Entry tags:
037 » on and on we carry through the fear
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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They've both arrived early, but Francel might be in need of a break from French. ]
Are you feeling unwell?
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[obediently, francel trudges toward the chair indicated to him, even though there are closer chairs — he's simply on autopilot and not thinking much about it. he throws himself into the chair rather heavily, taking a moment just to close his eyes before he sits up and tries to give zephirin his full attention.]
Sorry. I'm just a bit tired — I just got out of class. But I'm ready, I swear...
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Sitting back in his seat, glancing at the clock on the wall, Zephirin shakes his head. ]
Unless you intend to leave early, you have another ten minutes before we'll start. You mentioned cookies last week?
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Oh! You're right! I forgot! I mean — I remembered! I mean, I brought the cookies, I just forgot until now...!
[fumbling through his bag, francel at last comes up with a very clean and well-designed food storage container, all pretty glass lines and printed with cute rabbits along the side. sure enough, there are cookies inside — one row of fruit jam cookies, center-filled, and another of chocolate chip.]
You don't have any allergies, do you? I thought these were pretty safe choices...
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It's endearing that Francel takes this promise so seriously that the thought of breaking it causes him genuine distress. ]
They're fine. May I take one of each?
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[at first, francel proffers the box for zephirin’s taking, but then he realizes that his gesture is quite useless, and he sets it in the middle of the table in front of them. he has enough energy to muster a weak smile, it seems.]
I made them, so they might not be very good...
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Baking his cookies instead of bringing a store-bought packet with him, Francel has gone to an unexpected amount of trouble to keep his promise indeed. ]
I didn't realize that you bake them yourself.
[ Raising the cookie to his mouth, holding his other hand positioned to catch falling crumbs, Zephirin bites into it. ]
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Well, we had the ingredients, and it's a lot of fun to squeeze the jam in. Do you like them? You can take more.
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[ Zephirin is no cookie connoisseur, but the product of Francel's baking efforts is edible, pleasing in taste. Having paused to reply after his first bite to chew and swallow, he finishes the rest, and helps himself to a cookie from the other row. This one sits cupped in Zephirin's palm as he regards Francel, who gradually seems to be regaining his energy, his fear of Professor de Leusignac at least temporarily forgotten. ]
Have you brought your questions as well?
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I-I'm sorry... I didn't... bring anything...
[he lifts his head hopefully.]
W-We could go over some of the new material we covered in class today...? I didn't understand some of it...
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When you're ready. [ He nods. ] Let's continue to schedule our sessions to take place after your class with Professor de Leusignac. It makes no difference whether you prepare questions to bring or we discuss difficulties you've encountered in class.
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[francel seems to need a steeling of nerves, so he takes up a jam cookie and stuffs it whole into his face; his cheeks bulge with its weight as he crunches and chews until at last the normal appearance of his face is restored.]
Ah... well, okay. We went over some, um... very esoteric material today, and some of the verb constructions are a bit...
[the young man pulls out his neatly organized folder and takes out a worksheet that was given in class, handing it over so that zephirin can explain certain things he's marked with tiny question marks and notes in an equally tiny print.]
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It takes some effort to read the boy's writing — in several places, the letters are almost too small to tell apart without a magnifying glass. Before long, Zephirin pauses to rub the bridge of his nose. ]
...Professor de Leusignac will most likely use this material in a future assignment.
[ As they work through Francel's questions, Emmanellain's barrage of messages resumes, undeterred by their recipient's silence. ]
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francel ignores the buzzing of his phone in his bag. at some point, he reaches backward to switch it silent entirely.]
...'ankyu. [he swallows, and clears his throat.] I mean... thank you. I understand a little better now.
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You have the potential to do well. [ Francel isn't "just bad at things." His problem, without a doubt, is that his fear of his professor is indeed crippling. ] I'll have a word with Professor de Leusignac...
[ Zephirin glances at Francel's bag, where the boy's silenced phone must be full of texts that may or may not be urgent. ]
Go ahead and answer that.
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[francel's voice rises steadily in pitch as he speaks. there is a crumb at the corner of his lips; his tongue peeks out and licks it up before he speaks again, anxious, almost begging.]
You don't have to do that! I-I mean, I'd really prefer it if you didn't...
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[ Anything else would paint a bigger target on Francel.
Zephirin's gaze returns to the boy's face, slides to the stray crumb, follows the movement of Francel's tongue. His hand relaxes after coming close to pointing that crumb out to Francel. Instead, he places Francel's worksheet back down on the table in front of its owner. ]
Of course, I won't go against your wishes.
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[truly, francel wears his heart on his sleeve. the student's expressions are vivid and unfettered, like those of a boy much younger; he seems, somehow, emotionally defenseless. his hand twitches toward another cookie, but stays itself in time.]
If it's not about me, that's fine. I was just worried...
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[ Zephirin reaches for a third cookie, fruit jam once more, transferring it to his palm. ]
Frankly, I believe his approach holds his students back.
[ It's unfortunate that no one has proof that Charibert goes so far as to arbitrarily fail students, culling the herd for their own good, in his view. Those who survive his classes pride themselves on making it through.
Francel, already traumatized, still has the rest of the semester to endure. ]
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[unconsciously, francel presses his hands together, as if in hopeful prayer.]
...He was the only one teaching this course this semester, and everyone said that if I could make it through his class, I'd be really, really good at French. I'd gotten straight As before then, so I thought it would be okay, but... I don't know. I thought... maybe I just wasn't good enough.
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[ With a certain amount of resilience, Francel will emerge "really, really good at French" at the end of what must seem a long, dark tunnel of harsh penalties and no praise. In that sense, Charibert's methods do motivate some students to work harder — others, easily discouraged, drop the course altogether, and Charibert mercilessly purges them from the class list.
Francel's soft features are an open book that tells the same story as his half-eaten box of cookies. ]
...I wouldn't take his remarks to heart.
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[francel's soft features turn even softer, as he averts his eyes, looking somewhat shy.]
I-It's just... I could shrug it off if I didn't respect him, but Professor de Leusignac is smart and scary, so... somehow it hurts more... [oh!] Ah, but you're really smart too, Zephirin...
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[ Zephirin may be smart, and Francel may have been nervous to approach him at first, but even he can't be intimidating now, nibbling on cookies from Francel's box. The jam cookie waits cupped in his hand. ]
Nevertheless, I hope you'll consider taking what I've said on board instead.
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[the warm, bright smile that spreads across francel's face — sunshine through the clouds — would be disarming even without the context of his complimenting zephirin. in context, it is a smile to melt one's heart, even on the coldest of winter days.]
I feel really relaxed when I talk to you.
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Perhaps it's an accomplishment that a boy like Francel finds Zephirin's company relaxing. ]
Enough to believe me over Professor de Leusignac?
[ A pleased Zephirin has something in common with a cat curled up in a sunny spot, serenely licking its paws. ]
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