[reaching his floor, they step out and make their way towards the apartment. it's pretty small and bare, but there's still some things worth boxing.]
I mostly wanna box up the clothes and throw out the disposable things. I think I could put the clothes in the safehouse for others to take.
[he's not about the sentimentality of keeping reminders of the others. that's what he has his pictures for, after all.]
[and so he heads for the bedroom (there are no doors, it's a simple floor map with everything linked together; the only doors in the entryway, bathroom, and closet).]
[ the lack of privacy would give him hives, he decides, carefully setting the boxes down and glancing around the space. ]
That's a good idea.
[ better to not let go anything go to waste. In the back of his mind he thinks he they need a better setup for what to do when someone vanishes. Maybe written wills detailing what to keep, in case they reappear, and what to toss and donate. ]
[it's where the more personal stuff is at, anyway.]
Maybe you can look through the kitchen? Iggy always had like twenty of the same stuff. [he's not a chef, what does he know why you would need different types of knives or pots for?] I'm good with two or three of each, really. I guess I could sell the rest if they look expensive.
[ Have some boxes, chocoboyo. Having a rich baby who grew up with gourmet cooking probably isn't going to be the most conductive to tossing what you don't need or want out, but he'll take the time to go through the things and divide them into 'keep' and 'donate/sell' boxes. ]
[he's shoving things in here as he goes. prompto never had to pack for anything in his life, either, so he's just dividing things based on what was his, noct's, or ignis'.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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damian will turn up in about twenty minutes, loaded wih empty boxes ]
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Hey. We'll take the elevator.
[it's easy enough for him to go with the motions, even if it's somewhat of an awkward shuffle.]
[as the elevator ascends... prompto glances towards the other, his back pressed to the back wall.]
Thanks, by the way.
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This is what friends are for, isn't it?
[ 'helping each other move' is somewhere on the checklist of friendship right
]
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[reaching his floor, they step out and make their way towards the apartment. it's pretty small and bare, but there's still some things worth boxing.]
I mostly wanna box up the clothes and throw out the disposable things. I think I could put the clothes in the safehouse for others to take.
[he's not about the sentimentality of keeping reminders of the others. that's what he has his pictures for, after all.]
[and so he heads for the bedroom (there are no doors, it's a simple floor map with everything linked together; the only doors in the entryway, bathroom, and closet).]
no subject
That's a good idea.
[ better to not let go anything go to waste. In the back of his mind he thinks he they need a better setup for what to do when someone vanishes. Maybe written wills detailing what to keep, in case they reappear, and what to toss and donate. ]
Where do you want to start?
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[it's where the more personal stuff is at, anyway.]
Maybe you can look through the kitchen? Iggy always had like twenty of the same stuff. [he's not a chef, what does he know why you would need different types of knives or pots for?] I'm good with two or three of each, really. I guess I could sell the rest if they look expensive.
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[ Have some boxes, chocoboyo. Having a rich baby who grew up with gourmet cooking probably isn't going to be the most conductive to tossing what you don't need or want out, but he'll take the time to go through the things and divide them into 'keep' and 'donate/sell' boxes. ]
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—you were friends with Noct, right?
[prompto knows the answer]
[he's just trying to have a starter]