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dps parser ([personal profile] parser) wrote in [community profile] dpscheck2019-04-02 06:47 pm

academy of eorzea

academy of eorzea
back to school season!
Welcome to the Academy of Eorzea — AoE for short! Put on your school uniforms and get ready to vie for the attentions of the I4 — the most popular students in school. Or... pilot giant mechas in battle against the Garlean empire for some reason. How are the giant robots related to the high school plot? We just don't know.

In more direct terms: here's an open post based on the most recent April Fool's Day dev blog entry! (If you haven't seen it, it's here.)

Basically, it's a FFXIV high school AU: pick your role (parent? teacher? student?), and play with aggressively cliche shoujo or shounen manga tropes if that's what you want to do. Yeah, we've run a school AU before, but now it's semi-canon, so let's have another!

Toplevel with whatever AU information you want and have fun!
TEMPLATE CODED BY [personal profile] valoirs


valhourdin: (05)

[personal profile] valhourdin 2019-08-27 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Francel isn't the first fellow student Zephirin has accompanied to the nurse's office — second-years themselves at the time, Guerrique once broke a baseball bat, accidentally swinging it down against the ground, and needed splinters extracted from his fingers — and Zephirin himself has been here before, dizzy on that bed. Perhaps, though he sees countless students come and go, Mr. Whitecape remembers enough of them to consider the pair in his office safely left alone until Francel wakes, only pointing out the water cooler in one corner before busying himself behind his desk, rather than watching the two boys closely.

The room, hardly the size to be called an infirmary, is blessedly cool and quiet. Waiting, Zephirin sits in a chair by the wall, between the bed and a window, and sips from a plastic cup filled with water. His eyes rest on Francel, who seems small and delicate as he lies there, silent and still.

When the younger boy's fingers shift upon the mattress beneath him, Zephirin's spine straightens; setting his cup down, exchanging it for another on the shelf beside the chair, he stands from his seat to approach. ]


Mr. Whitecape's office. Let me tell him that you're awake.

[ He doubts that he needs to — the man can hear them — and instead of stepping away, he proffers the cup of water in one hand, holding out his other hand in case Francel has trouble sitting up on his own. ]
haillenarte: (050)

[personal profile] haillenarte 2019-08-28 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[mr. whitecape has, of course, already heard their conversation, and is already pulling back the privacy curtain to check on francel's status.

he asks typical questions: if francel would like zephirin to be dismissed (he does not), if he feels alright (aside from some throbbing, mostly so), if he would like to have his parents called (they won't pick up). the school nurse administers some basic eye exams, a simple hearing test. finally, he pronounces francel in good health — at least for now. "there's still a risk that you might present with concussion symptoms later in the day, or later in the week," mr. whitecape concludes, "but for the moment you seem fine. you were hit pretty hard, no doubt about that, but it looks to me that your cheek absorbed most of the impact, so aside from a nasty bruise there, you should be okay."

the man withdraws, rolling his swivel chair back over to his desk. "why don't you boys cool off here a while longer?" he says, kindly. "it'll give francel another moment to make sure that he feels alright, and i think it's cruel that they still haven't fixed the air conditioning in the gym, besides."

at this, francel nods gratefully, his lips curled at their corners. he sips at the water zephirin gave him.]


Thank you, Mr. Whitecape. [he turns the force of his full smile onto the boy beside him.] And thank you, Zephirin.
valhourdin: (09)

[personal profile] valhourdin 2019-08-29 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The curtain rustles softly, sliding back into place, and Mr. Whitecape disappears from view. Given the go-ahead to stay, Zephirin moves closer again, returning Francel's smile as he seats himself on the edge of the bed.

To think that Francel barely looked up at all, at first when they met. ]


It isn't how I expected us to see each other again, but it's the least I could do. [ His eyes flick to the bruise-to-be on Francel's cheek. ] Guerrique will be relieved to hear that you're alright.

