middaeg | Intro Overflow: May

(continued from this thread. )

Ah... forgive me. I suppose my speech was a touch grandiose; I do not mean to imply that the Elezen is superior to the Hyur.

[though there is the matter of the fact that hyur rarely occupy the highest positions in ishgardian society, but, well, it's not impossible! and francel is at least Not Dumb Enough To Mention That. more gently, he offers a new explanation for l's new question:]

I believe, in my world, some naturalists conducted examinations to demonstrate that Wildwood Elezen have, on average, better eyesight and hearing than their Hyuran counterparts — but if the results were disputed, I heard nothing of that. I myself am an Ishgardian Elezen, of Wildwood descent most assuredly, but there could be generational differences.

[curiously, he tips his head to one side.]

I hope this does not bore you overmuch?

Edited 2019-05-12 18:35 (UTC)

Not at all; I didn't take it that way.

[Of course he didn't. Ultimately, L's had it constantly reaffirmed since early childhood that he's superior to most people, regardless of who or what they may be. It's not something that particularly concerns him.]

And I've not heard it before, so it's new to me and not boring... but I find it curious that you're so willing to autobiographically expound to this degree. Most are more reticent, when encountering an interested stranger.

[francel blinks, surprised by this response; he rights his head.]

Is that so? Yet it seems to me that your curiosity is only natural. I assume you ask because you have never seen an Elezen before. Should I withhold knowledge from one who seeks it?

My curiosity is very natural, and also very off-putting, to some. It's useful to know that you don't find it so and are willing to indulge it...

[Whether he comes to regret it is another matter entirely, because L is a "give an inch, take a mile" kind of guy.]

Please, don't withhold knowledge, if it's indeed a choice you're more or less indifferent to.

[francel seems to thiknk the same thing, as he breaks into a slightly bemused smile, raising a single brow.]

Well, now — I reserve my right to keep secrets! But, yes, I suppose you're right — so long as I am more or less indifferent, I am not opposed to providing any answers you may seek. That to me seems... reasonable.

Everyone has secrets; that's to be expected, really. But if it's common knowledge, or you like sharing... I won't be bored.

[Just maybe a little on the nosy side.]

Will you tell me who you are, in your society? Your role, position and responsibilities?

[this is... an interestingly specific and pointed question, but not one that francel is unwilling to answer. after a moment, he nods. it isn't exactly information that he's ever had to keep secret, after all, and in a strange new world, why should it matter to anyone but himself?]

I am Lord Francel de Haillenarte, fourthborn son of House Haillenarte — ours is a noble family tied to the founding of our country. In the world from which I hail, I was in command of a military garrison at a series of fortresses known as Skyfire Locks.

[this makes it all out to sound a bit more grand than it really was, but again... what does it matter to anyone but himself?]

And you? Will you answer the same for me?

[he has no reason to suspect that l might lie about it.]

[Conversely, L is paranoid, even here, even knowing that he's unlikely to run into many people that come from where he does, who have heard of him and his reputation. But he's encountered Misa Amane, and that, alone, is reason to be cautious. Gradually, his brows raise as Francel introduces himself impressively thoroughly. It doesn't seem that he's lying, by all the normal tells that L has relied on over the course of his career.

He nods when it comes time to reciprocate. Cautiously, he has to memorize his own lies, present them as nothing unusual, nothing that anyone would feel reluctant to disclose, further modified to be comprehsible to someone with Francel's frame of reference. He needs a new alias, obviously. He actually was posing as a student at To-Oh University. He could say that he was studying what his profession actually became, since he doubts he can conceal his intelligence from anyone indefinitely, when it's rather his defining trait. ]

My name is Linden Tailor. I was a scholar, and justice was my calling and my passion.

A scholar?

[it's a convincing half-lie, to be sure. at first, francel was mildly bemused, perhaps slightly perturbed, by l's disheveled and shaggy appearance — but, having introduced himself as a scholar, the image of linden tailor instantly establishes itself. this unkempt young man must be the sort of scholar who burns his candles well into the night, sleeping at odd hours of the day, driven by equal parts madness and passion... or so francel concludes.]

