{ just open your eyes }

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

Characters: Zidane thespian_thief, Fran choosingexile
Progress: Incomplete
Summary: Zidane's off to do some more common good and gets an unexpected fringe benefit. So unexpected, in fact, that he's about to cause himself bodily harm. Let the good times roll~
Location: Lindblum → Treno
Date: January 15th, afternoon/evening.
Warnings: None, really. At least. There shouldn't be anything? :D;

After nabbing himself some lunch to go from Bobo's pub, Zidane stocked up on a couple potions and medical supplies just in case and then headed out the Hunter's Gate towards Pinnacle Rocks to where he remembered the gargant tunnels being. Summoning one didn't take long--Zidane knew what the greens the gargants liked to eat like the back of his hand by now, and as soon as he heard the telltale cry of the approaching insect he prepared to make his jump. Once on the buggy, Zidane kicked back and sprawled out on the entire seat on his side, folding his hands behind his head as he watched the weathered rock walls pass him by. He checked his phone once in a while to see if there were any updates from Lindblum, but besides Minister--wait, make that Regent--Artania's post there was nothing.

How little they knew about the light that had flooded over Gaia frustrated Zidane more than he liked to admit, and he imagined if he hadn't come across Fran's network post he'd have gone off hunting Grand Dragons for answers he, deep down, knew no one could give him. But he just couldn't stand not knowing. Dagger was missing, and with her so were Beatrix and Steiner. If Zidane only hadn't left Alexandria when he had--

But then again, with all her knights and Beatrix herself and admittedly even Rusty's skills had shaped up considerably over the years... And besides that, how did one fight against a light? Arg-- It just pissed him off, not being able to do squat but grasp at straws. And Eiko was missing too. Freya wasn't answering his calls, and none of Alexandria's kitchen staff had seen Quina. He couldn't get in touch with Amarant, but that didn't really surprise him so he didn't know if Amarant was missing too or if he was just being himself.

And then there was the whole losing contact to the Outer Continent, Zidane thought to himself as he absently unpacked his lunch and began shoveling it into his mouth. (Gracefully, we might add. Okay, fine, we're lying.) On about his sixth bite he discovered that he was eating some kind of Trick Sparrow stir fry, shrugged to himself, and went right on eating. What'd he been thinking about...? Oh yeah-- He hadn't been able to get a single thing through to Mikoto all day. As soon as he was done with Fran in Treno, he intended to go straight to Qu's Marsh to see if he could hitch a Gargant out there to see if the light had hit there too, and if there'd been any damage. And then go straight back to looking for his girls, of course, but both Eiko and Dagger had entire kingdoms looking for them as it was so they wouldn't miss him for a couple more hours. And Freya, well, Freya would probably be offended that he thought she needed looking after.

Yeah. Everything would be okay.

These thoughts occupied him until the gargant was pulling into the Treno station, and Zidane came to his senses just in time to tumble off the buggy before the gargant was gone again. Dusting himself off, Zidane took a moment to stretch his whole body after being stationary so long, giving a slight yawn. Got here without a single hitch. Not bad, not bad.

Wordlessly, he made his way to the ladder leading up to Dr. Tot's tower, scaling it nimbly as he hummed to himself in a content fashion, determined not to worry too much in front of his new acquaintance. Soon he was at the top, and with a great heave the hatch opened to give Zidane passage to the tower room itself.

"Hey, Fran!" he called out as he folded his arms against the floor of the tower, still halfway on the ladder with only his head poking out through the hatch. He greeted Fran with the friendliest close-eyed grin he could manage, tail swaying enthusiastically behind him. "Help has-- Uh--"

And then Zidane made the mistake of opening his eyes, which immediately went wide when he finally saw Fran.

Who, he might have thought to add at this point had his mind not come to a complete, reeling stop, he had not previously realized was a girl.

Or, uh--

Quite so--

...Fran?

From Zidane's point of view, all he was seeing were legs that seemed to go on forever and creamy, honeyed tan skin. And--

The next thing Zidane knew, he was losing his footing, and with a yelp he fell right back down the way he came. His tail wrapped around the ladder instinctively to stop his fall, but that unfortunately only caused him to swing down and strike his head on a lower rung.

