[Surprisingly, considering how harrowing the last several days had been, their journey from Hammerhead to Lestallum was astonishingly free of further incident. The following day, Ignis was in better state to finish off the hunt, and they somehow managed to locate Ignis' other dagger in the process. Once they'd handed in the hunt, the extra funds were able to cover a fresh tank of gas and give them an extra stockpile for supplies in Lestallum, as well as a nice hotel stay. Plus they scored some fresh anak meat, which made for a lovely lunch at camp after the fact.
(Mid-meal Noctis had suddenly recalled a dream where he'd turned into an anak, back when he was a child, so that was a fun surprise too. He used to love anak, though he can't remember that, yet.)
On one of the dusty, less-traveled roads along the way, he'd attempted to drive the Regalia, but the experience had been brief and kind of mediocre, nearly steering them into a dualhorn herd somehow. Ignis had done the bulk of driving after that, and while Noctis was apologetic, he couldn't deny that he'd felt relieved. Ignis looked super out of place in the passenger seat, and even if he had remembered how to drive, Noctis couldn't help feeling some anxiety about his... less-human side being the one Ignis had in his peripheral, even with the jacket and his hair to hide most of it. The sooner they reached the city and he could cover up, the better he'd feel about everything.
They were still careful, of course. They didn't know how many people were following them, and how far they'd go for vengeance. But the more distance they placed between themselves and Insomnia, the more relaxing it all felt. There was an undeniable nostalgia to the journey, the equivalent of meeting with an old friend after a long absence- which, in a sense, is exactly what this is. Memories come in flickers and flashes, idle comments as the scenery flies by and remnants of the last or first time they'd passed through here together rise to the forefront of Noct's mind. Things like, "didn't we watch that one Imperial guy blow up for the third time in there?" as they drove by the abandoned remains of Formouth, or "I think Prompto almost fed me to one of those things," as they watched a pair of catoblepas in Alstor Slough, or "can we pull over for a sec? My head hurts," as they approached the Disc of Cauthess. None of them significant moments, but tiny hints that offered some encouragement that they were on the right path. By the time they crossed the bridge towards Lestallum, Noctis was in good spirits, sitting up and leaning over the edge of the car to stare at the vast stretch of Taelpar below ("do you think Gilgamesh is still down there?"). The tunnel leading into the city proper is a warm, encouraging sight, and although Noctis is tempted to shrink down into his seat at the sight of so many people milling about after such a long stretch of isolation, he resists the urge in favour of taking in the sights. It won't be long now before he can walk around without feeling so self-conscious.
Their shared dream gives him the memories of Lestallum enough to navigate parts of the city, carrying them to the marketplace and to a general supplies store, where he's able to procure a sturdy pair of combat-ready gloves and coloured contacts as well as any supplies needed for their maintenance. The whole set-up looks alien to him, but he's committed to it, and they come with instructions, so... it can't be that hard, right?
Evidently it can, he finds out later that night, once they've checked into the Leville and he's on minute twenty-three of trying to get a single contact into the glowing Astral eye he's been so desperate to cover since they left the garage. He told himself he'd get it in before dinner, but cursing, squinting, and glaring at his reflection in the mirror has gotten him no closer. The pale blue contact stares back at him on the tip of his finger, coated in contact solution and ready to claim victory of round 10. Noctis is not impressed.]
I wish I'd asked Prompto for tips on how to put contacts in. [A pause, and then,] Hey, Iggy? Prompto wore contacts. I remember that too, now.
[Another little memory, which is nice, but it doesn't help with the current problem. Maybe he should just try again in the morning...]
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(Mid-meal Noctis had suddenly recalled a dream where he'd turned into an anak, back when he was a child, so that was a fun surprise too. He used to love anak, though he can't remember that, yet.)
On one of the dusty, less-traveled roads along the way, he'd attempted to drive the Regalia, but the experience had been brief and kind of mediocre, nearly steering them into a dualhorn herd somehow. Ignis had done the bulk of driving after that, and while Noctis was apologetic, he couldn't deny that he'd felt relieved. Ignis looked super out of place in the passenger seat, and even if he had remembered how to drive, Noctis couldn't help feeling some anxiety about his... less-human side being the one Ignis had in his peripheral, even with the jacket and his hair to hide most of it. The sooner they reached the city and he could cover up, the better he'd feel about everything.
They were still careful, of course. They didn't know how many people were following them, and how far they'd go for vengeance. But the more distance they placed between themselves and Insomnia, the more relaxing it all felt. There was an undeniable nostalgia to the journey, the equivalent of meeting with an old friend after a long absence- which, in a sense, is exactly what this is. Memories come in flickers and flashes, idle comments as the scenery flies by and remnants of the last or first time they'd passed through here together rise to the forefront of Noct's mind. Things like, "didn't we watch that one Imperial guy blow up for the third time in there?" as they drove by the abandoned remains of Formouth, or "I think Prompto almost fed me to one of those things," as they watched a pair of catoblepas in Alstor Slough, or "can we pull over for a sec? My head hurts," as they approached the Disc of Cauthess. None of them significant moments, but tiny hints that offered some encouragement that they were on the right path. By the time they crossed the bridge towards Lestallum, Noctis was in good spirits, sitting up and leaning over the edge of the car to stare at the vast stretch of Taelpar below ("do you think Gilgamesh is still down there?"). The tunnel leading into the city proper is a warm, encouraging sight, and although Noctis is tempted to shrink down into his seat at the sight of so many people milling about after such a long stretch of isolation, he resists the urge in favour of taking in the sights. It won't be long now before he can walk around without feeling so self-conscious.
Their shared dream gives him the memories of Lestallum enough to navigate parts of the city, carrying them to the marketplace and to a general supplies store, where he's able to procure a sturdy pair of combat-ready gloves and coloured contacts as well as any supplies needed for their maintenance. The whole set-up looks alien to him, but he's committed to it, and they come with instructions, so... it can't be that hard, right?
Evidently it can, he finds out later that night, once they've checked into the Leville and he's on minute twenty-three of trying to get a single contact into the glowing Astral eye he's been so desperate to cover since they left the garage. He told himself he'd get it in before dinner, but cursing, squinting, and glaring at his reflection in the mirror has gotten him no closer. The pale blue contact stares back at him on the tip of his finger, coated in contact solution and ready to claim victory of round 10. Noctis is not impressed.]
I wish I'd asked Prompto for tips on how to put contacts in. [A pause, and then,] Hey, Iggy? Prompto wore contacts. I remember that too, now.
[Another little memory, which is nice, but it doesn't help with the current problem. Maybe he should just try again in the morning...]