037 » on and on we carry through the fear

[shiruyeh]

CALL ME OUT MEME.

♛ please refer to this list for canon muses and this list for original characters. ♛ "call" one of them out — you can do so by putting their name in the subject line of your post! ♛ this can be informal/formal/comment spam/crosscanon/shippy/smutty/whatever tickles your fancy! ♛ here are some prompts inspired by other memes! ❶ — texts from last night. ❷ — morning after. ❸ — drunk/drinking. ❹ — picture prompt. ❺ — insomnia. ❻ — sharing the same bed. ❼ — snow day. ❽ — sky gazing. ❾ — roadtrip.

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[valhourdin]

[ Whether Francel is content to use himself as his desk or it is ingrained politeness, Zephirin clears some space for Francel's use, pushing his chair and his belongings to one end. The desk is large enough to accommodate two people who don't scatter their papers all over it.

He resumes his marking, to the sound of Francel's fingers moving across the laptop's keys. Now and again, the tip of his pen scratches against a page. ]

[haillenarte]

[it is no conscious decision, but some part of francel registers that the cleared space is for him; when his laptop grows too hot for his thighs, he places it on the edge of zephirin's table. the boy types quickly, and with accuracy. the mechanical nature of his task seems to consume him — for a good long while, francel keeps his head bent over the packet of papers, fingers moving without rest, without error.

after some ten minutes, however, francel finishes with his notes. a second quick pass through the document lets him fill in some translated lines he didn't get to. after this, he figures, it's best if he lets professor valhourdin take a look.]

...Um... Professor? I finished... do you mind taking a look?

[francel's translations are not bad, especially considering that he did not have to resort to using a dictionary. they don't fit the syllable requirements, but that's a whole other ordeal.]

[valhourdin]

[ Francel's voice breaks the silence that sets in when his typing stops. Placing his pen down, Zephirin leaves his seat to stand beside the boy's chair and lean over for a look at his screen, the heel of his hand against the edge of the desk. Where others might comment here and there as they go, he reads through Francel's translations and the corresponding sonnet without a single word until he reaches the end of the final line. ]

Fluency doesn't appear to be an issue — even unpolished, your translations capture the original's meaning for the most part. Following a strict rhyme and meter scheme should become easier with practice.

[ Unfortunately, with an encroaching deadline, there is no time for practice. ]

Perhaps if you change a few of your word choices?

[ Careful not to touch the monitor, Zephirin points out a number of lines for Francel to reexamine. ]

[haillenarte]

[zephirin keeps francel waiting in suspense, but the undergraduate doesn't seem to mind. he lans back in his seat, secretly thankful for the sensation of zephirin's body leaning close to his. when the sound of zephirin's voice breaks the spell of soothing silence, francel opens his eyes, nodding eagerly. he takes zephirin's advice, fingers dancing along the keys.]

Right, right... and the sonnet that I wrote? Was it strange or unnatural at all?

[valhourdin]

[ For a fraction of a second, giving Francel a sidelong glance, Zephirin wonders whether the boy is on the verge of falling asleep, but Francel responds without delay. They choose to move at the same time; Zephirin straightens up as Francel leans forward to type, resulting in a brush of elbows. Then Zephirin turns to face Francel's chair, and Francel has his section of the desk back to himself. ]

On the whole, it reads well. I would take another look at this line, however... And this one.

[ He leans close again, indicating the parts of the document to revisit, although they could be attempts at wordplay. ]

Unless your aim is a kind of whiplash for the reader.

[haillenarte]

I... guess it was a poor attempt at a joke...

[upon closer inspection, it really does seem that francel's ears are capable of drooping just a tiny bit... or are they? he shakes off his bout of gloominess soon enough (but they really did look like they were drooping!), making corrections as soon as he can think of alternative words.]

Alright... I feel better about this now. I guess I'll turn it in?

[valhourdin]

[ Zephirin's eyes rest on Francel's ears perhaps another fraction of a second too long; some idly curious part of him waits to confirm what he saw. In the end he takes his seat again, offering Francel his encouragement in the form of a faintly amused smile. ]

Considering the task set the class, it isn't unimpressive that you've made the deadline and produced work that should satisfy even Professor de Leusignac.

[ Zephirin sets a sheet of notepad paper and a pen down near Francel. ]

When you've submitted your assignment, please write down your contact details and availability here. If you had a specific problem area to address, that would be helpful to include.