"O-owww..." he whimpered to himself, gloved hand going to rub the sore spot on his head. Luckily, he thought to himself with an internal sigh, his skull was notoriously thick. Still.

'Smooth. So very smooth. At this rate, I'm going to die alone surrounded by Moguta's kids.'

Comments

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Calling her current situation a surprise would be an understatement, but Fran found herself for a lack of better terms. She knew the difference between a dream and reality, but part of her was hoping that she would somehow find herself waking up in the back of the Strahl like always. The ship had a gentle hum when it was running, like the rumble of a pleased kitten in her mind. It was a comfort she could afford and missed, and the airships she had been able to glimpse flying above showed nothing familiar. There was a rustic feel the city, something she could not quite place.

Fran worried for the party, less so for her partner. Balthier could handle himself, she knew, even though she would prefer not to be separated. It was a cold reality in itself that she was still coming to terms with, that imminent separation, but that was different story in itself. It was the younger ones who would flounder the most, she assumed. So Fran kept her ears keen and alert as people passed by, hoping to find some inkling of a comrade. She got more looks than answers, though, even from the strange little communicator that that Moogle had handed to her. (Even the Moogles were odd in this place). For a strange and sudden course of events, this world was quite prepared.

With little to go off of, the Viera took this "Zidane's" advice and wandered through the more shabby parts of town. It was like night and day, the courtyard she had walked through to the huts and stalls squashed next to one another. These sorts of conditions among Humes were not alien to her, but not favored. She had forsaken her heritage, but she was still far removed from the class wars of other beings.

The tower stuck out quite well. With a good sense of caution, Fran made her way through the abandoned observatory, feeling a little more at ease as she ascended the steps towards the top. Pausing, she took a moment to look through one of the pane-less windows. It should have a least been half a day if her sense of time was not knocked off in the new place, and yet the sky had not changed. Moon shining, Fran looked back down to the little lighted screen at her side.

Nothing.

Balthier would have surely said something had he woken up in an equally strange environment. Perhaps he was still in the Stilshrine, the last thing she could remember. She hoped so.

Once at the top, Fran checked the final room, making sure she was alone before unfastening the large bow from her back. Such long-distance weapons were not suitable for small quarters, anyway. With a light sigh, she sat herself down an another open window sill, deciding to take a moment to collect her thoughts and wait. Perhaps the person would show up, perhaps not. Either way, the Gargant tunnel was supposed to be in this tower, was it not? She would investigate.

The large broken globe she was sitting across from caught her interest, held it for a while, and finally prompted her to take a closer look. As she hopped down from the hill sill, a voice came from a hole in the wooden flooring half a level up. Keeping her guard, Fran turned her attention up to watch a cheery blond head pop through.

Quite forthcoming.

Watching said blond head suddenly disappear with a thud, and Fran had a feeling she had no reason to feel threatened. A small shake of her head and she took careful steps over to the ledge, climbing the short ladder quickly. Peering down into the hole, Fran tilted her head to the side with a slight sense of amusement, though her expression remained calm.

"Would you like some assistance?"

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Uh, nope, I'm good--" Zidane managed to answer with a wince as he spent another moment nursing his bumped head before he hopped to his feet. There was a moment of vertigo as the blood rushed up to his head at the sudden change in altitude, but in Zidane's own opinion, the head rush was totally worth the style points jumping to his feet earned him. Grinning sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his head as he looked up at Fran, trying to keep his mind on her face and the thereabouts-areas. He noted with some interest that she seemed to have ears unlike any he'd seen on a person before, and the way she spoke was exactly as exotic as she looked. Her voice made him think of faraway lands, and the way she emphasized her words was addictive almost. Like he could listen to her talk for hours about nothing and not get tired of a word.

He'd missed traveling more than he'd realized.

"Uh, should I come up? Er-- Again? Or do you just want to meet me down here? Well, what I really mean is," Zidane cleared his throat, "are you in a hurry to get to Lindblum? 'cause I know my way around Treno, and I could give you a proper tour, you know."

