Since their engagement, Fran has very rarely left House Bunansa. Not that this was a real change in her routine from times prior, but the addition of wedding planning had made no real difference in how she’d spend her days. She had managed to discuss with Penelo what would be necessary for the ceremony, though even now the Viera was still not entirely clear on everything that was needed. To her, most of it felt unnecessary - so long as both Balthier and herself agreed to the marriage, why was such extravagance needed
( ... )
"Present and accounted for, Miss Fran." Kuja smiled wryly, looking at her from the very tips of her ears to the sharpened 'claws' of her shoes. He sighed in relief, crossing his arms and cocking his head.
"My dear, you are stunning beyond measure and by the time I'm finished with you- you'll be a living work of art."
The tiny snapshots in the journals did her no justice, Kuja was convinced. One never saw the true hue of her flawless skin, nor the way her hair was like snow. She was the ultimate priceless treasure Balthier would gain. Somehow, it made Kuja happy to realize that about his friend.
"Now that I've seen you I'm going to have to rework a lot of things." A sigh as he beckoned at Fran to follow him into the dressing area. "I knew you were taller than Balthier so I had flat shoes made for you- however it seems you need heels to stand."
"At least the dress shall be fine." Kuja carefully withdrew a stunning creation from one of the tall wardrobes. "You have to understand I'm not exactly a conventional designer. Stark white
( ... )
Fran had never really been good at dealing with comments on her appearance. She looked as all Viera did - there was nothing particularly special about her, when compared to one of her own race. And yet, Humes never ceased to be astounded or confused by her, almost always staring
( ... )
"Take as long as you need, darling." Kuja waved a hand dismissively, beginning to sketch a new design to take to the cobblers. Whilst everyone had their self-righteous yelling matches and soap opera episodes, Kuja had put his skills to use. An Empire was being built right under people's noses and they were none the wiser.
He smirked to himself, looking at 'The List' kept in his notebook. A list of all the services now loyal to him and would instantly become affected should he be harmed by another business. This was fun.
The shoe sketch had progressed to a rough sketch of a hairstyle, Kuja pondering on how to style Fran's lovely curled hair. She had far more than he had expected, but then again it was hard to deduce a whole appearance from tiny squares.
Walking to the Vanity, he began taking out little jars of makeup before taking a seat and waiting for her.
{{Abel, can we keep the replies like this? It'll send an email to me either way X3}}
Working her way through the fasteners, shedding the armour piece by piece and setting it carefully aside, it didn't take near as long as one would think for Fran to undress. It was not as simple as sliding it over her head, but so far as what had to be done, she moved at a decent pace. The only thing that remained was her helm, which she would leave for now, as she saw no reason to remove it - it did not interfere with wearing a dress.
That done, she quickly dressed and stepped out of the stall, awaiting Kuja's inspection. It was far easier than the process of undressing at least. She had not yet taken the moment to examine herself, though it was comfortable enough. Not constricting, though not bulky.
"Kuja," she said simply, announcing her reemergence, should he not have heard her already.
"My own ingenuity never ceases to amaze me." The Genome beamed, urging her to stand in front of the semi-circle of full-length mirrors. He guided her to turn slowly so he could inspect intricately how the fabric fell.
"Just the right length, so I'll have to measure how high those heels of yours are." Crouching, he took a rough estimate with his fingers before noting it down on paper. "Now let's play around with your hair and makeup. It's crucial you stun Balthier on the day of your wedding of course!"
Coaxing her to take a seat at the vanity, he tapped her helm. "Can you remove this?"
This was not the kind of attention that Fran was used to. Typically, the only one who dared even touch her was Balthier - and here was a person, turning her to examine her, up close. Of course, he was focussed on the dress rather than herself, but it was still an odd feeling for the Viera
( ... )
Not surprisingly, her hair was a little coarse from the Rivelatan sun. It was clean, yes, but he guessed she probably treated her hair as something to be kept clean and not styled. Taking up a brush in hand, he very gently began to preen it.
"Just sit tight and let me work my magic, dear." Kuja grinned, holding up handfuls of hair briefly to gauge how it would appear in so-and-so a style. "I suppose in Rivelata you must receive a fair few stares due to your appearance. Being the only one of your kind here, darling, makes you a unique living statue of beauty."
Whatever their gender, Kuja had a keen aesthetic eye for beauty and he was never shy about voicing it. That and Fran did not seem the type to waste her words on refuting an adamant point of view.
After settling on a teased updo with tiny flowers, he began to brush subtle coppery colors onto her skin. "Does no one from your race paint themselves like so?" Kuja gestured at what he was doing to her. "In my world, a similar race to yours paint themselves like the humans too."
She remained silent throughout the process, her only movement being the occasional twitch of an ear, tickled by the movement of her hair. Previous to this, she had left it to its own devices, only tying it back for practicality's sake. He had a gentle hand nonetheless, so she had no complaint
( ... )
"Distance." Kuja echoed, brows raised slightly. The Dragoons of Cleyra cloistered themselves from the world; within, around and atop a beautiful tree so large it housed a civilization. Until Kuja destroyed it of course, for the useless creatures did nothing but occupy space. They served as ample target practice for his amassing powers
( ... )
She could imagine that this was yet another race, though she had not heard of them. Then, there were many in this world that would not have existed within Ivalice. Of course, were these people similar to the Viera, it was highly unlikely that they would share the tales of their people outside their own kind.
