He was already on his feet when he woke up, with a helmet on his head and wearing far too much armor. He could still feel the ring, digging into his knuckle beneath a gauntlet that may as well have been bonded to his skin for how tight it was.
He looked around and found himself lined up with dozens of others, all wearing the exact same armor. Considering how many of them he had filled full of bullets and riddled with holes, he could recognize magitek soldiers in an instant.
And he was lined up with them, like cattle. This wasn’t quite what he meant by ‘anywhere else.’
He heard a digital, mechanized shrieking noise and didn't realize he had started screaming until every other MT around him was staring at him impassively.
He started pulling at the armor, gauntlets scrabbling over metal until it was leaking some black, viscous ooze.
As if with one voice, the MTs surrounding him intoned, "Unit malfunction."
He backed up, only to back into the MT behind him. Hands landed on his shoulders, holding him in place as the unit in front of him turned and advanced the short distance.
At first he thought he was going to be hauled off to a lab for some sort of reprogramming, but then he remembered that MTs were a dime a dozen, disposable, and replaceable. Right before his helmet was wrenched from above his shoulders.
He woke up in the grass, to a warm, pleasant breeze ruffling his feathers.
…Wait a minute.
With a squawk--a very literal squawk--Prompto hopped to his feet, talons snagging in the grass and sending him right back down to the ground in a heap of too-gangly legs.
Much more carefully, he disentangled himself from…himself and stood up, and stared down at as much of himself as he could see. He saw feathers. Bright yellow feathers. And talons, the ring still clasped around one of them. He took off at a sprint for the nearest puddle and stared down at his reflection.
He was a chocobo. A slightly shrimpy chocobo, but a chocobo nonetheless. There were three other chocobos watching his antics with long-suffering fondness.
An equally shrimpy black chocobo with familiar blue eyes. A larger white chocobo with green eyes, busily preening the black one. And another black chocobo the size of a garula, prowling defensively through the valley.
With a delighted 'kweh!' Prompto danced in place before taking off towards Noct. Ignis threw himself out of the way at the last instant, just in time for Prompto crash into Noct. They went down in a puff of feathers and a tangle of legs, only for Prompto to immediately pry himself free of the tangle and go fleeing across the valley with Noct hot on his heels.
They raced in circles around Gladio until they wound up crashing right into him. The giant of a chocobo didn't even budge, at least not until he ducked his head under Noct and tossed him out of the way, and then tossed Prompto aside in much the same way. He fluffed all of his feathers out and stalked away from their shenanigans as Prompto tried to kick his way back to his feet from where he had landed on his back.
Prompto had never heard or seen a chocobo sigh in all-encompassing exasperation, but Noct managed it admirably before he ducked his head and effectively bulldozed him back to his feet.
Prompto spent a few minutes preening Noct's crest in thanks.
They chased sabertusks after that, herding them around the valley until they fled back through the hills, and then Prompto and Noct charged into the pond and paddled in circles, legs kicking and wings fluttering, splashing water everywhere until Gladio and Ignis gave up on pretending they could stay dry and waded in after them.
Prompto chased fireflies through the marsh grass as the sun went down, catching them in his beak only to immediately let them go. He tossed himself back into the pond as the moon was high in the sky, keeping himself awake even as Ignis and Gladio bedded down in the clover. He didn't want to go to sleep just yet.
Noct stood at the edge of the pond, chirping at him encouragingly until at last Prompto gave in. He paddled back to the grass and shook himself, water flying in all directions and feathers puffing out until he looked more like a dandelion with legs than a chocobo.
He followed Noct back to where Ignis and Gladio were already curled together. They painstakingly wedged their way into the knot of birds and laid down, Prompto's neck curved so his head rested on his wing and Noct's head on Prompto's neck.
The air smelled like oncoming rain, but the breeze was gentle and for the moment it was warm, and Prompto was surrounded by feathers, both his own and his friends'. He nestled his beak under the edge of his wing and slowly fell asleep.