'What the hell am I doing? The world could be ending again for all I know, and I'm trying to show a girl around town--'

Zidane was kicking himself mentally, but he kept himself smiling for Fran. No matter how it looked or sounded or even felt to him, he knew there was really no harm in trying to make someone suddenly thrust into a new and unfamiliar world feel a little bit welcome.

It was a worthy cause.

He was being a complete idiot about it, but it was still a worthy cause.

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Perhaps not the most graceful creature she had met so far, but he was not quite a Hume, either. The tail was noted, as well as its use, a curious additive and not something she had seen before walking the streets of this city named Treno. Perhaps his origins were similar to hers, not to be seen lest by the few of ones own kind. Assumptions were easy to make, though, and Fran preferred facts to what she supposed. She also had manners, though, and kept such thoughts to herself.

Hand on her hip, she shifted her weight to the side and she looked down the hole, noting the ladder leading to another hidden floor as well. Secret passage ways, perhaps, for it was highly unlikely that the general public knew or used this tiny hole in the floor for a reliable method of transportation. Fran was not above getting her knees dirty to do what she needed. Trudging through sludge, sewer, and grimy dungeon said that much.

"Would I be correct in assuming you are 'Zidane', then?" she asked, carefully pronouncing each syllable in the way she thought his name was to be spoken. It was more of a chide than anything else. "My sense of time is off, it seems." Fran turned, glancing back out towards the window. The moon was still about, not wanting to leave any time soon. But turning her attention back down the hole, her nose picked up a familiar scent.

"There is Mist down there, and yet it does not seep into the streets." An observation. Though Humes did not tend to be very sensitive to it in small doses, none of the beings she had seen so far seemed to notice it at all. "Unless you have heard from anyone by the name of 'Balthier', I am in no hurry."

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Yep, Zidane," came the confirmation as Zidane grasped the nearest rung of the ladder, making the decision then to go back up after all so long as Fran wasn't in a hurry to get to the airship docks. At Fran's mention, Zidane took a cursory glance at his watch, quickly noting the time as he emerged from the hatch. It was getting on after four, which was a little early for dinner but who knew how long Fran had gone without eating after arriving here. Zidane had managed to get lunch in during the gargant ride here, but he was a(n arguably) growing boy and so pretty could always use a bite, so...

"Oh, the Mist? Yeah, it must be denser than air because it settles in the valleys and in caves and tunnels and the like," he explained with a gesture of his hands, pantomiming the dips of the valleys and the cavern walls in question. "And I'm afraid that name doesn't ring a bell, but once we get back to Lindblum I could pass the word around. Hey, are you hungry at all? I could find us a bite somewhere around here if you are." At that, Zidane jabbed his thumb at his own chest rather proudly, the inviting grin playing on his face meant to be encouraging.

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Taking a step back to allow him some room, Fran carefully looked him over. Young, if she could gauge age like she could with Humes, and he had a quality that reminded her of Vaan. Perhaps it was a bit of the naivity she was sensing, but this young man seemed quite a bit more cheerful than the boy she knew. Forced or not - she could not yet tell - it was definitely a change from the looks she had been receiving not long ago. To say she was surprised would be a lie, however, for she doubted there were few if any Viera in this land at all.

"If I am not an inconvenience to you," she said. "You spoke of searching for your friends." That need would surely outweigh those of a stranger. Shifting her weight to the other side, she fingered a small pouch on her hip. It held some money, but it was highly unlikely that would hold here. She may be a Pirate, but it was treasure she stole, not a meal.

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"I don't even know where to look," Zidane admitted honestly enough, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he spoke. "Maybe they're in Treno, even." Zidane wasn't holding his breath, but he allowed himself to humor the possibility. Wouldn't it be nice if life always worked out so easily?

"Won't know 'till I give it a shot, right?" he went on to say, nodding in agreement with himself as silly as that might have looked. He then noticed her hand going to the little pouch he assumed to be some sort of purse and all at once his smile was twice as bright. It'd be rude to let a lady pay for her own dinner after he'd asked her out, after all, and more than that Zidane wasn't even sure what kind of currency she carried on her.

