do this? I mean, seriously?”
“Any chance you can warp over the wall from here?” Gladio asks.
Noctis looks up at the exterior wall opposite him, the razor wire topping it. He shakes his head. “I’d need to be higher up.”
“And if we were in the infirmary itself?” Ignis asks.
“Through the window?” Noctis asks, craning his neck back to look up at the infirmary. “Yeah, that might work.”
“So we still need to reach the infirmary,” Ignis says. “Unencumbered by straps, ideally.”
Noctis taps his knuckles twice against the wall. “Anyone know what’s on the other side of this?”
“Storage space for heavy-duty cleaning supplies, I believe,” Ignis says. “No inmates permitted.”
“You know a lot about the layout of this place,” Prompto says, looking over at him.
Ignis clears his throat. “I did my research when I thought I might need to break Noct and Gladio out. In the event, their sentences were too short for it to be worthwhile.”
Noctis frowns at him. “You never told me about that.”
“To avoid disappointment if I failed to come up with a workable plan,” Ignis says. “And of course my own arrest complicated things.”
Noctis looks at him for a moment longer, then turns back to the wall. “Well, if it’s storage space, we might be able to tunnel into it without getting caught.”
“You can do that?” Prompto asks. “Magically?”
“I mean, I could break straight through this wall,” Noctis admits, “but it’d make too much noise. We’d be found out right away, and I’m pretty sure they’d fix this magic patch.”
“So what’re you thinking?” Gladio asks.
Noctis conjures up a miniature whirlwind of water in his palm, tiny but ferociously powerful. He presses his hand against the wall behind his back, feels it already beginning to wear away at the brick.
“We go slow,” he says.
They spend the whole of rec time leaning against the wall, chatting, while Noctis steadily wears into the brick behind his back. A little before the bell rings, Noctis tries to magically cloak the damage he’s done. It takes a while to get the illusion to match up exactly with the wall around it, but eventually he manages it.
“And that will hold?” Ignis asks.
“Yeah,” Noctis says. “I’ll need to refresh it every couple of days, but it should be okay while we’re in our cells.”
“Is it solid?” Prompto asks.
Noctis reaches out to touch the wall. The tips of his fingers disappear through it, into the shallow hollow he’s worn away.
“Right,” Gladio says. “Anyone puts their hand against that wall, they’ll find our hole.”
“We’ll need to work quickly to avoid discovery,” Ignis says, adjusting his glasses.
“And if we work too quickly, we’ll be discovered,” Prompto says, with a sigh. “Prison breaking is stressful, you guys.”
They start hanging out by the wall every day, Noctis pressing as much magic against it as he dares. The fact that the illusion isn’t solid does have one advantage, at least: he can work through the illusion, rather than having to remove it every time and expose the slowly growing hole for all to see.
“My friends, excuse me,” a voice says pleasantly, and Noctis jerks his hand out of what looks like solid brick. It’s Ardyn.
“What do you want?” Gladio demands.
“My, there’s no need to be hostile,” Ardyn says. “I merely came to check on my cellmate. We sleep mere feet apart, and yet it seems I never see him now that the three of you have adopted him.”
Prompto fidgets. Glances at the invisible hole in the wall approximately fifty times. Noctis shoots him a glare, attempting to communicate that this is not a particularly helpful thing to do, which only seems to make Prompto more nervous.
“I can understand the impulse to take him under your wing, of course,” Ardyn says. “He does have a certain wide-eyed, anxious charm.” He reaches out and strokes his fingers along Prompto’s cheek, just for an instant, before Gladio catches hold of his wrist.
They can’t be there all the time, Noctis thinks. They can’t be there all the time. They need to get Prompto out of here as soon as possible.
“I think your time would be better spent elsewhere,” Ignis says, stepping between Ardyn and Prompto.
“Ah, yes,” Ardyn says, his gaze sliding lazily to Noctis. “The friend who murdered for you. You do inspire the most extraordinary loyalty. I wonder how poor Prompto will turn out, now that he seems to have fallen into your inner circle.”