Entry tags:
020 » just know that you won't have to do this alone
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. |

Come get molested Francel
For the first month he's left alone save for people bringing him food and cleaning him. He's an alien, so who knows what diseases he might be carrying? It's a necessary quarantine period. Once it's been established that he no longer has the ability to hurt anyone and he won't make anyone sick, Francel is scrubbed from head to toe and strapped to an examination chair for one of their lovely scientists to take a look at. He's fortunate that it's Ryan, because Griffith would almost certainly want to try and take a bite out of an alien.
Ryan saunters into the room carrying a tablet with all the current information that's been collected on the supposed alien. He eyes Francel from head to toe. They've dressed him in a hospital gown, but his limbs are longer than most humans and it hardly looks adequate.]
You. Are you cold?
[If he's not at least somewhat comfortable during an exam, it might affect his results!]
iyaaa~an
it would be long enough for even the tallest of hyurs, he supposes, but elezen are longer in the torso and the gown was clearly designed to end somewhere around the knee. the length of the sleeves — equally inadequate — doesn't bother francel nearly so much as the distinct feeling that he's not wearing pants. even so, a denial comes out of his mouth before he can help himself:]
No. My homeland is much colder than this.
[he tests his bonds again, but they hold perfectly well; he finds himself wishing, again, that he hadn't thought to try his hand at aetheryte teleportation. he squirms in his chair.]
You — you all keep calling me an "alien." As I have told you, I am not.
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You do know the definition of the word "alien", yes? What planet are you from? What country for that matter?
[He's an alien. Shaking his head, Ryan snaps on a pair of gloves.]
If you want to tell me your name or species, I can refer to you as either.
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I know it... in the verb form to alienate — [no. no. he is not getting into a grammar discussion when he's strapped to a chair.] — never mind.
I am an Elezen, a Wildwood Elezen, from Ishgard. I take it that means nothing to you.
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You are correct; it means nothing to me. For your information, the word "alien" in its noun form simply means "unfamiliar". It can also refer to someone from another country... or world in this case. That is why people have been calling you one.
[He'll find out quickly why Ryan left his abdomen uncovered. He slips his hands in through the side of the gown and starts to palpate his abdomen, wearing a curious expression.]
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[you could have asked, francel means to say, but then ryan is sort of prodding at him and he makes a sound halfway between a yelp and a whine that is vaguely reminiscent of a squeaky chew toy.
it's a good thing that even his feet are strapped to the chair — francel would probably have kicked ryan if it were within his power to do so.]
Wh-What are you doing?!
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I'm examining you. It's what I've been sent here to do.
[He didn't really fight the request, either. Ryan might not have a fetish for odd creatures like Griffith does, but he's still curious! Though so far what he can feel of Francel's torso is disappointing. The musculature is basically identical to a human.]
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Can't I at least get fair warning before you — you — feel me up like a sack of popotoes?!
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Ryan makes a face at Francel's request. He was told that he was good about being handled. What's with the whining?]
Very well. I'm going to feel your back, now.
[Ryan moves around to the back of the chair and opens the panel there for access. His hands slide smoothly over his body, fingers tap-tap-tapping all the way up and down his spine. Sadly for Ryan, his back is just as disappointing.]
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well. as relaxed as one can be when strapped into a chair, anyway.
he's quiet for a little while, and then — in his more dignified lower register — he says:]
...From what I have gathered, the people here are — scholars. You... study things. [a pause.] You're studying me.
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We are. Up until now, you've been in quarantine — we weren't certain if you were carrying any strange diseases from another world. The fluid samples that were taken did show some odd bacteria and the antibodies in your immune system are almost all foreign, but nothing has proven to be pathogenic. You aren't showing any symptoms of illness either, so the quarantine has been called off.
[He strips one glove so that he can input some data on his tablet, watching Francel carefully.]
How exactly did you come to be here? Our equipment indicated it was some sort of teleportation, but if that's the case I can't imagine why you put up with this.
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but then — this unmasked, red-eyed man has at the very least been responsive to his questions, which is more than can be said for the workers in the rubber suits. and more importantly, he needs to go back home. being quarantined for possible diseases seems a reasonable enough explanation for why he's been so abused since his arrival in this world; perhaps, if he's honest, they can somehow get him back to ishgard.]