"So what do you like to eat?" he asked energetically, hopping down from the ledge they were on in the direction of the door before turning back to face her again. "And it'll be my treat, okay? I invited you out after all! Nope, not another word about it. I've made up my mind."

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

So she had read that some of the locals had been misplaced as well. As much as she wanted to know the reasons why what happened had happened, her first priority was finding a face she recognized, though she hoped they had not suffered the same fate. Fran did not think it was an aspect of the Stilshrine to transport people to different realms. If anything, the lands around it were more haunting (though the Demon Wall was not something she wanted to fight again any time soon). It still left her with more questions than answers.

"I am sorry," was all she could say, carefully stepping down to the main platform. It was sympathy, not an apology. Losing ones way was difficult enough, to lose those you cared about was even worse. But she was not one to pry, and Zidane seemed like a rather talkative fellow. If he wanted to speak, he surely would without an invitation from her.

She paused when he did, reaching out for the large bow she had left propped against the wall. "A difficult argument to follow," she said with a slight smile. Curious. Giving a shake of her head, Fran fastened the weapon to her back properly, shaking her long hair free from getting stuck to it. "I cannot say I have a preference without knowing what is offered," she said simply, rubbing two of her long-nailed fingers together. "I am used to the food of Humes, if that is your question."

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

Hearing her condolences, Zidane let out a quiet little sigh and smiled appreciatively in her direction, though he didn't offer any more information just yet. Seemed like an awful lot of weight to place on the shoulders of a virtual stranger, that was all. His problems were his problems, and she seemed like she had plenty enough to worry about just being misplaced here the way she was without any knowledge of Gaian customs or anything.

And she was so nice, too. Nice people got taken advantage of around here, Zidane knew. He wasn't about to let that happen to her. Anyone who tried on his watch was liable to get a knife in the back-- Though, judging from that bow she was so casually slinging around, she was no pushover herself.

Zidane, though, he knew the unsavory types inside and out. (Uh, being one himself helped, but that was aside from the point. Tantalus lived by a code, after all.) He'd put a stop to would-be culprits before they even finished thinking the thought.

"...er, what're 'Humes'?" Zidane asked after an awkward pause, scratching the side of his face as he puzzled over her words. "There's lots of different stuff in Treno. You've got all the classy noble stuff, then you've got the street vendor stuff around the card stadium and stuff, and, well, then there's slum food but that's no place for a lady."

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Though the similarities between this world and her own had yet to be discovered fully, she had hope given the supposed common language. For that she was grateful, for being stuck in a foreign land with no way to communicate would truly be the worst of luck. She had fancied the thought that perhaps the forest would lead some comfort, but dismissed the thought as soon as it had appeared. She did not regret her decision any longer, but to hear the Green Word in a different land would be a treat indeed. (If her ears were able to pick it up).

Fran may have not been able to follow his thought process, but Fran had never really worried much for her own safety, no matter how dangerous the circumstances. True, she usually had a comrade at her back, but she began traveling on her own. She was telling herself this would not be any different, though an interlude with a friendly stranger was a welcome change.

"A term not familiar to your tongue?" she asked, musing to herself. "Someone like you, I believe. Though I am not sure how close they may be." Sans tail, of course, but compared to some of the things she had seen walking around, he was one of the closest.

"These great differences I have seen." There was a slight sense of something else in her voice, but it disappeared quickly. Poverty was never something she was fond of, something that had been a great shock when she left The Wood. "Less a lady than your eyes may see. For the sake of keeping peace," she decided, "perhaps something less conspicuous." Meaning she had put off a good number of people before he arrived.

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Put off, huh? Ah, they're probably just jealous," Zidane dismissed with a laugh and a more than slightly playful grin, tail swaying with his amusement as he gestured in the general direction of the waterfront properties of Treno. "Some things money just can't buy, y'know? Bet you the nobles don't like being reminded of that."

And by that, Zidane of course meant Fran's natural, god-given beauty. Zidane still couldn't quite get over the sheer--

Was there another word for it?

