Following her nose, it wasn't long before she came across his - or he her, as the case may have been. She gave pause at the nod of acknowledgment, weighed her options swiftly - his armor reminded her faintly of the Judges: all curving and planes, though hardly so ornate or so heavy. She could go forward, make her way down to the collection of buildings there at the edge of the field she'd woken in or...
Fran detoured, gracefully rerouting to meet him. Here or there, questions would have to be asked. She drew up few paces from him, settling her weight forward on her toes as if she might bound away (though really, she just didn't want the heels of her shoes to sink into the dirt). "Hello." There was a certain frank flatness about the greeting. "I've some foolish questions, if you've the time."
Rare enough to find one so utterly without guile, much less one in armor. Strange lands indeed. Or perhaps she was over simplifying - she had been known to do as much, but it was difficult to be anything but straightforward with so few points of reference: no familiar land or faces. Even the air here felt different, strangely hollow.
She nodded in thanks, however likely she was to very soon be changing his opinion on the meaning of foolishness. Surely, only someone very unfortunate or very lost had no notion of where they were. "I thank you, but am afraid that I've become something of a hopeless case. Tell me, how far from the Galtean Peninsula have I come?"
Sitting after news like that was definitely far preferable. Fran measured him with a long look and then nodded, a mute acceptance of the invitation to join him at the little cafe. She had no reason beyond the mere extravagance of his claim to doubt him yet, and seeing as she honestly had no clue as to how she'd arrived in this strange place... well, she was in no place to turn down information, however unlikely it seemed.
The collection of tables and spindle legged chairs reminded her forcibly of the expensive salons tucked into quiet corners of Archades where young girls with their hair piled on top of their heads to make them look taller drank their imported teas and young men mediated on women and chops. Her legs were too long to fit comfortably under the edge of the cafe table when she sat, but she was clearly used to it and tucked her feet neatly to the side.
"So then the answer is quite far indeed," she mused, long fingernails clacking against the table top.
So she might yet be simply sleeping, playing part in some ornate lucid dream - though Fran hardly knew how she could ever be capable of creating a world so complete as all this. But it might yet be possible; the mind was a strange altogether different kind of magic. Infinite possibilities might indeed be infinitely possible. It could very well be that the knight across from her was some figment of her overactive imagination. A sister she had once known had long been of the opinion that Fran was too broad minded for her own good (though Fran couldn't imagine that this was what Jote had been concerned about
( ... )
There, a faint quirk at the corners of her mouth and a certain softening of the viera's eyes: probably as close to a smile as he was likely to get out of her at the moment. That much - adventuring and exploring - was something she knew well, and fondly. Perhaps the shape of his armor wasn't the only similarity the warrior had with her own world. "Ah, that at least is something I do know," she said.
Those long fingernails of hers worked efficiently to shed the orange's peel. She stacked the remnants to the side, sipping some water from the glass to make room before she unceremoniously dropped the orange in with the water. "May I?" She took the spoon that had come with the tea and used it to smash the orange apart in the glass, grinding it out until the water was a pale sweet yellow with a thick layer of mutilated fruit at the bottom. Fran set the spoon aside.
Fran leaned across the small table to get a good look at the gadget in hand, examining the map displayed on the screen. The sort of technology wasn't wholly unfamiliar to her - indeed, the Strahl had fairly reliable navigation system, though nothing so complex or detailed as the one in the little machine the warrior held. For the most part, she had learned to rely if not on her own instincts than on the maps drawn up by the moogles and the merchants that roamed from one port of call to the next.
"Have I?" She straightened slightly, giving herself a swift examination. She made a soft noise of surprise to find a similar looking machine hooked onto her armor near her hip. She struggled for a moment to unclip it, her long nails less than helpful, and then flipped it open. It seemed to already be on, the screen bright if blank.
Fran scrolled through the various menus that he pointed out to her, making a note to herself to spend some time getting used to the Dreamberry in her own time. By the sound of it, she'd be using it quite often during her stay in Somarium. She took a few idle sips of her orange water, but seemed to have largely forgotten about it in the face of the new technology. It seemed simple enough, but turning it over in her hands she could see the seams in the plastic and the little miniscule screws holding the whole thing together. The urge to crack it open and go through the wiring itched at her fingertips. Often, it seemed the best way to understand a place was by its machines.
"What is this other menu?" she asked, turning the screen to him. "Dream broadcasts?"
Fran stiffened faintly, regarding the machine in her hands with a new sense of respect - and, admittedly, a strong hint of suspicion. Something that could access the dreams of its users and broadcast them across a live feed to anyone else? That sounded like it had the potential to be the worst sort of magic. She knew the art of dream reading was one highly valued by some, particularly in the dark corners and seedy alleys of Balfonheim Port where card and palm reading was well practiced. She suspected dreams could be very revealing - the thought of it, seeing into people's minds, was both interesting and wholly off putting. She imagined there were quite a few people in Somarium who were less than happy with the fact that their dreams and personal moments might be broadcast for anyone to peek in on
( ... )
(The comment has been removed)
Fran detoured, gracefully rerouting to meet him. Here or there, questions would have to be asked. She drew up few paces from him, settling her weight forward on her toes as if she might bound away (though really, she just didn't want the heels of her shoes to sink into the dirt). "Hello." There was a certain frank flatness about the greeting. "I've some foolish questions, if you've the time."
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
She nodded in thanks, however likely she was to very soon be changing his opinion on the meaning of foolishness. Surely, only someone very unfortunate or very lost had no notion of where they were. "I thank you, but am afraid that I've become something of a hopeless case. Tell me, how far from the Galtean Peninsula have I come?"
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
The collection of tables and spindle legged chairs reminded her forcibly of the expensive salons tucked into quiet corners of Archades where young girls with their hair piled on top of their heads to make them look taller drank their imported teas and young men mediated on women and chops. Her legs were too long to fit comfortably under the edge of the cafe table when she sat, but she was clearly used to it and tucked her feet neatly to the side.
"So then the answer is quite far indeed," she mused, long fingernails clacking against the table top.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Those long fingernails of hers worked efficiently to shed the orange's peel. She stacked the remnants to the side, sipping some water from the glass to make room before she unceremoniously dropped the orange in with the water. "May I?" She took the spoon that had come with the tea and used it to smash the orange apart in the glass, grinding it out until the water was a pale sweet yellow with a thick layer of mutilated fruit at the bottom. Fran set the spoon aside.
"Is this world quite large then?"
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
"Have I?" She straightened slightly, giving herself a swift examination. She made a soft noise of surprise to find a similar looking machine hooked onto her armor near her hip. She struggled for a moment to unclip it, her long nails less than helpful, and then flipped it open. It seemed to already be on, the screen bright if blank.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
"What is this other menu?" she asked, turning the screen to him. "Dream broadcasts?"
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
Leave a comment