( 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

voice;

[clickclickbang]

[Francel?]

Dude, are you okay?

[Wait.]

Other than the obvious. Are you sick or something?

[haillenarte]

Oh... it's you.

[he recognizes the voice immediately! the name, however, takes a moment. the boy with the chocobo, the one who'd shared food with him — he said his name was...]

Prompto. Have you been well?

[francel definitely doesn't sound well.]

I'm... fine. I merely... well, yes, I suppose I have fallen ill.

[clickclickbang]

Eh, mostly. Gettin' kind of furry but it's no big. You, on the other hand...

[haillenarte]

[the young lord laughs a little nervously.]

I'd trade the scales for fur, if only I could. Fur sounds... pleasant.

[clickclickbang]

Oh, shit. You're turning into something else, too.

[Sounds of him moving around.]

I can bring you food, no problem. What're you in the mood for?

[haillenarte]

[an audible sigh of relief escapes francel for prompto's gentle assurances.]

You're a godsend, Prompto.

[honestly, he could cry.]

I... I'm not too picky, truthfully. Our worlds are similar, aren't they? I'm not too keen on some of the local produce, but... I'm sure whatever you recognize as food will be just fine by me.

[clickclickbang]

Spicy or not spicy?

[haillenarte]

[okay, fair point.]

Er... less spicy, I think. I like cheeses and cream... and sweets.

[he sounds a little embarrassed to admit it...]

[clickclickbang]

Okay, that I can do. I just like things spicy and didn't want to scorch your taste buds. Where're you living?

[haillenarte]

You are a stronger man than I.

[and with that, francel will give prompto detailed directions to his house! he lives in an ordinary housing district close to the wall, and his house is, um, kind of a fixer-upper. he's been... fixing it up.]

action?

[clickclickbang]

Okay. I'm, uh, basically I grabbed the first place with a stable and that was a fancy house so I'll be a bit, but I'm on my way!

ye!

[haillenarte]

[by the time prompto arrives to francel's house, the young lord has at least done him the favor of, well, stepping out to answer the door. he's clad in a long linen cloak that covers most of his body dsepite the relatively warm weather; his hood is lowered, though, exposing the long, finlike horns that havegrown from behind his ears. there's something... weird on his back, too, sort of like he might be wearing a backpack underneath the cloak.

in any case, he looks up and smiles when he sees prompto coming down the road.]

There you are. Thank you again.

[clickclickbang]

Any time.

[Prompto will, politely, not stare at the horns or the thing on Francel's back. In exchange, he hopes Francel won't stare at the fur that's along his shoulders that trails down to his elbows, or the pointed ears. That's just the most visible part of what he's going through.

He holds out the (rather cutely) wrapped package]

I got you a full meal, some sort of cheese and beer soup and this chicken dish they recommended and a few rolls and half a cheesecake. [A beat as he realizes that Francel may not know what that is.] That's a cake that's made with cream cheese, it's sweet and rich and trust me it's good.

[cyclopticsadist]

[Well sounds like somebody is suffering, and Niles had just made himself a meal. He could spare some leftovers. He'd been eating straight out of the pan as he normally does, but he takes a moment to get the foods into some travel suitable containers. When the video reply goes through it doesn't show a person, rather it pans over some rye bread, a thick reddish stew of some kind, diced and grilled potatoes, and some slices of sausage. A voice comes from behind the field of view.]

This look to your liking? Where exactly are you?

text

[veilfires]

Aymeric is away?
I can gather in a box supplies enough to last a man a week. If that is suitable, I will deliver it before the onset of dusk.

[haillenarte]

[for a moment, francel simply gapes at the package as prompto describes an incredibly appetizing meal that could seemingly be served for high house supper — the sort of thing that francel hasn't had in years, but which he has certainly craved many times over.

he holds out his (somewhat shaky) hands to accept the (adorable) lunchbox. he's quite possibly so moved that he might cry.]

Oh, that... that sounds lovely, Prompto. How much should I recompense you?

[clickclickbang]

[Look, he's no Ignis but Francel sounded awful and it's no fun going through these transformations. The least he could do was get something decent and filling.

Especially if "bells" means "hours", meaning Francel got hungry really fast like Prompto's guessing.]

Nothing! Seriously, it's no big.

[haillenarte]

[that looks... incredible, honestly. it's not quite the cuisine that is served in his birth city of ishgard, but it looks like good traditional coerthan cooking, and francel feels a pang of saliva hit him at the back of his mouth.

he still responds with voice, though he certainly doesn't mind the visual. mmmm, stew.]

I? I am in my residence...

[it occurs to him, though, that maybe he shouldn't so readily invite strangers over without at least ascertaining who they are.]

You don't mind taking it over here? Surely you meant to eat that yourself?

text

[haillenarte]

[solas! a relief.]

I expect he will return in the evening, or late this evening, if that is what you mean. But that makes some hours yet.

I would appreciate that greatly. I am sorry for the trouble.

[haillenarte]

Truly?

[it's tempting to just devour the whole thing outside, but at the very least, he should try to act more dignified. concerned, francel fixes prompto with a worried stare.]

Fury above, you are too kind. I pray the world does not take advantage of that.

[clickclickbang]

[Prompto just sort of smiles and shrugs.]

So far they haven't! Unless you count dogs, because I am weak to puppy eyes and not ashamed to admit it.

text.. to action!

[veilfires]

I see.
It is no trouble. I am happy to help a friend.

[There’s a space of about two hours. He manages better than before dusk - his next message comes in the mid-late afternoon.]

I will be there soon.

[He sends that with enough time that there’s a grace period where Francel can call things off, on the off-chance that a change in his condition has come about that would make a face-to-face visit taxing rather than an assistance.

Without such a rejection - ten minutes later there comes a knock-knocking at Francel’s door.]

action ahoy!

[haillenarte]

[in truth, francel dragged his aching bones out of bed long ago in preparation for solas’s arrival; he has been sitting pitifully in the entry hall, and he reacts as quickly as he can to the knock at the door. upon turning the knob and finding solas at his doorstep, francel immediately decides that he’s never been quite so glad to see such a bald head. he smiles gratefully with tired eyes.]

Solas. Again, thank you for coming.

[he should at least be polite, he reminds himself — he steps aside to let solas in.]

Would you like a moment’s respite from the heat?

[this is in itself an odd question — it’s not particularly hot today.]

[haillenarte]

You really don't need anything in return? I have...

[well, not much, honestly. there's definitely no food in the house, for one thing.]

We've water and tea on hand. No treats for your chocobo, I'm afraid.

[clickclickbang]

[He can tell Francel wants to give him something and honestly, he's thirsty.]

Water'd be fine. D'you have, like, a hose or something I can use to give Prim water?

[Wait, does he know what a water hose is?]