--statuesque nature of her body. It was taking everything he had in him not to stare, because that was rude and off-putting and Zidane was trying to put being a hormonal teenager behind him. (That was working out so well, of course. He could swear off thieving next.)

"It's all good though. If you think you'll be okay stomaching it, I'm pretty good with the barkeep in the slums. He'll be happy for the business," Zidane offered. Though by 'happy' he meant 'slightly less rude than usual', but that was just how the 'keep was. It was charming in its own, uh, comforts-of-home sort of way. To Zidane, at any rate.

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

"A more pleasant thought," she said, amused. Jealous was not the first thing that came to mind, for she watched them with a sense of wonder, and she could only assume they were equally curious as to her origins. It had occurred a little later that perhaps it was her mode of dress that was not appropriate for this day, age, and place. So she left the waterfront behind and found the round courtyard before accessing the little device, which proved more useful than her own wanderings for the moment. She could not blame them for not understanding her, just as she could not understand them.

Not all the looks were appreciated, however.

Bars were something she was familiar with. They were often a good source of information for their goals, but Balthier frequented them to suite his own tastes as well. Fran never objected. There was certainly never a dull night, there.

"My palate may not be as delicate as you think," she said with narrowing eyes, though there was a slight curve to her lips. She preferred the natural to the manufactured, and things that grew specifically, but that was her upbringing talking. Fran had spent many years amongst Humes and could stomach a lot more than one would think a rabbit would be able to. With a small incline of the head, she motioned to the long stair way. "Led the way."

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Beg your pardon, then," Zidane piped with a sweeping bow. When he straightened, he motioned for her to follow and then was bounding down the stairs, turning every couple steps to make sure he hadn't somehow lost Fran.

"You remind me a little of one of my friends, actually," he mused to fill the silence as they headed down from the tower. "She's a tough as hell lady too, and she'd've walloped me by now if I was trying to treat her the same as you. The bar it is, then!" Briefly, Zidane's thoughts went to Freya and remembered their reunion all those years ago in Bobo's pub. The only real difference was Freya being a lot less... voluptuous than Fran. But really, it was what was inside that counted, right? And Fran definitely seemed at least as together and self reliant as Freya. Zidane schooled his mind into switching gears, from trying to impress a pretty lady to trying to help out a friend, because it was clear which of the two was more important right now.

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Fran followed with long but careful steps, somehow never losing her balane despite the thing, pointed heels her feet sat on. And yet without them, it was strangely more difficult. She thought him something like a child, the way he was bouncing about and turning around, making sure she was still there. Unless age was different here as well, she doubted he was one. The tail may have been a signal that he was not a Hume at all, or maybe he was just excited to be alive. Some people were like that, enjoying it to the fullest. When your time was short and you were only given one chance, there was no real reason to behave otherwise.

"Oh?" she questioned at the mention of a friend. Zidane seemed a rather social fellow, though she hoped that this friend was not one of the ones he had lost. Fran was not someone to trust easily, and he was still very much a stranger, but it was hard to think ill of someone who was so...bouncy and willing to help. Amusing, in its own way.

With the stairs finally behind them, Fran took a moment to take a careful sweep of their surroundings once outside the tower. Definitely not the cleanliest of places, but she had seen worse, too. She could still catch the faint scent of Mist on the air, but it was thin and fleeting. She was still wary with the thought that the entire continent was covered with a thick blanket of it, or so she assumed by the name, but perhaps altitude played a role as well. That was something she would be sure to ask.

"This city," she began, keeping her pace behind Zidane. "It sits above the Mist, correct?"

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Huh? Oh yeah. Most cities on the Mist Continent are," Zidane answered after a moment's pause, tapping his lips with a finger as he pondered the question. "We'd lived with Mist for so long that by the time it disappeared, we almost didn't know what to do without it. Most of our technology ran on the stuff, and our steam engines were still really experimental. Airships stop flying, cable cars stopped running--it was kind of a mess. We adapted though. But yeah, most of our cities were founded while there was Mist, so as a continent we used the geography to our advantage. The only place with people below the Mist is Burmecia, and they've got constant rain to filter out the Mist's effects."

