darkinferno | [ic inbox]

[Yeah okay fuck this. He gave Prompto a chance to figure it out on his own and get out but it's clear that he's not going to take it. So Dante swings upright and glowers down at his phone as he responds, all ability to give a shit gone.]

if you think i don't sound like myself then you haven't been paying attention you hang out with someone once and think you're buddies for life? the world doesn't work that way. it's time to wake the fuck up prompto the people around you are gonna take you for what you've got and then drop you like a hot potato once you're not useful to them any more

sure you can take photos but do you think the photographers ever get invited to be a part of things? fuck no you're there to take pictures and make everybody else look good and then you can piss right off and eat off whatever's left when the party's over if you're lucky

nobody gives a shit you know that right

and don't give me some hero speech like it's okay if they treat you like shit because you're still bringing ~joy~ to someone's life we all know that's a fucking lie you tell yourself to pretend it's okay

so leave me the fuck alone

[wait, why is he getting a flood of text? prompto can't focus his eyes on it at first because he's just so confused as to what dante could be so elaborate about]

[until he does scroll up and start reading]

[his blood runs cold]

[he knows that. photography is a service industry. it's not about being friends or making friends; it's about providing others with something to remember an occasion the photographer will never be part of.]

[prompto knows that]

[but, the way dante puts it--it makes him feel very lonely. replaceable. unwanted.]

[were he and dante not friends? what about that speech he had given him, some weeks ago? about looking after him or whatever, as ironic as it is to have someone younger than you do so? it's unfair, prompto thinks. because dante is not letting him have a choice.]

[maybe, though, dante never really considered him a friend at all]

[just someone who was useful to him for whatever small thing, and now that that's done for, he might as well just go. fuck his own values and the creed he follows, right?]

if you don't want to hang out with me that badly you should've just said you're sick or something, instead of shitting all over me for no actual reason
sorry for being concerned
or thinking you meant it when you said we were friends

i guess i'm foolish enough to have believed you wholeheartedly

but no matter what i'll still worry about you
because i'm an idiot who has no self-respect and makes bad life decisions apparently
if something's eating you up and you need a punching bag then go ahead
i'll take it all
it's not like i'm not used to it
just don't think you're getting rid of me scot free
come on
meet me and fight, you think you're tough hiding behind a screen? saying whatever shit you want? without consequence?

do i really have to rub your nose into the pavement for you to get the picture what are you that desperate for people to spend time on you that you don't even care how badly they fuck you up

[Have some more respect for yourself, you asshole! See him for how terrible a person he is and realize you have better people to spend your time on already!]

but fine if you're that desperate then meet me behind the kaneda building in an hour

[And in an hour, Dante's behind the Kaneda building in Apprassage. In spite of the fact that he's gone farther distances in his morning runs, his car is parked on the street nearby, just beyond the mouth of the alleyway he's named. It's already clear to him that the world isn't going to leave him alone the way he wants it to, not between his electronics and his phone and Retrospec having access to him anywhere there's a piece of technology that can load it. Even if he turns off his internet, people can still reach him.

And Dante really doesn't want to be reached right now.

So he's decided: once he's finished beating Prompto's ass into the ground, he's going to go to ground himself. After all, nobody will be able to bother him if he's not around to be bothered, right? It won't matter what he does. He'll be alone. Just like he wants.

Just like he's supposed to be.

When Prompto shows up, the first thing he'll notice is that the characteristically easy air about Dante is gone. Much like over text, there's no humor to him today, and his face is drawn, closed off.]

I didn't think you'd come, Prompto.

[Just go away already and leave him alone.]

Yeah? How easy for you to think that you can just talk shit and I won't do something about it.

[he decided to reach this place by foot. he's in no rush. most of all, though, he's worried. prompto doesn't know what's going on with dante, but nothing about this should be something a person faces on their own.]

[on this day, at this moment, prompto is also a no-humour person. he, too, can be serious when the situation calls for it.]

What's the matter with you?