What was your field of study? [he mentioned justice.] Common law?

[Clearly, L's choice of words was a good one. While his slovenly appearance can belie his intelligence in, say, a modern and uniform country like Japan where success has a very particular portrait, no one from a world like Francel's would believe that he was, say, a warrior. It tracks in that regard, and has the added bonus of being kind of true. Meaning that as lies go, it's hardly any effort to maintain. Those are the best kinds, in L's extensive experience.

That question is one that he can also answer, skirting close to the truth without giving it away entirely. The construct in his mind, Linden Tailor, wouldn't shy away from talking about this. In fact, wouldn't he be proud of it? Maybe even too proud, given the relative inexperience in the field L wants to convey.]

Criminal law, actually. It always interested me; I think it's the study that most compellingly combines puzzles with human nature. So far, I haven't been proven wrong.

[Time to shift the focus back. While Linden Tailor wouldn't be opposed to speaking about his field of study, he probably shouldn't go on unnecessarily.]

Were you a military commander during wartime, or peace?

[at this explanation, francel's eyes light up with what seems to be recognition; he thinks that he has hit upon it now, that he understands what linden is on about.]

Ah, so you are an aspiring inquisitor!

[with that, apparently, settled in his mind, francel nods in response to l's question, seemingly pleased with himself for making this connection.]

I was afield during wartime, yes. For aeons, my country of Ishgard has fought against the Dravanian Horde — "an army of dragons," I think, is how I might best explain that.

[That same light of recognition is something that L picks up on and mirrors right back at Francel, because it's a connection, something to sink the story into even further. It can become more real this way, more grounded, easier to keep track of the places where it deviates from a life he can't allude to more plainly.]

Yes... that's exactly what you could call it, I suppose.

[He assumes, based on the other young man's demeanor, that the associations are positive. Even better.]

Dragons... was the name metaphorical, or were they truly that?

No, they were true dragons — of the horned and scaled variety.

[that seems to be a common enough thread between the worlds, he's noticed; most everyone he's met seems to know what a dragon is.]

Though that is not to say that they are beasts. Some consider it heresy to speak to a dragon, or acknowledge its words, but many of the most powerful are known to be able to commune with men, and certainly their forces fight with the same intelligence as ours.

[L nods slowly; he doesn't know how to feel about the fact that he can no longer dismiss things like this as unbelievable, considering what he's seen so far here... as well as in those last surreal days back home. If Shinigami were real, and he saw one with his own eyes, who was he to deny the alleged existence of all manner of creatures?

It's better not to think about the uneasy place these feelings dwell. Much better, for now, to focus on the things he can control, the things he can rely on, the logic that he's always been grounded in above all else.]

What is the nature of the conflict between them? Simple prejudice, or is there more...?

[this question, apparently, is one that francel is much less keen on answering. it's not that he's hiding anything so much as that the topic has now become highly debated within ishgard itself — there isn't an easy answer for francel to give linden tailor, and while he has his own opinions, he also knows, in his heart of hearts, that they're probably wrong.

for a moment, he looks noticeable, distinctly pained — but then he bites his lip, and then sets his face again, and the vulnerability is gone.]

...In a word, I suppose one could say that the conflict is merely territorial. But dragons kill our brothers-in-arms, and men kill the brood-brothers of dragons, and... and in this way, all war soon turns to renewed hatred and revenge. It is... unpleasant.

[Like a shift in the breeze, L senses the way Francel struggles with what to say, or how to say it. He prepares to backpedal, even apologize if necessary, but... no, he's going to try.]

I don't think anyone ever describes war as pleasant. A necessary evil, perhaps, and then the dream is of the peace that waits beyond victory.

[Not for L. Not for the fraction of the population he knows exist, who grow bored quickly with peace, and look for a new chessboard to set with restless fingers. But one doesn't just admit to such things, especially in a first conversation.]

It isn't ever really that simple, though. I suppose.

Intro Overflow: May

@hearthebell

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