francel de haillenarte (
haillenarte) wrote in
snowblindrpg2016-08-29 09:28 pm
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[log] same old love [open]
Characters: Aymeric de Borel, Estinien Wyrmblood, Francel de Haillenarte, Haurchefant Greystone, Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, and any others in the area!
Location Building 124, Building 189
Date: Day 150, Day 151
Summary: Somehow about twenty percent of Norfinbury's population manages to stay in the same buildings at the same time despite an utter lack of coordination. Also, hungry elves are fed.
Warnings: House being House; Aymeric doing questionable things.
124: This house, covered in snow, is dark and cold, but better than outside. The snow presses in on the windows and makes the roof creak and groan whenever it shifts, but it seems to be holding up alright. It's a standard, single-story house with a living room, single bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and dining room. The bedframe has been taken apart, and its pieces arranged neatly from largest to smallest on the floor. The house is sparsely furnished, unfortunately with mostly metal. There's a back door leading off into darkness, but it isn't locked.
189: A single bedroom apartment. It's seen better days, but the door locks up at night. The window is sealed shut, with snow packed in on he other side allowing no light in. It's pitch black at night, but there is a couch to sleep on, even if the bed only has its frame. The bathroom has a toilet and shower--the shower doesn't work, but the toilet does.
Location Building 124, Building 189
Date: Day 150, Day 151
Summary: Somehow about twenty percent of Norfinbury's population manages to stay in the same buildings at the same time despite an utter lack of coordination. Also, hungry elves are fed.
Warnings: House being House; Aymeric doing questionable things.
124: This house, covered in snow, is dark and cold, but better than outside. The snow presses in on the windows and makes the roof creak and groan whenever it shifts, but it seems to be holding up alright. It's a standard, single-story house with a living room, single bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and dining room. The bedframe has been taken apart, and its pieces arranged neatly from largest to smallest on the floor. The house is sparsely furnished, unfortunately with mostly metal. There's a back door leading off into darkness, but it isn't locked.
189: A single bedroom apartment. It's seen better days, but the door locks up at night. The window is sealed shut, with snow packed in on he other side allowing no light in. It's pitch black at night, but there is a couch to sleep on, even if the bed only has its frame. The bathroom has a toilet and shower--the shower doesn't work, but the toilet does.
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[Haurchefant stands by the front door. With the snow obscuring his view he sees no reason to stare out the windows but he refuses to wander too far from the entrance to the structure.]
[B: After Lockdown]
[Once the structure has been safely closed up Haurchefant removes what is left of his armor and starts doing squats in the corner. He smiles, the warmth genuine but the smile never quite makes it to his eyes.
He is happy to see people from home but Hydaelyn is a place from another lifetime. Looking into the faces of people from a world where he's dead feels surreal. He wants to embrace them all and apologize for leaving them. That is what a true friend would do... But he knows in his heart that he would die to save a life again without a second thought. How can he apologize when he doesn't really feel any remorse? Just having to ask himself these questions forms a knot of guilt in his stomach.]
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I would tell you that you look an awful fool right now — [a soft groan escapes him as he lowers himself to the floor beside haurchefant] — but I know that would not deter you in the least.
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Foul weather has not deterred me in the past and it shan't do so now.
[Nor will starvation. Speaking of which....]
Have you eaten?
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[francel turns his head in haurchefant's direction.]
And you, dear friend?
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[He grunts softly as he goes back to his squats. Keeping fit means keeping fed. A healthy body likes healthy food, after all.
It's hard to pull off here but he's been trying his best.]
I dearly wish I could enjoy a table like the one we set out at the Feast of Saint Daniffen.
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[francel buries his head in his hands and sighs piteously, but it's all a bit overdramatic and he's only playing his reaction up for laughs.]
You mean the year before last, do you not? When the harvest was rich and our coffers well-funded? Medguistl prepared that fantastic roast dodo, and piles of pastry fish, and — the gratin, gods, sometimes I still dream of that gratin — and mushroom sauté, and bottles of spiced warmwine, and pudding that fair melted in the mouth...
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[He sighs dreamily.]
I could eat my weight in them. Mayhap it runs in my family? Even my father cannot refrain from indulging.
[His father....He winces slightly, thinking about him. He'd vowed to return to him, that his shield would not break.]
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...Count Edmont was hale and hearty last I saw him, Haurchefant. Artoirel succeeded him as head of House Fortemps. He is... They're alright. They both are.
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Pray forgive me if this is an odd question but... What of Emmanellain? Did you see him aught?
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I did see him once or twice. He even participated in Ishgard's grand melee against the Eorzean Alliance. There was some talk of... how he might replace you as the leader of the garrison at Camp Dragonhead. And I...
[francel is quiet for a long time before he admits:]
I refused to attend the talks.
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[He offers a smile but only with his lips.]
He was here, too, for a time...
Was that before or after you saw him, I have to wonder....?
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francel sighs and leans more heavily against the wall. he understands what haurchefant is asking, but if they're going to discuss this then he has to be completely honest.]
I know Emmanellain was here. I also know that he died a month prior. I have been here a mere fortnight, Haurchefant, but he was alive when I left Ishgard.
[he shakes his head.]
Time... Time seems irrelevant in Norfinbury. This is simply... some other world. Some other time. Some other place. And in some other world and time and place, Emmanellain is still alive. Perhaps you are, too. Perhaps, in this other world, we can all sit together, and call each other brothers.
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[Would they have to die to go such a time? Is the world Francel is describing the Halls of Halone? Or is there really a multitude of Hydaelyns adrift in the seas of time?
It's a question for more scholarly minds than his own.]
We are together here. I am here.
[The smile becomes more genuine.]
Mayhap we can make the best of what time this place affords us. Though it shall seek to dampen our spirits together we can stand strong as men of Ishgard.
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[francel hesitates.]
...I trust you, Haurchefant, more than any other here. You know this, do you not?
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And I place more trust in you than in anyone else, be they of other worlds or of our own.
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[he closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall.]
That's very, very good...
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[He resumes his squats.]
With so many minds devoting themselves to our continued survival how can it be otherwise?
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Sometimes things don't go as planned. No matter how hard you tried and how many minds you set to the task...
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Joacin....
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You need not let me keep you from your training.
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Normally such staunch exercise ethic would be something to be praised, but uh... well. Some strange elf grinning at everyone while going full ham at his leg day sets is somewhat awkward, all things considered. Even if said elf seems like a fairly upstanding guy at first glance.
Speaking of glances, just mentally keeping count while Haurchefant does his thing. ]
'Tis strange to want to exercise so late in the day. Would reading or gambling at the evening bell not be more common among Ishgardians?
[ Ugh. The place is gonna just reek of sweat in no time. ]
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[He stops and stretches. If it seems like he is showing off it's because he is.]
But exercising in the later bells is often the best option. The doors are sealed so I'd not be able to travel any further even if I wished too... Not without dying anyroad.
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True enough. However, I'm sure I need not lecture you on the dangers of exhausting oneself before the occasion arises; 'twill do us little good to face a squall whilst down a man.
[ Rhetorical squall, anyway. She's more concerned about being able to retreat in good time if/when any creepy crawlies show up. ]
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[Then he blinks as if remembering something and bows.]
Ah, pray forgive my lack of decorum, my lady, I do believe this is the first time we've truly met.
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[ She meets the bow with a polite nod of her own. ]
Aye, 'tis. Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, as doubtless you know already. Well met.