Listen Like Thieves [Fran]

Tagged : Fran | Words : 600-ish | Notes : IT RETURNS.

”Even the dark corners feel like a lighted stage.”

Balthier’s quip to the Viera beside him came matter-of-factly, his eyes intent on the room before them as he sat with a glass of liquor in his hand and his arm strewn along the back of the booth where the two of them sat. He made a motion with his hand, letting the ice in the glass clink against the sides quietly before he moved the liquid to his lips again. Admittedly, the drink’s preparation and taste showed the mark of a good barmaid – the rather voluptuous young lady with the dark hair that claimed she ran the place, occasionally passing by the doorway of the room wherein the sky pirates were sitting – but Balthier could not help but pick up the hint of a different taste in his drink as it swept across his palate. He lowered the glass down to the table with a silent sigh. Ah, yes, he was being quite picky and perhaps rather childish over his unfamiliarity with this particular pub, but only Fran would have the ability to judge such childishness. He sincerely doubted that she felt any differently from her seat.

They could not have found a better well in which to whet their appetites, though considering most of the bars that Balthier and his partner had come across in Rozarria, the compliment wasn’t any reason for the owner to become too enthused. Still, this particular establishment that they currently sat within had proven the one place that looked to be up to their typical standards. Balthier and the lovely Viera to his side had never been ones to settle on the qualifications of an establishment. For both of them to have parked themselves in a booth for the better part of the night as opposed to escaping through the door at first chance spoke that the aforementioned barmaid did have a grasp on her trade, regardless of Balthier’s pickiness about his drink.

The atmosphere was, despite Balthier’s earlier comment, tolerable as well, though naturally he and Fran tended to keep to themselves on these evening excursions if they could help it. His earlier comment had been born from the continued tendency of the residents of this city to give Fran their undivided attention. One particular younger male at a table across from the sky pirates had been completely enamored by Balthier’s companion and, as Balthier had noticed in studying the youth from the corner of his eye, had barely taken his eyes off of her to speak with the rest of the company at his table. For the first time, Balthier looked the youth square in the face to discourage his awful ability to stare. The Archadian’s eyes slowly slid from the youth’s, once he was sure the youth had seen him returning the stare, over to the exposed midriff of the Viera that the other set of eyes had been trained on. Balthier’s gaze didn’t linger there, rising to Fran’s face with a shake of his head. ”If the typical citizen is any indication, these people would see you drowning in gil if they could only pay to watch you all hours of the day,” the sky pirate disinterestedly commented, looking back at the youth who was starting to get the hint and finally averted his eyes. His tone dropped into one of distaste. Naturally, he couldn’t expect the two of them to walk around day and night with not a single individual taking a long look at Fran and all of her…offerings as a Viera. Balthier did expect them to close their gaping mouths occasionally, however, to keep the flies from entering. ”You would hope their eyes would eventually grow tired.”

His drink was brought to his mouth for another sip, his eyes returning to their neutral position in indifferently scanning the room. The people Balthier could see, Fran could hear twice as well. There must have been some interesting thought or other being expressed in this place. ”Have any thoughts on our evening’s business, Fran?”

light up the sky

My ears are ringing from hearing the same sound

The familiar voice didn’t deter mahogany eyes from their search of the room around them. She heard him of course, but as always, she took a moment to respond, carefully weighing her words. “A lit stage would be a perfect place for the Leading Man.” Fran knew best about Balthier’s…desire – or perhaps slight obsession – about playing the role as the leading man. Despite that, she couldn’t quite help herself when it came to teasing him about it. “Or perhaps I am right and you are more a supporting role.” Long fingers curled around her own glass of potent drink, easing it up to her lips slowly and drinking just as slowly. For a moment she let the liquid settle in her mouth before she swallowed it down to feel the familiar burn. At that moment a slight ruckus burst out across the room, where two humes seemed quite upset over something. Upon closer study – though she held a bland expression on her face – she realized they were fighting over a game of cards. Just as carefully she set the glass back down, her hand making a subtle gesture of annoyance by drumming against the table.

Her senses could be both a blessing and a curse at times.

Along with her own race.