[ So will he — even if it was only a tennis ball to the head, a concussion was (and apparently remains) a real possibility. ]
haillenarte: (094)

[personal profile] haillenarte 2019-08-30 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Who's Guerrique...?

[francel would likely know him by description, being one of zephirin's friends, but as guerrique has never taken books out from the school library, francel has no way of knowing who he is.

he's not quite conscious of it, but as zephirin draws closer, francel turns one of his hands palm-up on the bed, as if to indicate that he would like his hand held. his boyish shyness has not yet left him entirely — it suddenly occurs to him that zephirin looks very handsome indeed in their gym uniform, with just the white shirt clinging to his shoulders, and his face erupts in a vivid blush...

...but he is already lying down in bed, so there's no real way for him to duck away in embarrassment. not unless he wants to bury his face in the thin nurse's office pillow, anyway, which isn't very appealing.]
valhourdin: (15)

[personal profile] valhourdin 2019-09-02 02:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ Turned toward Francel, Zephirin leans on one palm laid upon the mattress, and their fingers brush when Francel moves his hand. It seems as likely a reason as any to explain Francel's sudden blushing — more so than the warm weather, for the moment, or the mention of Guerrique's guilty concern — but Zephirin leaves his hand where it is, outwardly taking no notice of its placement. His fingers flex just slightly, as if debating whether to withdraw or to cover Francel's, before going still.

Briefly, he thinks of Francel in his arms. ]


A friend. Maybe you saw him doing push-ups earlier, and we were partners in class today.

[ With his free hand, Zephirin gestures at Francel's head, rueful. ]

Unfortunately, he hit the ball a little too hard...
haillenarte: (054)

[personal profile] haillenarte 2019-09-03 05:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[francel giggles in a manner so dazed one has to stop to wonder if the concussion is setting in at last, but no — it's only zephirin's proximity making him warm, turning him breathless. his heart flutters in his chest.]

Oh, the white-haired boy? Was that his fault? [another little laugh.] I'm not angry with him. I didn't even see it coming, to be honest.

[francel's humor fades suddenly, however, as something does finally kick in on his part... the pain. his cheek is throbbing. better than than in the cavity of his skull, he supposes, but still...]

Um... do you suppose Mr. Whitecape has an ice pack or anything? My face really hurts...
valhourdin: (04)

[personal profile] valhourdin 2019-09-08 02:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Francel's giddy amusement might be cause for concern, but it's endearing and infectious while it lasts — and then his discomfort rears its head, and Zephirin places aside the retort on his tongue to focus on Francel's reddened cheek. Straightening up, he pushes himself to his feet. ]

I imagine he'll have one on hand — I'll go find out.

[ Within moments of leaving for the other side of the curtain, a hushed exchange later, Zephirin returns, an ice pack wrapped in paper towels at the ready. He makes to hand it over, once seated on the bed again, only to press it gently to Francel's bruise. ]
haillenarte: (061)

[personal profile] haillenarte 2019-09-08 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)
...Heheheheee.

[francel giggles in a way that might, again, rouse concern if he were not otherwise alert and active. he does not make to hold the ice pack with his own hands — instead, he simply leans into zephirin's touch, savoring the pleasant chill of the ice pack through its protective layer of paper towels.

he looks quite pleased with this outcome. if the ice pack weren't between them, he would look like zephirin's pet rabbit, nuzzling his master's hand for more attention.]


It's sort of squishy...
valhourdin: (09)

[personal profile] valhourdin 2019-09-16 09:32 am (UTC)(link)
It's not too cold, is it?

[ Not yet — they have about ten or fifteen minutes before the chill seeping through the paper towels will rapidly grow less pleasant for Francel's cheek and Zephirin's hand alike. Their teachers are bound to expect them back in class soon, besides, but until then, Zephirin holds the ice pack steady between his palm and Francel's face, accommodating the slight movement of the other boy's head.

The angle almost creates the illusion that Francel has pillowed his cheek upon Zephirin's hand, charming in the same way that it was to watch him wait for Zephirin to smooth down his hair yesterday. ]


Tell me when you've had enough of lying here.

