Intro Overflow: May

[moustre]

Intro Log: May, Overflow

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[wordsinthesoul]

[Haillenarte ends up being the thing that snags the edge of memory. He hasn't travelled to Coerthas much- perhaps an oversight, but there were duties elsewhere. Still- he believes he remembers the Warrior mentioning him, at least once, and it's enough his smile settles a little more.]

Francel, then. It seems strange that this should be our first proper meeting, but I still find myself glad of it. Would you care to sit with me?

[haillenarte]

[slightly confused by this sudden friendly overture, francel hesitates, as he technically still has a job to do. he compromises — he does not sit down by thancred's table, but he lingers a moment longer, still staring thoughtfully at the man's face, his tattoo.

it's not quite a realization, but in response, he musters the courage to ask:]

— Are you a man of Eorzea, Thancred?

[wordsinthesoul]

[It's a little awkward as Thancred settles himself in the chair- at least, as he sees it. Still, it's workable- even if he realises with a little dismay he may have missed his mark. Still- easily remedied, he thinks.]

Yes- of the Scions. [He's not so sure what Sharlayan would have to do with him- between all of them leaving, and his current state…. But this, he thinks, will help make things clearer.]. My apologies for not stating so earlier. But it is good to see another from Eorzea here. [Even if it should mean strange things for Eorzea.]

[haillenarte]

The Scions! You mean the Scions of the Seventh of Dawn?

[the question is rhetorical — what other scions are there, after all? francel brightens, smiling; he's never really had cause to know the scions of the seventh dawn in particular, but the warrior of light was aligned with them, certainly, and he did have cause to speak very briefly with young master alphinaud and cid when they were in search of their airship.]

Why, that is good news! Well — not wholly, I suppose. But here I'd worried that only Ishgardians had been spirited away to this place.

[wordsinthesoul]

Of course.

[He's not entirely expecting this level of response- though it must be good news, then. If they're still well-regarded- well, he needs to be sure to represent their good name, doesn't he? Though naturally he was anticipating long sessions of research already…]

Well- I feel certain the others will manage in my absence. Well- I can certainly confirm that that is not the case, though it seems we've but a handful of Eorzeans- and many more from other places, from the sound of it.

[haillenarte]

[curious, francel tips his head to one side, as eorzeans are wont to do.]

Is there another Eorzean here? I've met only strangers.

[wordsinthesoul]

They may become friends, in time. [Which is what he hopes in regards to Fordola- though, of course, that's complicated…]

A young lady from Ala Mhigo, brought up under the occupation.

[haillenarte]

[so long as he wishes to maintain a polite veneer, francel cannot honestly respond to that. in truth, he has no desire to make new friends, not after everything has happened, but a woman from ala mhigo is distant enough from him that it will not matter. he nods.]

I see... Ala Mhigo is in Gyr Abania, is it not? East of the Shroud? ...Then we are all far from home.

[he sighs, furrowing his brow.]

Two Elezen from Ishgard, a Scion, an Ala Mhigan — there seems to be no sense in it. Why us, and no others? Something in our aether? I cannot comprehend the logic of this world.

[wordsinthesoul]

[Well- he probably wouldn't advise starting there. But he won't press, at least for now.]

It is indeed. Longer than any had anticipated, I suspect- and I must wonder how it is possible…

[He grimaces a little- with his condition, he can't tell how it would be something in their aether. It may be there's something to it, though.]

That is an answer I would very much like to know myself. I had something of a theory that it might have been due to some danger. Was there any threatening you?

[haillenarte]

I —

[for a moment, francel looks very bemused indeed, as an answer does come to him, but he finds it nearly funny. his reply is both honest and vague:]

There exists no greater danger to me than myself.

[but this tells thancred nothing, he knows. he shakes his head, tries to elaborate more cleanly.]

...At the very least, I know of no attempts upon my life in the weeks before I was taken here.

[wordsinthesoul]

Yourself?

[It's not particularly clear- but enough for Thancred to give Francel a concerned look.

It doesn't seem like the kind of danger he was thinking of, and Thancred frowns, before shaking his head and offering Francel a smile.]

Well, I suppose that's good news, really. But I suppose this means whatever common thread has brought us here is likely something else, then. I suppose- perhaps we might have been called for something here.