[ Naturally, Prompto is in the middle of inhaling a bite of delicious void cheeseburge when Dave dishes out that bit of trivia, and so he has no hope of not choking. He beats his fist against his chest as he coughs, tears rising to his eyes, contemplates death, or, at the very least, how hard Alisaie would laugh if he did ask her out.
After...several...long moments of this, he straightens in some vain attempt to save face. ]
Ah...a-hem. G-gotcha. I'll keep that in mind.
[ So he can eventually chicken out of putting it to use. ]
no subject
After...several...long moments of this, he straightens in some vain attempt to save face. ]
Ah...a-hem. G-gotcha. I'll keep that in mind.
[ So he can eventually chicken out of putting it to use. ]