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

[hastily:] N-No, that's — that's quite alright. I just — I mean, yes, that goes against all my etiquette lessons but — it does not bother me in the least. I —

[stammering awkwardly, francel dabs at the corner of his mouth with a napkin despite the fact that he doesn't have so much as a crumb on his lip.]

...Pray do not concern yourself.

[He should have just used the napkin, but with how sticky that frosting is Ryan just knows he would have ended up with cotton fibers sticking to his fingers. Despite Francel telling him to not worry about it he still feels a little embarrassed. For the most part Ryan doesn't care about etiquette, but when it comes to cleanliness he cares a lot!]

...well, all right then.

[So he can hurry up and wash his hands he starts to eat quicker.]

Would you say Elezen as a whole are generally responsible? We have old stories about a similar race known as "elves", but in most of them they're somewhat frivolous.

[relief washes over his comparatively large frame as francel pushes the thought of ryan's tongue out of his thoughts. he takes up another biteful of quiche.]

Frivolous? In what way?

[he doesn't wait for ryan to respond as he continues.]

I cannot speak for the Elezen that live in the woodlands of Gridania — I am told that petty infighting between the Duskwight and Wildwood races is still commonplace — but in Ishgard we hold no such prejudices.

There are many lesser nobles of — shall we say — "new money" heritage, and they can be deeply frivolous indeed... but as a whole, I think that my fellow Ishgardian Elezen are deeply responsible, patriotic, and loyal to their own.

I see. Elves in most of Earth's literature are typically preoccupied with appearances to the point of it being detrimental at times. They also have a deep association with nature and tend to be distrustful of outsiders.

[He shrugs, polishing off his quiche.]

Even if there were once elves on Earth that somehow teleported to another world, I don't think popular conception of them would be particularly accurate. Humans in those stories tend to be written as the heroes, after all. They're very biased.

Is that so? Many is the woman in Ishgard who will obsess over her appearance, but that holds true for Hyuran women as well, in my experience...

I suppose I am fond of nature — I have long harbored dreams of going to Gridania to see their famed greenery — but I think that is simply because my family crest bears the rose.

[francel, too, finishes off his quiche.]

And if you are asking about Ishgardian perceptions of Hyurs... they serve every bit as admirably in our armies as my Elezen brethren, and many Hyurs have attained rank and titles of lesser nobility. But the highest positions in Ishgard are filled by Elezen. There is a small minority of Hyurs who point to this as a sign of racial biases, but I disagree. It is merely a reflection of the fact that the Elezen race settled in Ishgard long before the Hyurs.

It's less racism and more nepotism, isn't it? The positions were held by elezen, so naturally they're passed on to elezen when the time comes. So long as people with the requisite talent are at least considered, I don't see a problem.

[Time to get ready to go. Ryan rises from the table.]

Perhaps I'll put some stories with elves on your tablet and you can give me your impressions. I'd be curious to hear if there are similarities.

[He heads into the bathroom to wash his hands and brush his teeth, but he'll leave the door open so he can hear Francel's response.]

[Much to Ryan's relief, the next few days go quite smoothly. Yes, there's a bit of a bump in the road when he takes Francel shopping for clothes and has exactly zero opinions on what he's wearing so long as it fits properly, but things smooth over quickly enough when the salespeople praise him in Ryan's stead as soon as they figure out they can make a big sale.

Armed with experience from their first night, when they pass by a toy store Ryan marches right in and buys Francel a large stuffed rabbit toy. He won't say it's because the ears make him think of him, but it probably goes without saying. Given something to cuddle at night, Francel blessedly leaves Ryan in peace. Though really, it wasn't that awful having him close...

Their visit to the battle site later goes every bit as well as Ryan could have hoped. The site is rich in aether (as far as Earth is concerned at least, so it probably just feels about normal for Francel), and he manages to successfully store some in the crystals that they bought. He's fascinated by the ethereal light it glows with and almost wants to keep it for himself, but since he knows that he won't get any funding or equipment if he doesn't ship it off, Ryan does exactly that. Since he's in a good mood afterwards he even offers to take Francel out again, but the elezen seems curiously subdued.

The next morning, he finds out why. When Ryan awakens just past dawn the sound of Francel's breathing is strangely labored. At first he's horrified that he might be having a dirty dream or something even more embarrassing, but a few extra seconds of observation has him thinking he hears a crackling sound in there. Frowning, he scoots over and leans close to his face.]

Francel?