She thought that while observing yet again how the humes seemed to look at her. If she had any less confidence with herself, perhaps it would bother her more. As it was, their looks were nothing more than an annoyance. And an annoyance it was. ‘Tap, tap’, went her fingers softly against the table top while her red eyes flickered to one that was being particularly blatant about his staring. From what she had seen, most of the humes of this place didn’t seem to know what manners were, particularly around her. She’d always received the attention of the opposite sex in such a way, though, and dealt with it as she would any other time – by simply ignoring the eyes and diverting her attention elsewhere. Unless she roughed them up quite a bit, they weren’t going to quit, and so it wasn’t worth the effort that it would take to deter the wandering gaze. Still…while she felt no lack of confidence under the scrutiny of others, Fran didn’t like it either.

A near smile reached her lips when she noticed Balthier’s look that had been given to the youngling, shadowed by the tilt of her face and the subtle change in her lips and nose. Shifting slightly in her seat, Fran lifted her hand to rest under her cheek, her elbow supporting her on the table. “Do not be jealous.” A moment later she flickered her gaze between the two, not feeling the necessity to announce needlessly that she had only been teasing her companion. “I was rather surprised his eyes did not fall from his face.”

Yet again the annoyance of a sharp sound infiltrated her sensitive ears, causing her nose to wrinkle slightly. Eyes once more turned to where a customer had dropped his glass – the shattering what had pierced her ears so readily. At times the setting she found herself in was one that caused extreme irritation, but as was the case with Fran, she kept it mostly to herself. While one conversation was dealing with talk of the civil war, yet another was talking about-… Hmm. Swiveling slightly, Fran fixed her attention on a hume that was talking to a female – obviously in hopes of impressing her. From the conversation she heard, he was telling her about some valuable piece he held in his possession. Balthier’s question was the encouragement she needed to bring it up. Once more turning toward him, Fran took another drink and then set her glass down once more. “The hume sitting ahead four tables is discussing of a valuable piece he hopes to impress the female with. Perhaps worth pursuing.”

Notes: None! Wearing: The normal Setting: Evening at a random bar Tagged: Balthier Words: 698

made by Δ ashy of caution & shine

Tagged : Fran | Words : 800-ish | Notes : IT RETURNS.

A set of Archadian eyes giving nothing but a look shifted, along with a roll of the neck, to the Viera at her words, before the same neck and eyes returned to their previous position, regarding the room impassively. ”Leading men do need their time out of the limelight,” he retorted, blandly, ”especially when the scene shifts.” Both of them knew exactly what he meant without an explanation necessary. While they could both act rather boldly while in the company of people more...aware of their reputations, in this remote part of Rozarria, the two sky pirates were treading on a sheet of shattered glass. No one here had reason to fear nor respect them – yet. Until he and Fran had dipped their feet in the water deeply enough to make a reasonable splash, there was no reason to go diving into the pool. Balthier had all too much experience in making the dive too long before testing the waters; his time as a judge was telling.

But tonight was not the night to converse or even to think on such matters. The less at odds they were with the current powers while they tried to enjoy their drinks, the better. Of course, though, they couldn’t pass their lives without some sort of minor obstacle proving to stand in their way, however tiny it might have been. It was clearly too much to ask to expect Balthier’s own gender to act with some sense of respect, wasn’t it? Even as he discouraged the young man across the room, Balthier knew that those same wide eyes would find their way back over to Fran’s side of the table again before too terribly long. And Fran was clearly not helping the process. Balthier cut his eyes towards her as she leaned onto the table, a faint smirk emerging. ”The day I exhibit jealousy towards prepubescent gawkers is the day I ask that you put the Strahl in the sea with me in it, Fran.” He tipped his glass to toast the truth of his own comment. ”Perhaps you should ask him if he wouldn’t mind you plucking his eyes out the next time he stares so long, then we’ll see if his attention turns.” Naturally, Balthier was exaggerating, but at times, a little exaggeration could go quite a long way to revealing a truth.

He only regarded the shattered glass across the room long enough to acknowledge the fact that it was not only a distraction to him, but a siren to Fran, before eyes shifted away. They both had much more interesting things to hear and see than people who could neither hold onto their drinks nor hold in their drinks. Some poor sod had already soiled the floor with his intake of alcohol. If only they would operate here as they did in the Empire – the inexperienced youths were handed the watered-down liquor and the experienced drinkers received the best and strongest of the drinks. Balthier supposed the Empire did have its strong points.

