[they talked about carl before, but prompto knows that carl isn't markus's "maker" but a father figure. he wonders what the man is like, for a fraction of a second, and catches a glimpse of his own face on a reflective surface, envisioning instead verstael besithia -- the worst of intentions, a deluded sense of grandeur, the blood of hundreds on his hands.]
[prompto waits in his own anxious thoughts and momentary fretting--hands tightening over fingers and curling in and out--left alone, but the sight of an approaching bernard bumping against his shoes brings a smile to his face. he sinks down to a squat, presses a palm against the surface of the roomba.]
Hey there, Bernie. My shoes are dirty, huh?
[he wonder if it understands his words, but since there's no form of outward communication, prompto can't tell.]
[instead, he sits himself down on the couch and lifts his feet, laces dangling downwards from his sloppy tying, allowing bernard to vaccuum where he was standing a second before.]
no subject
[they talked about carl before, but prompto knows that carl isn't markus's "maker" but a father figure. he wonders what the man is like, for a fraction of a second, and catches a glimpse of his own face on a reflective surface, envisioning instead verstael besithia -- the worst of intentions, a deluded sense of grandeur, the blood of hundreds on his hands.]
[prompto waits in his own anxious thoughts and momentary fretting--hands tightening over fingers and curling in and out--left alone, but the sight of an approaching bernard bumping against his shoes brings a smile to his face. he sinks down to a squat, presses a palm against the surface of the roomba.]
Hey there, Bernie. My shoes are dirty, huh?
[he wonder if it understands his words, but since there's no form of outward communication, prompto can't tell.]
[instead, he sits himself down on the couch and lifts his feet, laces dangling downwards from his sloppy tying, allowing bernard to vaccuum where he was standing a second before.]