...It was my first time utilizing teleportation magicks. Normal people typically avoid its use, you see — casting such spells exposes the caster to copious amounts of aether, and overexposure to aether leads to aether sickness. But it was an emergency, and I saw no reason to hold out, so I tried to teleport myself home, and I... I wound up here.
[this doesn't explain why he's putting up with this. right.] I cannot now warp myself back home because this land is nearly devoid of aether.
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He still thinks the entire concept of magic is ridiculous. This elezen must be mistaking science he doesn't understand for magic, surely.]
I see. Well, humanity has had the concept of spell casting since ancient times, but if it ever existed there's no one capable of it now. Aether as you know it very well may not exist here. If it does, I would suspect it's only in areas where nature hasn't been disturbed since that's how the myths tend to go.
[There's the hopeful little carrot to dangle: be good, and maybe we'll take you somewhere where you can cast your magic. Ryan won't say as much explicitly since he's not authorized to allow it, but he does want to plant the idea in Francel's head to keep him from succumbing to despair. A subject that just wants to die is useless. Though there is some merit in letting him die since Ryan prefers corpses... no, he's the only one of his kind they have access to. He can't be squandered frivolously.]
I'm going to examine your arms now. Will you cooperate if I loosen the restraints on one of them?
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[this is muttered to himself more than anything else. will they take him elsewhere to find aether, eventually? francel's hopes aren't high, but the possibility exists, and as long as it does, there's no reason for him to not cooperate.]
I won't try to hit you, if that is your concern. But I doubt you will find aught of interest.
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You're really very human-like. Are there humans where you're from?
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it occurs to him, suddenly, that neither of them know each others' names, but francel doesn't do anything to correct that situation.]
If by "humans" you mean men and women like yourself, of more average stature and possessed of rounded ears... yes. We call them Hyurs, in Eorzea. There are many other races, but Hyurs and Elezen are most common in my native country of Ishgard.
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[How silly —
Wait.
Can't I at least get fair warning before you — you — feel me up like a sack of popotoes?!
The fact that Francel speaks his language. Popotoes. Hyur. Elezen — elves? Then perhaps...]
Tell me if any of these words sound similar to words you know: Cat, dog, sheep, cow, monkey, chicken, lizard, fish.
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I know all of those animals. Though I've never seen a monkey in person — I am told they are wild beasts from the tropics. And we more usually refer to sheep as karakul.
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Of course. Of course! I completely took it for granted that you speak our language, but it makes sense now — I don't think you're from another planet, I think you're from an alternate world. It's no wonder your physiology is so similar. Of course it is!
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Oh. I... am glad to see you so pleased, I think.
[okay, no, he really can't help himself from quipping —]
I... thought this was obvious. Everyone in Eorzea knows that there are other worlds.
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[This is all every bit as exciting as the fact that Francel is an alien. Ryan's practically giddy. Focusing on the examination again is difficult, but he was chosen for this in the first place for his dedication to his work. He forces himself to sit, eyes still sparkling.]
All right, we're almost finished. I'm going to check your legs.
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[in reality, dragons in fact came from another planet, in eorzea, but francel doesn't know that. he glances down at his legs. he would cross them, reflexively, but his ankles are still belted to the chair. from an objective perspective, his legs are more defined than his torso or arms, but again, they're none too different from a human's aside from their length.]
Take your time.
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If there are any differences, they're in your internal organs... and your ears, of course.
[Mentioning his ears should be warning enough. Ryan rolls back up near his face, gently brushing his hair out of the way so that he can begin his examination of the only feature Francel has that's obviously different. He starts with the outer fold, dragging his index finger over the entirety of it to check for any oddities.]
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that relief is short-lived once ryan says that he'll be examining francel's ears. with obvious panic francel grasps for diversionary tactics —]
Er — if it helps, I know that Wildwood Elezen have better eyesight than most Hy — nngh.
[too late. he bites hard on his lip and resolves not to say another godsdamned word.]
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Yes, that would make sense. There are myths about elf sight —
[Was that a moan? Are ears some secret Elezen sex organ? Ryan pauses for just a moment, debating if he should continue this examination or not. In the end he can't resist the appeal of being first and continues, moving on from the outer shell to the largest of the inner folds.]
Are your ears sensitive?
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don't ask me to write starters: the tl;dr
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flashES god /murders my typos
/buries them for you
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