[he's been feeling ill ever since they visited the battle site.

at first francel thinks it's aether sickness, brought on because his body's grown accustomed to the low-aether environment — but no, it's something else. aether sickness only causes dizziness: it doesn't explain how hot he feels, his shortness of breath.

francel stirs when his name is called, but he doesn't open his eyes; he buries his face in his new stuffed rabbit, breathing shakily. even the prospect of being able to try on his nice new earthling clothes couldn't get him out of bed at this point.]

Mmnnnh. Ryan...? Leave me be.

[A sense of dread slowly creeps its way into him the moment he hears Francel's voice. There's a thick, scratchy sound to it that wouldn't come just from sleep. His mind races as he thinks back to Francel's file. They gave him immune boosters, surely? He's an alien! He's an alien, and Ryan just took him out places with tons of people and gave him a toy that countless little children might have had their sticky fingers over and oh God, he's sick. Swallowing hard he gently pushes the rabbit down enough to expose the elezen's forehead, then he brushes his hair out of the way and leans over to press his own against it.

Yes, he's definitely hot.]

You're ill.

[ryan's hand is deliciously cool. francel presses his forehead against it, more insistently, and presses the rabbit against his mouth.]

Nnngh.

[a very eloquent response.]

...have not been ill... in a long while. I didn't think — [that sentence ends in a cough. not a coughing fit, just a single cough, but the sound is scratchy enough that it's clear there's something quite wrong indeed.]

I didn't think either. I shouldn't have exposed you to so many potential pathogens.

[Cursing under his breath, he pulls away and rises from the bed to retrieve a tissue. He returns immediately and encourages Francel to look up at him by slipping a hand between him and the rabbit and cupping his chin. With his other hand, he holds the tissue out.]

Cough into this. If you can, try to cough up some mucous. I'll need to send it to be analyzed.

[If only he could just take him to the hospital... but no, he can't. He'll have to care for him on his own and pray it's nothing too severe. Ryan starts to make a shopping list in his head. Can he pay one of the hotel staff to go out and get everything he needs for him? He doesn't want to leave long enough to do it, and he wouldn't know where to go besides.]

[francel makes an effort and coughs twice, to no avail; his wheezing is dry and there's no particular mucus caught in his throat at the moment.

he shakes his head and pushes himself up off the bed (though he makes a point to tuck his rabbit into the covers, what an absolute baby).]

I'm going back to sleep...

[or so francel mumbles, to no one in particular. there aren't any beads of sweat rolling down his temple or anything, but the nape of the elezen's long neck is slick with faint moisture. he shuffles over to the bathroom and closes the door. the toilet flushes; the water runs for a good long while.

when francel emerges, he's pressing a wet towel against the back of his neck — but he's so out of it that he forgets about the pair of slippers cozied up against the door, and he promptly trips over them, landing on his knees.]

Oww....

[While it's a relief there's nothing coming up, it's also frustrating. They would be able to get a diagnosis easily if he could make a culture from that! He'll likely just swab the inside of his nose instead, though he does still want to listen to his lungs.

Ryan lets Francel to go the bathroom, going about writing down his extensive list of what he needs to give to room service. He'll have to request someone that speaks English when he calls them up. He's just finishing it up when the elezen emerges and topples over. Alarmed, he rushes out of bed to his side with a hand on his back.]

Are you feeling dizzy? Let's get you back to bed and I'll order some soup.

[He frowns at the slightly damp feeling of his shirt.]

You need to get changed before you rest again.

Not... dizzy. I just... tripped.

[but he certainly seems dizzy when he lifts his head and stares blearily up at ryan for a good few seconds — and then lowers his gaze without any explanation.]

...My apologies. Could you help me up? I have not... I haven't felt this heavy in... so many years...

Of course.

[Probably. He ducks underneath Francel's arm, holding it in place with one hand and wrapping the other around him.]

Ready? Here we go —

[And then Ryan tries to stand. So long as Francel can bear at least half of his own weight, they'll manage just fine.]

[once he's eased onto the bed francel seems to relax a lot more. he snuggles up to his rabbit again — he really likes that thing, doesn't he? — but he doesn't quite cuddle it, in part because his hands are a bit occupied with fumbling at his buttons to try and get his damp shirt off.

he's not doing a very good job of this, though — largely because he's more used to wearing clothes with laces and belts, and he's none too familiar with handling small plastic buttons. a soft whine emerges thickly from his throat.]

...I hate this... feeling useless...

