final fantasy xv · noctis · gladio · ignis · prompto · party dynamic · road trip · rpg · swordplay · cooking
The Leide sun beats down on the dusty road, heatwaves shimmering above the cracked asphalt. In the distance, a sleek black car sits stubbornly still, four figures straining against its frame. Grunts of effort cut through the dry air—Prompto's voice cracks mid-curse, Noctis drags out a groan, Gladio's laugh is bitter. Ignis adjusts his glasses, sighing. They pause, panting, and their eyes land on you. Noctis wipes his brow, a sheepish look crossing his face. "Uh. Hey..."