francel de haillenarte (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
haillenarte) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
snowblindrpg2016-08-29 09:28 pm
haillenarte) wrote in snowblindrpg2016-08-29 09:28 pm
[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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Th — no! That is not what I — I meant things like — honor and chivalry and —
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Sweaty bear chests glistening in the tablet light, the grunts of exertion that you can imagine as something else when you close your eyes. The heat. The boners.
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[once upon a time this was going to be a simple and short conversation so that francel could continue pretending that he didn't know house very well. now he's standing next to house with his face in his hands.]
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[he'd best not finish that sentence. he already knows he's going to wind up sounding entirely too interested. he pinches the bridge of his nose.]
What manner of chirurgeon do you think you are?!
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[You basically walked into that one, Francel.]
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I am in the presence of sin and only the Fury can deliver me from hell...
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Well, while the 'fury's doing that, sit down and let me look at your ankle. Did you even bother to splint it?
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[with a sigh, francel hobbles back to house and eases himself to the ground next to the good doctor.]
Ordinarily, a conjurer would treat me for an injury like this. A practitioner of healing magic, in your parlance. Not everyone has access to conjurers in Ishgard, of course, but — I did, so I never had reason to learn how to fix a broken bone on my own. And Haurchefant was never one to mend his own wounds, so...
[he unbuttons his shoes and part of his pant leg, enough so that house can get a look at the swollen ankle and the splint applied to it.]
...Ser Estinien rendered me some assistance.
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[House takes out his pen flashlight and actually shifts around so that he can take Francel's foot into his lap. His touch is delicate, but practiced.]
Esteban's the only one of you people who knows how to do something competently, apparently. Stop walking around and sit down, keep it elevated, and stay off of it as much as you can.
[House hesitates before setting Francel's foot aside and pulling his cane out of one of the loops in his pack. He puts it in Francel's lap.]
This is my cane. You lose it, you owe me a new one. Use that until the swelling's gone down if you can't get one of the boys or Blow Fish to ferry you around like a princess in their arms.
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then house unceremoniously drops his cane in francel's lap and francel stares at it, bewildered.]
I — wait. Are you not in need of this?
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Why the hell would I be lending it to you if I needed it, kid? Don't ask stupid questions. And yes, there is such a thing as stupid questions.
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Well, why would you carry a cane if you have no need of it?
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And stop playing with it. It's a cane, not a magic rod.
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[that said, he does leave it in his lap after house's admonishment.]
The only item I've discarded thus far was a wilted bouquet of lilies. I don't suppose you're going to criticize me for that, too?
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[He's totally going to criticize, Francel.]
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An uncompromising, stubborn old cart chocobo... [he says, in a narrative tone of voice, but then he smiles.]
Thank you, Doctor House. I'll return it to you in good time.
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[He just waves a hand vaguely at the thanks.]