[He won't have to struggle long. As soon as Ryan sits down beside him he leans over to unbutton his shirt for him, looking guilty.]

Don't blame yourself. It's my fault. As I said, I shouldn't have exposed you to danger. I should have insisted you wear a face mask...

[But he was just so irritated to have this job foisted on him in the first place that he didn't go over the paperwork properly and assumed that preparations for Francel's safety would have taken place. He really should have known better. No one else can be trusted. Once he has the shirt fully unbuttoned Ryan runs his fingers down Francel's sternum with a solemn expression, then he leans over and rests his ear against his chest. He doesn't have a stethoscope, so he'll just listen like this.]

[the elezen's heartbeat is... fluttery. can you blame him? for one thing, he's running a terrible fever, and for another, his very pretty hyuran doctor has just undressed him and is now nestled up against his chest. what's a sick gay boy to do?

but even if he weren't attracted to ryan, his breathing would still be ragged and labored from whatever virus is in his system. he closes his eyes and tries to relax, even though ryan's proximity is setting him on edge.]

...I'll be fine... after a few days...

[if this were enough to kill him, his occasional thoughts of suicide would have been a lot easier to deal with.]

You can't know that. Native populations have been devastated by European settlers before because they didn't have any immunity to our illnesses, and that's with people who are from this planet!

[At least it doesn't sound like he's too terribly congested. Ryan urges Francel to sit up so that he can take his shirt off the rest of the way, but he won't let him lie back down. Instead he'll get behind him and press his ear to his back, reaching around to make percussive motions on his chest in an effort to get a better idea of what's going on here.]

Breathe in deeply.

[francel sits up as he's bid, and takes a deep breath when he's prompted — but ryan's prodding makes him quiver with laughter despite himself. don't do that, ryan, it tickles!]

That — that f-feels awfully queer — hahahaha —

[oops, coughing fit.]

My apologies. It's the best way to figure out where in your chest the congestion...

[He's coughing again. Though initially that makes Ryan fret, it's actually very helpful. It doesn't sound all that wet — it mostly sounds like inflammation, and higher in the chest at that. Letting out a sigh of relief, he moves to allow Francel to get comfortable again.

But he will prop up his pillows. Lying flat on his back won't help him breathe.]

It doesn't sound too serious, though I'll still need to take a sample and send it back to the lab just in case. I'm going to get some soup for you to eat. They make cold potato soups, don't they...?

[Cold soup would bring his fever down a bit. After he eats, he'll get him cleaned up and tucked back in.]

...Cold soup sounds delicious.

[despite his obscenely long frame, francel really does look sweet when he's tucked under the covers and propped up on a bunch of pillows like this — like some pretty blond angel that needs taking care of. he smiles weakly; he pulls his fluffy brown rabbit into his lap and strokes its ears.]

I'm... I'm sorry to give you more work, Ryan.

[Hearing that he still has a bit of an appetite is a relief, too. The horrible knot that formed in his stomach upon waking up starts to loosen. Ryan rises, then tries to cover a small smile when he sees him all bundled up like that. Apparently he doesn't entirely lack nurturing instincts if he finds that cute.]

Don't worry about it. As long as you don't die, I don't mind. Observing the illness of another species should be interesting.

[Is that comforting? He's trying to make him comfortable in his own way, don't judge him. He turns to head downstairs, only pausing to put on a robe and slippers. He doesn't really care that his hair is a dreadful mess.]

I already told you, we Elezen are not very different from you Hyurs in that respect...

[he may sound sulky, but francel is smiling, too. the cowlicks sticking up from ryan's head are impressive, to say the least! if not for the fact that his limbs feel like lead, francel would want to comb the good doctor's hair...]

...If you're going out, I pray you return safely.

[perhaps that's a bit too stiff and formal? it's all francel can think to say, though.]

[Don't crush his dreams, Francel! Cough up pink mucous and call it normal or something like that!]

Hmm. Regardless, I'll be counting on you to alert me if your condition becomes more serious. You're more familiar with how your body behaves when you're sick than I am.

[Since he doesn't know how to respond to something like "I pray you return safely", Ryan simply nods and leaves the room. It takes him awhile to get the staff to agree to send someone out to collect everything, but soon enough he'll return with a breakfast tray. They did actually have some emergen-c on hand so he dissolved it into a glass of water, which he's bringing along with the vichyssoise.]

Feeling up to eating, or will I have to feed you?

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you gave me the thirst imagining spoiled dancer Fran anyway

GOOD

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