[ Perhaps in part because they're still wearing their gym uniforms after sweating through the first half of the lesson. ]
haillenarte: (022)

[personal profile] haillenarte 2019-09-28 05:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Okay...

[the possible clamminess of his gym uniform aside (it's not really wet — he didn't sweat that much, even trying to keep up with mr. foulques's ridiculous directives), francel seems perfectly content to remain as he is, lying on the thin school infirmary cot with zephirin at his side. he looks drowsy, content, like a pet rabbit or helpless hamster rubbed into relaxation, flattened out against its bed.

reason, however, soon gets the better of his placid contentedness. what time is it? is p.e. almost over?]


...I don't feel too bad, so... do you mind walking me back to the locker rooms so I can get my things? I'll probably skip the rest of gym, but after I sit through my last class of the day, I'll just go home.

[unnecessarily, he clarifies:] I just have social studies with Mr. Lexentale after this, so it won't be strenuous or anything...
valhourdin: (05)

[personal profile] valhourdin 2019-10-11 05:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ They shouldn't stay here much longer, Zephirin knows, though Francel has an excuse to miss the second half of gym class today. Rising to his feet, he takes the ice pack with him, lowering it, and extends his other hand to help the younger boy up. ]

I'll let Mr. Slafyrsyn know that you were told to rest. Do you want me to meet you after school?

[ Before he draws the curtain aside, standing poised for Francel to lean on him, he elaborates on his thinking: ]

I'm sure you'll be fine getting home on your own, but your family may have questions that I can answer.
haillenarte: (046)

[personal profile] haillenarte 2019-10-13 03:18 am (UTC)(link)
You don't have to trouble yourself... but I'll admit I'd feel a lot happier going home with someone else. And, um... if you're not busy, you can stay a while? I mean, not for dinner, necessarily! Not unless you wanted to...



[they excuse themselves from mr. whitecape's care and walk back to the locker rooms, where francel changes back into his school uniform, looking as fresh and clean as if he'd never gone to gym class at all. the one thing marring his otherwise clean-cut is the red mark on his cheek that, indeed, looks as if it's slowly starting to bruise.

all the same, francel goes to class as planned, then arranges to meet zephirin at the gates. some of their classmates stare oddly at the red mark on his cheek, which has begun to darken — it makes francel feel somewhat self-conscious about it, and indeed, if he thought that he had any sort of shot with zephirin at all, he might even be concerned that the upperclassman might find it ugly.

but francel doesn't expect zephirin to like him — not more than a friend, anyway — so he doesn't bother trying to cover up the large red bruise on his cheek as he catches sight of zephirin striding out of the school building.]


Oh — Zephirin, I'm here!
valhourdin: (04)

[personal profile] valhourdin 2020-01-02 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Zephirin isn't alone, emerging with Guerrique just behind him, but he turns his head as Francel calls out, and beelines for the other boy. A discreet wave confirms that he saw Francel before he and Guerrique reach Francel's side.

Once the bruise on Francel's cheek becomes impossible to miss, Guerrique's face falls. Again, all his usual boisterous energy seems to drain away; guiltily, shoulders slumping, he peers at Francel too closely.

Zephirin is the first to speak: ]


How are you feeling, Francel?
haillenarte: (013)

[personal profile] haillenarte 2020-01-03 05:40 am (UTC)(link)
[unfortunately for poor, guilty guerrique, francel doesn't seem to pay him any mind — his attentions are focused fully on zephirin's handsome features as he fixes the older boy with obvious adoration.]

I'm all right for now. A little lightheaded, maybe? But that might also be because I didn't eat. It doesn't hurt that much, at least.

[then he... giggles, for no particular reason. how... odd. perhaps he is always like this.. or perhaps the school nurse's assessment that he might have a mild concussion is proving true. but then, if he were concussed, surely he would have more obvious behavioral issues?]