[haillenarte]

Ah — yes, I will!

[hastily composing an email to the widely-feared professor de leusignac, francel fires his work off with a soft and relieved sigh. after he closes his laptop screen, he takes up the pen, writing in his name and contact information in a surprisingly dignified script. the neatness of his handwriting is all the more funny when he fills in his "problem area" as "i'm just bad at things"...]

Anything else?

[valhourdin]

[ Now Zephirin's eyes linger on that line, and his eyebrows arch. Nevertheless, ascertaining which "things" Francel needs to concentrate on can be left for his first session with his tutor. ]

No, that will be fine. [ Once the piece of paper is in his hand, Zephirin tucks it inside a holder beside his keyboard. ] You'll hear from me by tomorrow evening.

[ Outside, the rain has picked up again, and Zephirin casts the window a look before scrutinizing Francel's drying hair and clothing, and contemplating the listed gaps in the boy's schedule. ]

Do you live off-campus, Francel?

[haillenarte]

Hm?

[francel glances up, unable to discern zephirin's thoughts.]

I do... though my house isn't too far. I was going to run over to the bus stops just now, actually.

[valhourdin]

[ For Zephirin, student accommodation eliminated a daily commute, and now staff parking eliminates waiting for a bus. He begins to gather up his belongings, papers slipped into a plastic sleeve. ]

Allow me to offer you a ride home. I imagine it's likely that your bus is delayed.

[ And he imagines that commuters will be vying for shelter from the weather at the bus stop, and for seats and room to stand in the aisle when they pile onto the bus. He imagines that by the time Francel arrives home, he would be soaked through. ]

[haillenarte]

H-Huh?! Ah, no, that — I'll be fine...

[really, francel is protesting just to be polite. zephirin is absolutely right that the buses are probably delayed in all this torrential rain — with all the fuss and the crowds, francel will be lucky to make it home before nightfall. a ride sounds amazing. it's incredibly tempting.

on the other hand, there are risks — like what if zephirin is a bad driver? (he doesn't look like one.) should he really just get into a stranger's car? (but he's a professor.) and what if things get weird? (francel wouldn't say no...)]

...Y-You don't mind?

[valhourdin]

I assume you don't get carsick?

[ The question isn't serious, despite its delivery.

It's no surprise that Francel declines at first — it's probable that someone who avoids taking up desk space would balk at the thought of any detour made on his account. It's possible that accepting a ride from a stranger makes him uncomfortable for other reasons, too, not without cause. He has no way of knowing for certain that he can trust Zephirin.

Unfazed, Zephirin closes his briefcase and shuts down his computer. He slips his coat back on. ]

Take precautions and let someone know that you're with me, if you wish.

[haillenarte]

[for a moment, an oddly vacant surprise seems to steal over francel's features. he looks down at his phone, his thumb reflexively pressing the screen awake — but instead of checking his messages, he turns it off again.]

...No... It wouldn't matter, anyway.

[after a beat, francel casts off his coldness; he looks up at zephirin, smiling. the boy slides his laptop and his phone back into his bag.]

If you don't mind, I'll take the ride home. I'll have to think of some way to pay you back, though. I mean, for gas if nothing else...

[valhourdin]

[ Francel's remark is somewhat jarring, strangely flat, but his personal circumstances are his own business, and Zephirin's gaze only flicks up from his coat's buttons to study the boy's face. The next moment, he picks up his umbrella, hooking it over one arm, and readies his keys and his access card. ]

There is no need. Of course, if you feel obliged, I can't stop you.

[ He pockets the piece of paper Francel filled out earlier, crosses the room, and holds the door open, waiting. ]

[haillenarte]

I-I would feel obliged! So you can't stop me!

[with that slightly flustered (and ridiculous) exclamation, francel gathers up his things and follows zephirin out the door. the young blond resembles an excited puppy, or some other small, energetic animal — were he a miqo'te, his tail would probably be bobbing to and fro in excitement.

in an effort to be helpful, francel jogs ahead a little bit in order to be the first to press the button for the elevator...]

...Where do you live, Professor, ah... V-Valhourdin?

[he stumbles over the pronunciation a little — he's not wrong, but he's guessing.]

[valhourdin]

[ Pulling the door closed and locking it behind them hides Zephirin's returning amusement. Francel's sudden liveliness is charming, it suits him better than the odd look he wore a few moments ago. Zephirin's even steps catch up with the boy when the elevator announces reaching their floor with a ding, doors opening. They tend to shut quickly, so Zephirin places his arm over the sensor until Francel has stepped through. ]

Roughly half an hour away from campus. Have you been to Saint Reinette's Park?

