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).
However, she was politic enough not to question the reality of her present situation. It was or was not, and she doubted ferreting around in the mechanics of the place was likely to disturb much. The dream would be dreamed and when she woke up, it would be over. Like all dreams. It was hardly a point of concern, at least not yet.
But Gods, what she wouldn't do for a taste of that strong Bhujerban Madhu right then. She thought about requesting it, testing the limitations of this dream world, but then decided against it. She had been foolish enough for one day. "Water is fine," she said when the waiter neared. "And whatever fruit with a peel is near to hand. It seems," she said, looking back to the knight. "That you must have been here quite long, so have so many answers so ready for me."
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.
Fran took a long sip of her orange water, eying the Dreamberry thoughtfully. Machines with minds of their own; it sounded like some implausible hybrid of mist and mechanics. "Wonders hardly cease," she mused, tapping the screen with her finger. "Thank you for tolerating my interrogation, --"
She realized with a flush of awkwardness that she'd completely forgotten that seemingly all important exchange of names at the beginning of conversations. It was the sort of thing that was less important in the Wood, but since stepping out into the rest of the world she had learned along with reading maps and the worth of gil, the mechanics of ships and how to not let a desert trader cheat you.
Fran bowed her head, tucking the Dreamberry away. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot introductions. I am Fran."
So it was to be turn and turn about - fair enough; she had the sense to appreciate that sort of debt above another. By the sound of it, it would be easy enough to repay besides. Seems Somarium was full of wayfarers and refugees looking for all manner of answers; Fran doubted it would be too long before she had the opportunity to give a stranger the same education that the warrior had given her.
She paused briefly, head cocked faintly to the side when he admitted the loss of his own name. That, more than anything, was something truly strange. She had known more than one hume (and others besides) who had gone about changing their name for the sake of ease or subterfuge, but never anyone who had lost that which was theirs. The thought was sobering enough. She had known exactly who she was even as a young thing, but could recognize seem need to escape that which was pre-determined - that had been a large reason for her leaving the Wood's shade, though that had been a choice not some unintentional loss as his seemed like to be.
However, she was politic enough not to question the reality of her present situation. It was or was not, and she doubted ferreting around in the mechanics of the place was likely to disturb much. The dream would be dreamed and when she woke up, it would be over. Like all dreams. It was hardly a point of concern, at least not yet.
But Gods, what she wouldn't do for a taste of that strong Bhujerban Madhu right then. She thought about requesting it, testing the limitations of this dream world, but then decided against it. She had been foolish enough for one day. "Water is fine," she said when the waiter neared. "And whatever fruit with a peel is near to hand. It seems," she said, looking back to the knight. "That you must have been here quite long, so have so many answers so ready for me."
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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?"
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(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)
Fran took a long sip of her orange water, eying the Dreamberry thoughtfully. Machines with minds of their own; it sounded like some implausible hybrid of mist and mechanics. "Wonders hardly cease," she mused, tapping the screen with her finger. "Thank you for tolerating my interrogation, --"
She realized with a flush of awkwardness that she'd completely forgotten that seemingly all important exchange of names at the beginning of conversations. It was the sort of thing that was less important in the Wood, but since stepping out into the rest of the world she had learned along with reading maps and the worth of gil, the mechanics of ships and how to not let a desert trader cheat you.
Fran bowed her head, tucking the Dreamberry away. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot introductions. I am Fran."
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
She paused briefly, head cocked faintly to the side when he admitted the loss of his own name. That, more than anything, was something truly strange. She had known more than one hume (and others besides) who had gone about changing their name for the sake of ease or subterfuge, but never anyone who had lost that which was theirs. The thought was sobering enough. She had known exactly who she was even as a young thing, but could recognize seem need to escape that which was pre-determined - that had been a large reason for her leaving the Wood's shade, though that had been a choice not some unintentional loss as his seemed like to be.
"Alexander, then, will do for me also," she said.
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