( voice ) delivery

[haillenarte]

Name: Francel
Date: June 5
Format: Voice

Might I — ngh — might I trouble someone for help?

[there's a soft crackle of what might be breath on the mic, and then the shifting of what sounds like bedsheets. the voice that ultimately speaks again is low and husky, fairly deep, but there's something boyish and hesitant to it. some of francel's words come out awkward and tense, as if he is in a great deal of pain, and struggling to get the words out.]

It's been... several bells since last I took a meal, by my count, and... I'm terribly hungry. The... the man with whom I share a residence is not like to be back for some time. Could I trouble someone to bring food to my doorstep?

[really, even he can't believe he's asking for this.]

I have little coin, but I would happily pay you for your time. Please, and blessings on you.

Comments

[haillenarte]

I would gladly drink an entire numbing potion, but I don't have any on hand.

[that's probably a joke, but he delivers it so flatly that it doesn't really sound like one. in any case, he braces himself against the wall, the lunch package in hand, and musters another smile.]

Could I ask you to help me back into the kitchen? I can eat there. And... I will remember that I owe you a favor.

[clickclickbang]

Yeah, sure. Lemme just tie Prim up...

[Which he does fairly quickly before returning and throwing Francel's arm over his shoulder.]

Seriously, don't worry about it. You're not feeling good and I could help. Obviously I was gonna help.

[haillenarte]

[even through his cloak, francel's skin is cool to the touch — not clammy, nor even just chilly, but actively cold. it's not quite like ice, but he feels as though he's come out of a refrigerator. it would be refreshing if it were not mildly concerning.]

I can't remember if you mentioned it in our first conversation. What is it that you do in your homeland, Prompto?

[clickclickbang]

[Yeah, that explains the cloak. Weird.]

Uh, technically I'm part of Noct's Crownsguard--his bodyguards. Though with everything going on it's gotten way more complicated than just being the king's bodyguard.

[haillenarte]

Ah... like a knight?

[clickclickbang]

Sort of but not quite? There were only three of us.

[haillenarte]

[he seems a little tired and sleepy as they trudge in through the door, but at this remark, for some reason, francel laughs.]

An elite order of knights, then.

[clickclickbang]

Ignis and Gladio? Defs. Me? Literally just Noct's best friend who happens to be damn good with a gun.

[Okay, kitchen is...that way, he's assuming.]

[haillenarte]

[his instincts are... correct! the ishgardians keep a relatively simple kitchen, but there's a dining table where francel can put his lunchbox down, and plenty of silverware in the cabinets for him to choose from. he sinks into the chair and smiles gratefully up at prompto.]

My brother is good with guns. If you have a knack for firearms, you are of more use than you think you are. And, Prompto... there is no shame in being someone's best friend. Sometimes the best friend is the hardest role to play.

[clickclickbang]

Yeah, but it's worth it.

[Okay, lunchbox on the table, time to find the silverware--]

Okay, are you going judge me if I grab you the wrong fork or whatever? Because I am getting serious flashbacks to the time Ignis tried to teach me how to do court dinners looking at all this silverware.

[Not really, it looks mostly familiar, but Francel could probably use a joke or two.]

[haillenarte]

[francel laughs again, not least because this particular dilemma of prompto's is one that he grew quite familiar with thanks to the commoners that worked at skyfire locks.]

Fret not — I'll not test you on your table manners. I'd rather not burden my housemate with more dishes to wash, frankly; I'll just eat the whole meal with one fork.

[admittedly:] It's all pomp and bluster, anyway. Take it from a man born into the aristocracy.

[clickclickbang]

Knew it!

[Prompto laughs and digs out a set for Francel, setting them on the table.]

Rich people always have to come up with ridiculous ways to lord it over us peasants. Jokes on them, none of us care!

[haillenarte]

[francel smiles a little wryly, inclining his head in thanks for the help.]

It's not about the peasantry, really. It's about being able to correct one another. To be the hawk in the den of vipers...

[clickclickbang]

And threaten people over insults that weren't actually insults?

[haillenarte]

[another soft chuckle.]

You seem to understand it well enough.

[clickclickbang]

Television and listening to Noct gripe about it since high school. You pick up a few things after that long.