[ In the wake of reuniting with Noctis, there haven't been any apparent downsides to readily assenting to join the crown prince of Lucis and his company of retainers. They're all more than amiable enough to her on the outset, offering her the dead-center seat in the Regalia, sightseeing places they've toured several times already, if just to afford her the glimpse into their homely trip and the great distance they'd traversed to meet her. Benevolence in its totality, so overwhelming that Luna finds herself stricken with a loss for words from time to time.
Sparing no convenience, Noctis converses with her often enough — the very first day she'd settled on the road with them, he'd made a concerted effort not to nap, taking the wheel (apparently a rare occurrence, according to Ignis) and going on a mostly humble tangent about their various hunting travails (one of which included, bizarrely, a humungous turtle posing as a mountain). He's treated her with kindness, wide enough to span the twelve years they spent absent from each other. He's much the same as she remembered in many respects — fumbling but earnest, taking great pains to keep up an amicable air around her in the light of the rowdiness of butting heads with Gladio, challenging Prompto at another round of King's Knight, snapping up groceries at Ignis's behest.
And their fondness for each other is apparent enough with respect to their fights, shielding each other, lobbing curatives to each other, timing preemptive strikes with little more than a call-out and a decisive blow, Noctis warping with the magic of someone utterly free and unconstrained, something to behold. Luna's spoken at length to Ignis and Gladio, who have regaled her with their own colorful anecdotes detailing the minutiae of their lives as Noctis's respective adviser and bodyguard, and it's not all that difficult to ascertain why King Regis so emphatically approved of the two escorting the trip. They treat Noctis as they would their own flesh and blood — afford him the breadth of their lives that comes intrinsic with their Highness's birthright without batting an eye.
It's only Prompto who's remained conspicuously absent from these talks, although he's affable enough upon wishing her well her every morning and evening. A polite distance, but not detached: respectable, even when tossing down his hand of losing cards after a game of Texas hold'em gone terribly awry. She doesn't push the tentative distance he maintains even on occasions like these, when the other members of the party have gone out on an impromptu supply run. Having a friendly discourse with the locals and tourists alike that tend to flock around the hotel has since become a harmless pastime of her own. Beyond being the Oracle, it's pleasant enough to acquaint herself with people from all walks of life, uncurbed by ever-present threats to their lives or her own.
Upon a rather innocuous text from Prompto, however, she's amicable to bid her farewell and head up the staircase and through the hallways, stowing off toward the room they've reserved. Luna knocks once, a quick rap of her knuckles on the door, and then patently makes her entrance, complacent in her greeting. ]
no subject
Sparing no convenience, Noctis converses with her often enough — the very first day she'd settled on the road with them, he'd made a concerted effort not to nap, taking the wheel (apparently a rare occurrence, according to Ignis) and going on a mostly humble tangent about their various hunting travails (one of which included, bizarrely, a humungous turtle posing as a mountain). He's treated her with kindness, wide enough to span the twelve years they spent absent from each other. He's much the same as she remembered in many respects — fumbling but earnest, taking great pains to keep up an amicable air around her in the light of the rowdiness of butting heads with Gladio, challenging Prompto at another round of King's Knight, snapping up groceries at Ignis's behest.
And their fondness for each other is apparent enough with respect to their fights, shielding each other, lobbing curatives to each other, timing preemptive strikes with little more than a call-out and a decisive blow, Noctis warping with the magic of someone utterly free and unconstrained, something to behold. Luna's spoken at length to Ignis and Gladio, who have regaled her with their own colorful anecdotes detailing the minutiae of their lives as Noctis's respective adviser and bodyguard, and it's not all that difficult to ascertain why King Regis so emphatically approved of the two escorting the trip. They treat Noctis as they would their own flesh and blood — afford him the breadth of their lives that comes intrinsic with their Highness's birthright without batting an eye.
It's only Prompto who's remained conspicuously absent from these talks, although he's affable enough upon wishing her well her every morning and evening. A polite distance, but not detached: respectable, even when tossing down his hand of losing cards after a game of Texas hold'em gone terribly awry. She doesn't push the tentative distance he maintains even on occasions like these, when the other members of the party have gone out on an impromptu supply run. Having a friendly discourse with the locals and tourists alike that tend to flock around the hotel has since become a harmless pastime of her own. Beyond being the Oracle, it's pleasant enough to acquaint herself with people from all walks of life, uncurbed by ever-present threats to their lives or her own.
Upon a rather innocuous text from Prompto, however, she's amicable to bid her farewell and head up the staircase and through the hallways, stowing off toward the room they've reserved. Luna knocks once, a quick rap of her knuckles on the door, and then patently makes her entrance, complacent in her greeting. ]
Prompto? You wished to speak with me?