(friend would you be willing to do something in the cr continuity that a certain y'shtola and i have...
namely the scenario is that francel was pursued by heretics from coerthas into mor dhona, and he winds up taking shelter at the rising stones because he knows y'shtola from a previous incident... so maybe he can run into urianger there?!
for a while now we have been trying to get y'shtola to find out about and make fun of francel's crush on urianger because really, francel??? urianger??? but this keeps not happening because they keep talking about current events instead, and i just really want to play out Comedic Suffering
( 5,239,324 years later... yes, i'd definitely be willing! poor, poor francel... perhaps if he's lucky... he can even see urianger without the stupid goggles...! ]
[several bells after y'shtola has finished her mending of his minor scrapes, but the paralysis has yet to shake loose of his numb limbs, francel at last feels hale enough to go for a short walk around the rising stones. the heretics got the better of him. his legs still feel shaky, and perhaps some small part of that is because he has not eaten since the morning, but his intellectual hunger must be sated first of all. since y'shtola has stepped out for what must be Important Scion Shit To Do, the young lordling must keep himself occupied until she returns — and he would know what books the scions of the seventh dawn keep in their headquarters.
since i assume there is some sort of library in the rising stones somewhere, francel locates the library soon enough. the first tome to catch his eye is an anthology of folk tales from across eorzea, sitting pretty upon its perch. curious, the young lord reaches for it.
few shelves in the realm can thwart a reasonably tall elezen man on his tiptoes, but magicks yet course through his limbs, and he winces as he finds himself halted in place, and feels sparks jolt through his bones. he shakes his wrist in annoyance.]
Fury, please...
[that's as much as he manages before he finds himself halted once more, and starts muttering what amounts to ishgardian swear words under his breath.]
[The Warrior of Light is known for her skill with a sword and magic, her willingness to help, and her tendency to turn up basically anywhere and everywhere. What she's not known for is her patience. Which is to say, when Urianger is trying to be the exposition man, she's going to interrupt.]
[ Urianger is quite affronted by that, and he frowns in consternation, brow furrowing (not that it's easy to tell with the hood and the goggles and all). ]
If my lady has difficulty comprehending my locution, I would advise inquiries for clarification rather than discourteous accusations.
Gods, the Waking Sands is always so... terribly quiet, now. Empty.
"I don't know how you can stand staying here," Felih says quietly.
He settles down and sits on one of the high stacks of crates still amid the library in the Waking Sands, quiet for a moment as he watches Urianger study, but then he sighs, tail twitching before it curls around his hip.
"Anyways... Got some time?" he asks after a moment, sounding unusually hesitant and uneasy. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you, in light of things."
Urianger is bent over some thick tome and has a scroll beside upon which he scrawls notes, but at the soft observation he pauses a moment and almost responds. But in truth, he knows not what to say - how to encompass the importance of this place? The meaning of it? The memories both fair and foul seeped into its cool basement stones? The numerous sidequests that start here? 'Tis not something easy to articulate, and just when he is resolving to attempt, Felih moves on. Just as well, really.
He resumes his writing, finishing off the line before he turns to tilt his head curiously Felih's way. Humming, he stoppers his inkwell and sets the quill aside; nothing he is working on today is particularly pressing. "Pray, share that which weighs upon your mind."
Felih hums a little, not quite able to meet his gaze, but he murmurs, "You... are very well learned, you've studied all sorts of tomes and histories, enough that you are oft able to provide us prophecies to help guide us. I never did ask- some I know you said you've simply found written in tomes, but others seem more... ambiguous."
"Do you- nn... Do you think it's truly possible, for a person to see glimpses of the future? Do you think, that once seen, such events can be changed? Or merely seen through?"
He stares down at his hands quietly, where an old engagement ring still rests on a finger. A wedding day he never got to see.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
valoirs
urianger augurelt | scion of the seventh dawn and tl;dr extraordinaire | fully up to date
no subject
But this isn't normal, as a certain Roegadyn strolls in, her arms crossed - one seemingly long perished. ]
What's this about you being able to craft things, huh?
no subject
namely the scenario is that francel was pursued by heretics from coerthas into mor dhona, and he winds up taking shelter at the rising stones because he knows y'shtola from a previous incident... so maybe he can run into urianger there?!
for a while now we have been trying to get y'shtola to find out about and make fun of francel's crush on urianger because really, francel??? urianger??? but this keeps not happening because they keep talking about current events instead, and i just really want to play out Comedic Suffering
alternatively we can work something else out!!)
no subject
finally remembers this
since i assume there is some sort of library in the rising stones somewhere,francel locates the library soon enough. the first tome to catch his eye is an anthology of folk tales from across eorzea, sitting pretty upon its perch. curious, the young lord reaches for it.few shelves in the realm can thwart a reasonably tall elezen man on his tiptoes, but magicks yet course through his limbs, and he winces as he finds himself halted in place, and feels sparks jolt through his bones. he shakes his wrist in annoyance.]
Fury, please...
[that's as much as he manages before he finds himself halted once more, and starts muttering what amounts to ishgardian swear words under his breath.]
no subject
Are you making words up as you speak?
no subject
If my lady has difficulty comprehending my locution, I would advise inquiries for clarification rather than discourteous accusations.
[ tl;dr r u d e, tbh ]
no subject
[SHE'S A RUDE JERK.]
There is a point somewhere buried in the endless padding, is there not? There is somewhere I must go, and a foe I must slay.
no subject
"I don't know how you can stand staying here," Felih says quietly.
He settles down and sits on one of the high stacks of crates still amid the library in the Waking Sands, quiet for a moment as he watches Urianger study, but then he sighs, tail twitching before it curls around his hip.
"Anyways... Got some time?" he asks after a moment, sounding unusually hesitant and uneasy. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you, in light of things."
no subject
The numerous sidequests that start here?'Tis not something easy to articulate, and just when he is resolving to attempt, Felih moves on. Just as well, really.He resumes his writing, finishing off the line before he turns to tilt his head curiously Felih's way. Humming, he stoppers his inkwell and sets the quill aside; nothing he is working on today is particularly pressing. "Pray, share that which weighs upon your mind."
no subject
"Do you- nn... Do you think it's truly possible, for a person to see glimpses of the future? Do you think, that once seen, such events can be changed? Or merely seen through?"
He stares down at his hands quietly, where an old engagement ring still rests on a finger. A wedding day he never got to see.