[ A press of another button sends them on their way to the ground floor. ]

You'll need to give me your address or directions as I drive.

[haillenarte]

Ah, yes... It's nice there, I like that park.

[secretly, francel likes it when people are kind enough to hold elevator doors open for him, because he's usually never assertive enough to hold them open on his own. for a moment, he wonders dreamily about what kind of car zephirin drives, but then the man's question-statement takes him off-guard.]

I live in Last Vigil... you know, the gated community. So you can just drop me off anywhere near there...

[most would be proud of this fact, but francel seems faintly ashamed of it, as though he would rather not live in such prestigious, upper-class dwellings.]

[valhourdin]

[ Zephirin's nod is simultaneously agreement that the park not far from his apartment is a nice location, his admission that he recognizes the housing community where Francel lives, and acknowledgement of the boy's request. His expression doesn't change, though he has his guesses as to why Francel is embarrassed to answer. ]

I'm not overly familiar with it, but I usually drive through your suburb.

[ The elevator stops, and again Zephirin lets Francel through ahead of him. From the faculty building, they have a winding path to take through the rain to the covered parking spaces. Zephirin opens his umbrella, positioning it over their heads. ]

[haillenarte]

I suppose it's kind of hard not to.

[on account of how large the neighborhood is, for one thing...

acting on pure reflex, francel draws close to zephirin and slips his hand into the crook of the older man's elbow — because isn't it just more comfortable to walk like this in the rain? — but then he suddenly remembers himself and jerks back.]

Ah — er — forgive me! I just sort of... I just felt...

[valhourdin]

[ The weight of Francel's hand on Zephirin's arm is there and then gone in the span of seconds, as if touching Zephirin's sleeve has burned the boy's fingers. Surprise flashes across Zephirin's features, but fades before long. Walking underneath the same umbrella necessitates sharing their personal space for a while. ]

Cold? [ He presents Francel with an excuse. ] We don't have far to walk.

[haillenarte]

[it is kind of zephirin to present an excuse. francel's cheeks burn red, but the cold rain keeps him from evaporating out of embarrassment.]

...Mmm. I used to walk like that with my older brother when I was little.

[idly, francel kicks at a nearby pebble — it lands in a puddle near the sidewalk.]

He's a real big shot in the military now, I think. I haven't seen him in a few months. My other siblings and my parents tend to work late... so it's just me at home, most of the time. And the cleaning staff, but they come in on Sundays...

[valhourdin]

[ The breeze is chilly, and after a moment, Zephirin proffers his arm for Francel to take. They don't look like brothers — even if Francel's kicking his pebble makes him look young and small and dejected — but there's no one about to see them and speculate.

As Francel reveals glimpses of his family, it explains his reaction to Zephirin's suggestion to inform someone of his whereabouts. Waiting for him is an empty house.

To some extent, Zephirin can relate. He rarely saw his father, growing up. ]

Yours is a hardworking family...

[ But he doubts that Francel has brought up his home life for the sake of hearing such comments. ]

Then you're alone for the evening.

[ This comment's purpose is simply to give Francel an opening to continue, questionable though Zephirin's intentions must seem for it. ]

[haillenarte]

[francel takes the arm given to him. his expression stays casual, but there is a tinge of greed to the way he clutches zephirin's elbow and draws himself close.]

Yes... but that's as it always is.

[the boy sighs, a tad too relaxed perhaps, but he likes the sensation of having zephirin beside him, and it's easy for him to talk about this sort of thing.]

...I'd be a pretty good target for a ransoming, huh...

[valhourdin]

[ Francel could be joking, if he weren't in a genuinely vulnerable position. He sounds unworried, matter-of-fact, but Zephirin decides against dropping him off somewhere in the general vicinity of his street. ]

I wouldn't advertise it.

[ Carefully, Zephirin leads them along the path; the ground is slippery with puddles and dead leaves, and the trees lining it block out what little light is left on so dreary a day. At last they come to a stop beside his car, a sleek silver sedan — with a couple of fallen leaves clinging to the roof. Keeping the umbrella in place, Zephirin unlocks and opens the passenger side door at the front for Francel to get in first. The car's interior is spotless, free of clutter. ]

If you like to listen to the radio or music, go ahead.