gurabad | 020 » just know that you won't have to do this alone

[francel follows obediently, like some large, silky, and freshly washed golden retriever happily following its master down the street. when they get to the car he'll get in after ryan, though he does ask:]

Hm? I thought we were going to walk?

When we get downtown. There's a parking lot there; we'll save a lot of time if we use it.

[Ryan buckles up. He'll reach over to do it for Francel too if he doesn't follow suit.]

Will you be all right in the car this time?

[...that's a loaded question.]

Er... well, considering this is a more residential area I assume you'll be driving more slowly... but also that we have higher chances of collision with various obstacles...

[he lets ryan buckle his seatbelt.]

...I'll just...

...I will not say a word.

Watch the horizon or the sky if you start to feel nervous. Both will move by more slowly.

[Not that it'll actually be an issue, because as Francel speculated Ryan won't be going so fast in this area of the town. He'll be going roughly the speed a particularly quick chocobo would travel at, which will give the elezen some time to appreciate the lovely scenery of the town... if he doesn't close his eyes.]

[true to his word, francel doesn't say a word. instead, he looks out the window, sometimes with his eyes closed, sometimes (when they're stopped at red lights, which, interestingly enough, he doesn't question) staring out at the quaint little french town and all its lovely buildings.

aside from the still-uncomfortable feeling of being enclosed in a metal chamber, he's quite content; perhaps he's relaxed by the familiar scenery.]

Did you grow up in a town like this?

No. I grew up on another continent entirely. It was more of the Georgian style, not that that would mean anything to you I suppose.

[Good old colonial USA. He actually does like the style since he went to college in the area as well. There are some good memories there, even if there were precious few before then. Ryan pulls into the large parking lot he looked up in the downtown area. For once he's picky about his parking spot and will spend a notable amount of time selecting one close to the first shop on the list.]

You are correct; that means nothing at all.

[like hell francel is gonna know why ryan is driving around in circles — although he kind of understands why the cars are all parked in rows. it's like chocobo stables, isn't it? but he's just happy that they're driving slowly and he can make himself comfortable.

when they settle into a parking space francel will unbuckle his own seat belt.]

...I imagine you would have been a cute child.

[Poor Ryan's already rising to get out of the car when Francel lays that on him. He visibly stiffens before turning to look over his shoulder.]

Why?

[He doesn't just mean what would make him think that, he also wants to know what would make him bother imagining such a thing in the first place.]

[francel is more perplexed by that response than anything else. is this something he shouldn't have commented on? does ryan not like to think about his childhood?]

Well, I was wondering what sort of environment you grew up in... and then I assumed that, because you are a good-looking adult, you must have been an adorable child as well.

...Am I not allowed to dwell upon this subject?

[He's certainly allowed to, but the fact that he wants to is strange to say the least. If nothing else, he supposes he should be glad that his subject is so amiable. Still — he doesn't want him to take too much of an interest in him.]

I'm not the thought police, [he finally answers gruffly, slamming the door shut with a little more force than necessary as he starts to stomp off toward their destination. Francel will follow, and he can just press the key fob to lock the car once he does.]

[he might be kind of dumb in some respects, but even francel can tell when a door's just been slammed on him... and he's not above being annoyed about it. he gets out of the car and shuts his door with equal irritation.]

I had this issue with some of your peers as well. You all must have some very different idea of what constitutes polite conversation.

I'm not trying to be polite, I'm trying to learn enough about your world and how it works to send you home. My past is irrelevant for that purpose.

[Because, as Francel guessed the first time, Ryan doesn't like to talk about it.]

My appearance is even less relevant. If you were just trying to understand me since we're working together I could make some sense of that, but there's no reason to focus on my appearance.

[Or rather, there's only one reason he can think of and wouldn't it just tickle his coworkers pink if Francel actually had a thing for him?]

[francel's gait is much faster on account of the fact that he's not wearing five-inch heels. he catches up to ryan in record time.]

Well, don't you think it's rather unfair for me to tell you all these things about myself and yet learn nothing about you in the process?!

Edited 2016-09-05 23:47 (UTC)

I think it works to your advantage to give me information that may potentially help get you home. If you don't want to tell me about your personal life, that's fine.

[Admittedly he is somewhat curious, but that's just because Francel comes from such a different world! He supposes that might go both ways since the other researchers probably don't try to socialize with him properly... maybe he can answer a few questions.]

...well, I suppose it won't hurt anything. You can ask some questions if you like.

[francel just sighs and walks a bit faster, even though he has no idea where to go.]

Forget it. You're clearly uncomfortable talking about this.

[That slightly faster pace is very difficult for Ryan to keep up with! At least he won't lose him in a crowd. Eventually he has to call out:]

Francel! It's this shop here.

[Oh, his feet are hurting already... this is going to be the worst, he can tell. Please let this store have what they need!]