His eyes searched for the subject of Fran’s words, with Balthier spotting the man almost instantly and studying him closely. Though no reader of silent words by any stretch of the imagination, Balthier attempted to study the fellow’s words and the side of the female’s face for a few moments before shifting his elbow behind Fran and taking another sip of his drink. Tapping lightly on the side of the glass, he curled a lip. ”If he proves as lax in handling his property as he is lax in dressing himself, we could have quite an easy bit of work on our hands to acquire the piece. And if we judge valuation by the lady’s expression, we’re dealing with Rozarria’s most priceless possession.” Of course, if the female valued the man for the way he dressed, her valuation was fairly worthless, was it not? Still, Balthier thought it at least worth their moment’s interest. Anything of worth in their hands, considering their current state after their injuries sustained on the Bahamut and subsequent time laid up in bed, would be well worth its weight in gil.

Letting Fran continue to listen, Balthier’s gaze drew slowly across the side of the room before landing on a rather curious-looking subject at the counter…not that most in Rozarria didn’t choose to make of themselves a veritable walking circus, as it were. However, this one seemed, to a degree, to be some horrible cobbling of the good Captain fon Ronsenburg’s propensity towards oversized blades and Vaan’s almost girlish facial appearance. The former Balthier could judge by the massive weapon that sat beside the young man. The latter only took a glance to the face and strange eruption of hair atop his head. However, what he seemed to lack was any since of social interaction, sitting there rather alone as it seemed to the sky pirate. After a handful of seconds of studying him and a couple of sips of his drink, Balthier quietly tapped his fingers along the top of Fran’s back to draw her attention.

”He's a curious one,” Balthier commented to her, just before the man stood from his seat and seemed ready to exit. With them positioned to watch anyone who entered or exited the main door, Balthier shot Fran a sly gaze before letting his eyes turn to a relatively neutral position somewhere behind the man. ”I trust you’re a popular subject for the city's gossips,” Balthier said aloud, with no one else within range to hear but Fran and the passing man with the oddly oversized blade. Now that Balthier had a decent glimpse of the man, he noticed that the threads he wore were most certainly not of any familiar make, either. He ignored the clothing for the moment, though, nodding to the blade. ”A weapon of such size must serve for more than compensation.”

light up the sky

My ears are ringing from hearing the same sound

Fran's initial response to the words of her companion was that of only subtle movements. Leaning slightly to the side, the Viera allowed her cheek to rest on her open palm. The pressure added slightly to her elbow atop the cool table. Narrowing her eyes nearly to the point of being closed, she studied him through the slits and formulated a real response. "The scenes are ever shifting." Her ear swiveled to catch the remnants of a conversation while she still focused most of her attention on Balthier. Her sensitivity allowed her to do both simultaneously. It was apparent after merely seconds that the conversation wasn't worth continuing to process though, so Fran focused her attention more on Balthier once more. This shift, one she had started to feel but could not quite place currently, was one that had been bothering her. Perhaps it was nothing...but perhaps it was something. She did not like it, not at all.

Ahh, but they were here to forget about the roles they played and merely satisfy their mortal desires. While the drink was pleasant, she would never quite understand Balthier's thinking these sort of places - most of them bars - were places to relax. Had she no alcohol to consume, the sharp sounds and general overpowering sensation of being near others would drive her mad. Yet much could be gained in places such as this - many of their adventures originated from tidbits they picked up from the din of bars.

The twich of her lips that signified amusement tugged at her ever so slightly. With a slight raising of her eyebrow, Fran's lithe fingers raised her glass until her lips touched the rim. With a small effort, she tilted it back until the soothing liquid could again flood slowly into her mouth before making its way down her throat. The familiar burn was comforting. Replacing the glass silently back on the table, her crimson eyes flickered from her companion to the youngling that could not keep his eyes from her for more than a second before they returned. "I could never harm our fickle girl." Her fingertips gently drummed against that same table. "You would be at sea without her." Fran loved the Strahl as almost no other, never could she cause harm to her. Flickering her eyes toward the youngling, Fran caught and held his gaze. She did not once move or shift, and was pleasantly rewarded when he reddened and looked away. "Looks pierce further than blows." With a slight wrinkle of her nose, Fran gently massaged her temple. "Yet blows are much more rewarding."