She vaguely wondered how much this man knew of their history, to speak so knowingly on the subject. Balthier had never been keen on speaking of his ties to Archades, much as she rarely spoke of the events following her exile from Eruyt. Each knew parts of the others past, though Fran had told no other.
Of course, as Sky Pirates, it would also be a fair assumption to think that they no longer had homes aside from the Strahl. T'was not honest work, not the type done by those who had a family or home to return to
( ... )
"Ah but many a soul has died trying to gain freedom. 'Tis the most elusive of endings to one's tale and usually it is death that one finds first." Kuja reminded her. "True freedom is something so rare it is a treasure in itself."
At least for him, it was. Escaping the clutches of an overbearing scientist who wanted the world to be his through Kuja's efforts. Finding himself in Rivelata was a strange, yet welcomed chapter in the story of his life.
"And there we are." He announced, setting the brush down to join the others of different shapes and sizes. Stepping back, he admired his work and delighted in the fact Fran was already beautiful enough to begin with. It was a rare find, amongst the ordinary riff-raff of the population.
"You'll have to come back again just to try on the shoes, but other than that you're outfit is ready for the wedding." Taking her hand, he guided her back to the enclave of mirrors and gestured at her reflection.
"You'll stun him into submission, my dear." The Genome winked.
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"My dear, you are stunning beyond measure and by the time I'm finished with you- you'll be a living work of art."
The tiny snapshots in the journals did her no justice, Kuja was convinced. One never saw the true hue of her flawless skin, nor the way her hair was like snow. She was the ultimate priceless treasure Balthier would gain. Somehow, it made Kuja happy to realize that about his friend.
"Now that I've seen you I'm going to have to rework a lot of things." A sigh as he beckoned at Fran to follow him into the dressing area. "I knew you were taller than Balthier so I had flat shoes made for you- however it seems you need heels to stand."
"At least the dress shall be fine." Kuja carefully withdrew a stunning creation from one of the tall wardrobes. "You have to understand I'm not exactly a conventional designer. Stark white ( ... )
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He smirked to himself, looking at 'The List' kept in his notebook. A list of all the services now loyal to him and would instantly become affected should he be harmed by another business. This was fun.
The shoe sketch had progressed to a rough sketch of a hairstyle, Kuja pondering on how to style Fran's lovely curled hair. She had far more than he had expected, but then again it was hard to deduce a whole appearance from tiny squares.
Walking to the Vanity, he began taking out little jars of makeup before taking a seat and waiting for her.
{{Abel, can we keep the replies like this? It'll send an email to me either way X3}}
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Working her way through the fasteners, shedding the armour piece by piece and setting it carefully aside, it didn't take near as long as one would think for Fran to undress. It was not as simple as sliding it over her head, but so far as what had to be done, she moved at a decent pace. The only thing that remained was her helm, which she would leave for now, as she saw no reason to remove it - it did not interfere with wearing a dress.
That done, she quickly dressed and stepped out of the stall, awaiting Kuja's inspection. It was far easier than the process of undressing at least. She had not yet taken the moment to examine herself, though it was comfortable enough. Not constricting, though not bulky.
"Kuja," she said simply, announcing her reemergence, should he not have heard her already.
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"Just the right length, so I'll have to measure how high those heels of yours are." Crouching, he took a rough estimate with his fingers before noting it down on paper. "Now let's play around with your hair and makeup. It's crucial you stun Balthier on the day of your wedding of course!"
Coaxing her to take a seat at the vanity, he tapped her helm.
"Can you remove this?"
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"Just sit tight and let me work my magic, dear." Kuja grinned, holding up handfuls of hair briefly to gauge how it would appear in so-and-so a style. "I suppose in Rivelata you must receive a fair few stares due to your appearance. Being the only one of your kind here, darling, makes you a unique living statue of beauty."
Whatever their gender, Kuja had a keen aesthetic eye for beauty and he was never shy about voicing it. That and Fran did not seem the type to waste her words on refuting an adamant point of view.
After settling on a teased updo with tiny flowers, he began to brush subtle coppery colors onto her skin.
"Does no one from your race paint themselves like so?" Kuja gestured at what he was doing to her. "In my world, a similar race to yours paint themselves like the humans too."
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She could imagine that this was yet another race, though she had not heard of them. Then, there were many in this world that would not have existed within Ivalice. Of course, were these people similar to the Viera, it was highly unlikely that they would share the tales of their people outside their own kind.
She vaguely wondered how much this man knew of their history, to speak so knowingly on the subject. Balthier had never been keen on speaking of his ties to Archades, much as she rarely spoke of the events following her exile from Eruyt. Each knew parts of the others past, though Fran had told no other.
Of course, as Sky Pirates, it would also be a fair assumption to think that they no longer had homes aside from the Strahl. T'was not honest work, not the type done by those who had a family or home to return to ( ... )
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At least for him, it was. Escaping the clutches of an overbearing scientist who wanted the world to be his through Kuja's efforts. Finding himself in Rivelata was a strange, yet welcomed chapter in the story of his life.
"And there we are." He announced, setting the brush down to join the others of different shapes and sizes. Stepping back, he admired his work and delighted in the fact Fran was already beautiful enough to begin with. It was a rare find, amongst the ordinary riff-raff of the population.
"You'll have to come back again just to try on the shoes, but other than that you're outfit is ready for the wedding." Taking her hand, he guided her back to the enclave of mirrors and gestured at her reflection.
"You'll stun him into submission, my dear." The Genome winked.
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