Nothing's the matter with me. I just realized that I was wasting my time, is all.

[Dante folds his arms, leaning back and shifting his weight onto one foot.]

I'm through with wasting my time on people like you. So quit trying to shove that nose of yours into my business and fuck off, will you?

[prompto walks closer, because there's that dumb guy bravado of trying to prove they're better than the other. foolish.]

Yeah? I think you're trying to act tough. Why? Hell if I know. You can't just run away from your problems by shutting them out and thinking that's gonna fix it all, y'know.

Edited 2017-03-26 15:54 (UTC)

I don't need to act tough. I can deal with my shit on my own.

[That's enough. He's done. He can't deal with Prompto trying to solve this any longer. If he has to keep listening to Prompto trying to call him out or--trying to help him in some weird backwards way? Dante doesn't know--he's going to lose his cool entirely.]

Enough talk. You said you wanted to fight. So fight me.

[His hands curl into fists, coming up in front of him. And if Prompto isn't going to take the first shot, then he sure as hell will.]

[he will stand his ground. he doesn't have much experience in terms of fights, but he's pretty sure he can handle himself.]

You're the one who doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. [...this isn't a breakup] And I say that I don't believe you. If you're so sure of what you're saying, then prove it.

Edited 2017-03-26 17:50 (UTC)

Fine by me!

[Dante's not only got experience in fighting, having gotten into more than one or two scraps himself, but he's also been remembering some of the combat skills his other self had had, which might give him even more of an edge. He crosses the remaining distance between them without even thinking about it, right fist flickering out in a hook that's meant to collide with Prompto's jaw, left fist following up with a punch toward his stomach.

He's refusing to feel bad about this. He'd warned Prompto multiple times to leave him alone. This is just one more step in making sure he does so.]

[he really means it, is the sad conclusion prompto reaches]

[he about manages to dodge the hook to his jaw but doesn't see the punch to his stomach coming. he takes a few steps back, trying to catch his breath, clutching at his tummy.]

Is that--all? Pffsh.

[The act of fighting makes it easier to convince himself that he means it. After all, he wouldn't be hurting Prompto if he didn't really want to drive him away.]

Not quite.

[Dante pursues him, reaching out so that he might be able to grab hold of ether side of his head, bringing him down to knee him in the face. He feels something crunch against his knee, bone or cartilage he doesn't know, and he lets go only to sidestep and drive his elbow toward the other boy's back, hoping to drop him to the ground and end this.

Just stay down.]

[prompto feels it more than he notices it happening, as it all does too fast for him to figure out up from down. he doesn't even register the pain, as a hit to his back has him crumpling to the ground (rather pathetically, really), and that plus the previous punch to his stomach has him gasping for air, again.]

[drops of blood on the pavement come into view after his vision stops being so blurry.]

[he can't feel the pain because everything else is hurting]

[prompto finally gives, buckling onto the ground and turning around, onto his back, finding a very hard time to breathe through his nose (obviously), and his mouth, too.]

Haa-- haa...

[eyes closed, he stays down]

[There's a part of him that wants to tell Prompto to roll back over, to keep his nose angled down so that the blood doesn't all coagulate at the back of his nose and throat (he knows from experience that blood running from your nose down the back of your throat is a terrible sensation). But there's another part of him that knows if he does anything, anything at all that could be construed as helpful or caring, Prompto will take it that way. And then they'll just be back to square one.

And Dante doesn't want to have to do this twice.

So fists clenched by his sides, he takes a step forward to make sure Prompto can see him and the glare on his face, and his voice is sharp when he speaks.]

I told you, Prompto. Leave me alone.

If I ever see you or that face of yours again, I won't let you off so easy. So just do the both of us a favor and get out of my life.

[He turns on his heel, stalking out of the alleyway, refusing to look back at the boy on the ground behind him.

This is for the best. Sure, it might suck now, but in the long run this is the only way it could have ended. Better to have it over with than for both of them to be invested and make it worse later on.

It's better this way.]

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