[he stops short in the middle of his doggedly stubborn ishgardian march down the street, whirling sharp on his heel with the grace of a ballroom dancer, and walking into the store that ryan indicates...

without so much as a word.

francel really doesn't need to be quite so offended by this, but, whatever. apparently it's time to look at rocks.]

[Sadly, this first stop isn't a proper rock shop — it's just a jewelry store. It's difficult to find a place that just carries loose diamonds and sapphires and what have you, so if any of those rocks are the ones they're looking for, they'll have to find out here.

Ryan walks up to the counter, waving to get the attention of the shopkeep. Since his French is abysmal he taps to indicate one of the larger diamonds and simply says "let me see please". Anything more than that is beyond him. The shopkeep is understandably reluctant until he forks over his ID and a shiny platinum credit card, then he's all smiles.]

What about this stone?

[you know what's still working even though he's not in eorzea anymore, ryan? francel's obscenely good eyesight.

and given that he's a fancy noble who's seen more than his fair share of jewels on the necks and ears of pretty women, he's familiar enough with gems that he can tell the difference between precious stones and aetheryte with a simple glance. he's still obedient, so of course he spares the stone that ryan indicates a glance, but his gaze wanders over to the rest of the gems on display quickly enough.]

No, that's an ordinary diamond. A sapphire... a ruby... aquamarine.

[his mouth twitches.]

Most of these are filled with other substances. I suppose they might fool a Hyur or a Roegadyn...

Other substances?

[Is he saying they're fake? If none of them will do, that's a good reason to leave at least.]

Please look over all the displays, if you don't mind. If none of these match, there's another place further out we can look at.

[Maybe the opals? Those look sufficiently magical. He'll be hoping for it. Ryan leans over the case, trying to follow Francel's gaze.]

Yes, I —

[this is a great time for a leggy shop assistant to come out from some back room, brown hair pulled back in a tight bun; she smiles prettily and asks ryan, point-blank, "are you shopping for you or for your partner today, sir?"]

...Oh, er...

[Did the shopkeep call in someone that speaks English with some secret hand gesture? Ryan bristles and colors slightly, posture stiffening. He wants to yell that they aren't partners, but he knows that would just get Francel all offended again. So instead he says:]

We were looking for a gift for my mother. But I'm starting to think she might prefer something a little simpler, so...

[Poor baby, he doesn't realize that still makes it sound like they're dating.]

I — yes, quite. She's a... lovely woman...

[the shop assistant seems to read a little too far into francel's distracted tone. she immediately fixes the tall blond with a sympathetic gaze, rolling her eyes and mouthing something at him confidentially — mother-in-laws — before she straightens herself and immediately adopts a professional tone again.

"well, sir, we have just received a beautiful shipment of silver necklaces with matching earrings, all of french design, of course. they are tailored toward a younger woman but i am certain they will work with the beauty of an older woman as well. if i may...?"

her accent is wonderfully charming, but francel pays it no mind as he passes his eyes over the opal section — and then finally toward a collection of raw gems in one corner of the store.]

...Ryan?

[can't go calling him dr. walker if they're just two guys out to buy a gift for their mom... right...]

I think she might like these.

[Well, Francel's not wrong. She was beautiful — Ryan gets his looks almost exclusively from his mother. Ryan catches that "mother-in-laws" and almost recoils. That's not what she was supposed to think! She was supposed to think he was a normal guy bringing his gay cosplaying friend to pick out the jewelry for him!

Ugh. Whatever. He'll never see any of these people again.

He snaps out of it quickly enough when Francel calls his name. Ryan actually doesn't care much one way or the other what he calls him, so he doesn't protest as he goes over to take a peek.]

Hmm... quartz? Yes, I think you might be right.

[It's overpriced, but he doesn't care. He's paying with the company's card, not his own money. Ryan gestures at the stones.]

I'm not good at this sort of thing. Pick one out, Francel.

["francel?"

the storekeeper's interest seems piqued as she slips past her french-speaking associate to unlock the raw gem cabinet for francel and ryan. while she's doing that, she asks, simply enough that ryan can probably pick it up: you have a french name, don't you speak french?

francel's response is fast enough — and complex enough — that it's probably unintelligible.

the rest of the conversation passes awkwardly enough, with ryan out of the loop. the assistant asks something about francel's english accent; he laughs; he says something; he points to some of the more cylindrical rough gems, the ones that have been partially polished but not truly cut. she obliges.

the stones aren't genuinely raw; they just have a "rough" look. but he doesn't need to carry around actual rough stone; it'll be more convenient if it's at least in a shape he can hold in his hand. he sorts through the ones the girl spreads out on the counter, touching a few of them after he asks for permission. eventually his hands settle on one that looks rather like a crystal shard out of some fantasy movie.

of course.]

I think this one will do, Ryan.

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