Her attention was diverted to the conversation her sensitive ears picked up. Crimson eyes narrowed on the man. For a hume, Balthier was adept at spotting things other humes could not, yet he was nowhere near her level. Her eyes searched him, until she noted a slip of paper protruding from the pocket over his left breast. Quickly she scanned and read the lettering that was free from the deeper reaches of his pocket. "The paper scrap protruding from his pocket tell of the worth." She glanced away from the scene and again toward her companion. "What is a sky pirate to do with that information?"

Moments later she was alerted by Balthier of yet another curiosity. Eyes swept along the bar until she could point out the man he must be refering. Furrowing her brows ever so slightly, Fran straightened her spine and started to earnestly search him up and down. Something was off about this hume. His clothing style differed greatly from those around her. Yet it was not his clothing that alerted her the most, but his smell. The closer he came, the further Fran wanted to be from him. A smell powerful - or perhaps foreign - assaulted her nostrils. What was the meaning of this foreign scent? Her nostrils flickered slightly as she took in more of it. Whatever it was, she had no love for it. While she let Balthier do the talking, Fran took a drink of her alcohol in hopes to dampen her keen senses. Oh what a curse her senses could be.

Notes: Fran posts take me forever Wearing: The normal Setting: Evening at a random bar Tagged: Balthier Words: 732

made by Δ ashy of caution & shine

Tagged : Fran | Words :  755 | Notes :  Not a thing. Kind of bland ending.

The faintest of smiles played at the corner of Balthier's lips as Fran mentioned that she would kindly cast him to the sea and allow the Strahl to remain in the skies. As much as Balthier loved the fine ship, he had few doubts that Fran, what with her talents for repair and maintenance, almost possessed a more intimate relationship with the Strahl than he. Fran's most skilled fingers had caressed their girl more times than the sky pirate could count and healed more of her ills than Penelo had healed Vaan during their attempts to impede the ambitions of Vayne Solidor. Perhaps she did value the ship over the partner. "Of that I have no doubt," Balthier finally quipped, once more tipping his glass to the truth of her statement before taking a long sip of the liquid within. Balthier had always hoped that he and his ship would pass from this world together years and years from now, but given Fran's longevity and the state of the ship while she maintained it, she would keep the Strahl to the skies for centuries. Balthier would only take offense if she eventually gave the ship to Vaan.

While dreading the thought of Vaan permanently perched behind the Strahl's controls in spite of his flying talents, Balthier provided Fran's young admirer one final, cold look before the fellow finally diverted his attention for what Balthier hoped to be the rest of the evening. The sky pirate sighed slightly. "The doe-eyed young women of Dalmasca would better serve his propensity for long hours of gazing." Balthier did not intend to stereotype, but Rozarria on its best nights was not the place to search for ladies who appreciated children staring at them. To gawk at most Viera was tantamount to having one's eyes carved from their sockets, and Fran essentially mentioned as much. Balthier cut his eyes to her and hmmed noncommittally, deciding that he would simply enjoy his drink and leave the blows to more barbarous souls.

Balthier wished to expend his energy on other matters, such as the matter of the "valuable piece" belonging to the lovestruck young man. Waiting patiently for an update from Fran should the young man speak any further of the piece, Balthier considered a refresher on his brandy and peered towards the entrance to the room in an attempt to fetch the attention of the aforementioned barmaid, who was fetching plenty of attention herself from a table of young soldiers on the far end of the room. Balthier settled in for a lengthy stay until he garnered her attention, part of it fortunately filled by Fran's announcement that she had discovered yet another interesting tidbit on the expensive piece - that the young man basically wore its worth on his shirt. "No doubt such a paper scrap tells of the item's origin or location, as well," he added, as his minor and possibly obvious contribution. His eyes met with his partner's. "A sky pirate keeps such information close to heart, as it were, in case our young friend should misplace such a valued antiquity."