Re: Fill: If the Ring Fits 5/?
He looked around and found himself lined up with dozens of others, all wearing the exact same armor. Considering how many of them he had filled full of bullets and riddled with holes, he could recognize magitek soldiers in an instant.
And he was lined up with them, like cattle. This wasn’t quite what he meant by ‘anywhere else.’
He heard a digital, mechanized shrieking noise and didn't realize he had started screaming until every other MT around him was staring at him impassively.
He started pulling at the armor, gauntlets scrabbling over metal until it was leaking some black, viscous ooze.
As if with one voice, the MTs surrounding him intoned, "Unit malfunction."
He backed up, only to back into the MT behind him. Hands landed on his shoulders, holding him in place as the unit in front of him turned and advanced the short distance.
At first he thought he was going to be hauled off to a lab for some sort of reprogramming, but then he remembered that MTs were a dime a dozen, disposable, and replaceable. Right before his helmet was wrenched from above his shoulders.
He woke up in the grass, to a warm, pleasant breeze ruffling his feathers.
…Wait a minute.
With a squawk--a very literal squawk--Prompto hopped to his feet, talons snagging in the grass and sending him right back down to the ground in a heap of too-gangly legs.
Much more carefully, he disentangled himself from…himself and stood up, and stared down at as much of himself as he could see. He saw feathers. Bright yellow feathers. And talons, the ring still clasped around one of them. He took off at a sprint for the nearest puddle and stared down at his reflection.
He was a chocobo. A slightly shrimpy chocobo, but a chocobo nonetheless. There were three other chocobos watching his antics with long-suffering fondness.
An equally shrimpy black chocobo with familiar blue eyes. A larger white chocobo with green eyes, busily preening the black one. And another black chocobo the size of a garula, prowling defensively through the valley.
With a delighted 'kweh!' Prompto danced in place before taking off towards Noct. Ignis threw himself out of the way at the last instant, just in time for Prompto crash into Noct. They went down in a puff of feathers and a tangle of legs, only for Prompto to immediately pry himself free of the tangle and go fleeing across the valley with Noct hot on his heels.
They raced in circles around Gladio until they wound up crashing right into him. The giant of a chocobo didn't even budge, at least not until he ducked his head under Noct and tossed him out of the way, and then tossed Prompto aside in much the same way. He fluffed all of his feathers out and stalked away from their shenanigans as Prompto tried to kick his way back to his feet from where he had landed on his back.
Prompto had never heard or seen a chocobo sigh in all-encompassing exasperation, but Noct managed it admirably before he ducked his head and effectively bulldozed him back to his feet.
Prompto spent a few minutes preening Noct's crest in thanks.
They chased sabertusks after that, herding them around the valley until they fled back through the hills, and then Prompto and Noct charged into the pond and paddled in circles, legs kicking and wings fluttering, splashing water everywhere until Gladio and Ignis gave up on pretending they could stay dry and waded in after them.
Prompto chased fireflies through the marsh grass as the sun went down, catching them in his beak only to immediately let them go. He tossed himself back into the pond as the moon was high in the sky, keeping himself awake even as Ignis and Gladio bedded down in the clover. He didn't want to go to sleep just yet.
Noct stood at the edge of the pond, chirping at him encouragingly until at last Prompto gave in. He paddled back to the grass and shook himself, water flying in all directions and feathers puffing out until he looked more like a dandelion with legs than a chocobo.
He followed Noct back to where Ignis and Gladio were already curled together. They painstakingly wedged their way into the knot of birds and laid down, Prompto's neck curved so his head rested on his wing and Noct's head on Prompto's neck.
The air smelled like oncoming rain, but the breeze was gentle and for the moment it was warm, and Prompto was surrounded by feathers, both his own and his friends'. He nestled his beak under the edge of his wing and slowly fell asleep.