They would find themselves waiting a time on the young man to depart, and Balthier would wait longer for the still-occupied barmaid, but fortunately they had some manner of distraction to keep them occupied in the form of the individual with the massive blade. Having spoken to him, Balthier remained with his arm thrown over the back of the seat and regarded the man for several seconds with another sip of his drink as the fellow merely...stared in return. Balthier had to wonder if the fellow had understood any of what he'd said, but eventually, the young man finally parted his lips to speak. "Weapons like this are everywhere where I come from." The words came with an obvious bite. Ah, so he had picked up the mocking tone in Balthier's voice. "And if I may ask, where is this place of origin?" Again, the young man paused for several seconds before answering, giving Balthier enough time to peer over at Fran. "Gaia," he spoke, bluntly, before walking past and out of the room.

Balthier was left staring after him in curiosity. He would hate to tell the man, but no place named Gaia darkened the surface of Ivalice. Still, the odd encounter left him wanting for more answers and curious. "His glass of alcohol proved quite talkative," he stated, simply, hoping Fran had some view on the matter herself.

light up the sky

My ears are ringing from hearing the same sound

The talk of the Strahl was one they had many times. Both of them were attached to the airship as parents would have been to a child. Fran had doubts she would ever have an offspring she birthed herself. She had thrown off the conventional life of the wood that most viera remained their entire lives, and with that came the conventional life that she would have had, birthing offspring and assisting her race in their 'growth.' With shunning her own past, Fran had done the same with all of those things. In place stood the Strahl. The viera would be the first to admit that she cared for the airship the same as a mother would care for her own offspring. She defended it from both comments and physical blows. She nurtured it and helped it to grow by repairing and advancing her nearly every day. Balthier not only respected those feelings, but possessed them himself. It would be challenging not to love such a beauty as her. She said nothing in response - it needed none - but offered a slight 'mmm' in response. After that, she lifted the alcohol to her lips and allowed the liquid to once more slip past her palate and burn down her throat.

The sounds that would otherwise assault her senses to the point of agony were held at bay by the strong liquid. Balthier seemed to understand that when she was in a location which was as noisy as this, she needed something that could dull them slightly. Even with the assistance, Fran had reached the point where her brain was in a constant state of being bombarded with piercing things. To their right was a high squeal that on close scrutiny would reveal her eyes narrowing slightly in an effort to combat the sound. Fran shifted her focus to a faraway patron and went about studying him. Nearly all of the leads they obtained while in these situations came from her ability to see and hear things Balthier could not. "Mmm.", she sighed in agreement. "That portion is covered by the material of his clothing. If it is worthwhile, I will have to get close and take it from him.", she finally reasoned. That was not uncommon for her to accomplish, but Fran usually held back until she got the go ahead from her partner. Likely, they would wait until he exited the building and then follow him for a distance. They could develop a bad reputation if they did so in the presence of so many and were found out.

Fran found her senses once more under attack moments later. Her crimson eyes took in the figure, but his smell was like that of something she had never before taken in. In their extensive travels, she rarely, if ever, took in a scent unfamiliar to her. The name was as well, and once he passed on, she said what both of them were thinking. "No such place exists." She couldn't get that scent out of either her mind or her nostrils and resisted the urge to paw at her own nostrils in irritation. It was not only pungent, but smelled of a foreign substance that reminded her slightly of the mist. Some origin that she could not explain, and very offensive to her nose. "I have never before been subjected to a scent like he carried.", she finally spoke. That might seem weird to one that hadn't spent years with her. The frown on her face had intensified, openly showing. "The origin seems close to the mist, as if it is of a magic origin, yet it is different."

She could feel her body reacting to it, whatever it was. Pressing her nails to her forehead, Fran felt the physical pain that came with that and inhaled a deep breath to clear her mind. "It does not seem to be of this world. To my knowledge at least.", she finally admitted. Glancing at Balthier, the viera searched her mind for possible clues. Everything seemed off about the man they had just saw. Nothing about the encounter made sense, and she knew it. He spoke of a place that existed, and radiated of a scent that did not originate of Ivalice.

But what did that mean?

Notes: I don't think I ever feel lack of confidence like I do while writing Fran XD Wearing: The normal Setting: Evening at a random bar Tagged: Balthier Words: 746

made by Δ ashy of caution ; shine