Spouting off this information in his usual way, that being stream-of-consciousness, Zidane led them in the direction of the bar on autopilot, barely looking where he was going. He almost walked himself into a pole very briefly, but other than that the stroll was uneventful, the only excitement offered by Zidane's ramblings.

"...do you guys have Mist where you come from?" Zidane added as a puzzled afterthought, once he'd run out of information to throw at Fran and the thought occurred to him. She didn't seem to need any explanation about Mist and why it was a bad idea to go out in it, after all.

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

"It is known to us," she said, perhaps in a slight understatement. It often went unnoticed in the larger cities of the Empire, seeping through the broken pavement. The Viera in particular were sensitive to its presence and affect, and therefore it was something she was wary of. However, it took quite a bit to drive her mad. Still, with the descriptions she had heard of the Mist Continent..."But never in Ivalice has it laid so thick."

Fran paused, turning out towards the street. The scent on the air was chilled almost, which meant that it was probably safe enough. It was abundant, but perhaps not as lively as in places like The Feywood.

"It is that way, is it not?" the woman asked, pointing with a long finger in the direction of the far off cliff. Interesting, though, that these people had powered their industry on it. In Ivalice it was a natural element for sure, but not one harnessed. It was then that she glanced up at the building they were in front of, assuming it was their destination.

"Is this the place?"

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Ivalice?" Zidane wasn't surprised that he'd never heard of the place before. This whole people-from-other-worlds thing really wasn't nearly the shock it might've otherwise been, but after the whole ordeal of going to Terra, finding out he was from there, and learning he didn't so much as have real parents, all this people dropping out of the sky stuff was relatively easy to stomach. If life had taught Zidane anything, it was to just roll with the things that were thrown at him and not make any of it even a fraction more complicated than it had to be. Having trekked around the whole world and then some with what was possibly the most diverse group of friends known to Gaia probably didn't hurt any either. From a princess to a knight to a Burmecian to a black mage to a summoner to a Qu--not to mention whatever it was that made Amarant's skin green--Zidane probably wasn't paying nearly enough attention to the fact Fran had bunny ears as he should have.

Ah, well.

"Yeah, this is it--" Zidane ran on ahead to open the door for Fran, giving her another sweeping bow as he motioned her in, making quite a show of being gentlemanly. "After you~"

And then, in complete opposition to the act he'd just put on for Fran, Zidane stood on his tiptoes and called out over her shoulder to the barkeep.

"Hey! 'keep! Can we get some dinner over here? We're starving!"

"Who the hell-- Oh, it's just you. Dammit, Zi--" the barkeep started, glancing up from where he was polishing a glass. Then he caught sight of Fran and the glass rolled out of his hand even as his mouth fell ajar.

"...hey," Zidane called out in protest, waving his arms at the barkeep to snap him out of it. "I know it's prolly been a while since you've seen a girl who isn't your sister, but it's rude to stare."

"You know what? You can starve," the barkeep grumbled, but he dropped his gaze at Zidane's mention.

"Aw, don't be like that..." Zidane pouted, ducking past Fran to go cajole the barkeep into feeding them after all. "C'mon, we go way back and all that."

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Fran just gave a barely noticeable smile to the question of her homeland, but she did not explain. It was clear that it was not of this world, and besides, one could not move forward if they spent their time looking back. Best to figure out the here and now before figuring out how to get back. She gave a bow of thanks, ducking even more slightly so the tips of her ears would not hit the top of the doorway.

Dimly lit, a little shabby, probably cheap. Yes, she had frequented places like this before, though Balthier preferred something a little more upscale, something suitable for a 'Leading Man', as he liked to call himself. Fran shook some of her hair from her shoulder just as Zidane popped up behind her. Red irises followed his gaze to the barkeep, who seemed less than thrilled to see the blond-haired young man (and perhaps a little too shocked to see her). She kept her gaze level, raising a fine brow as they insulted one another back and forth in that strange I hate you but not entirely way.

Men.

Taking a few steps forward, she stood a few feet behind Zidane, hip cocked to the side as she placed her hand on it. "If it's not too much trouble," she began, nodding slightly to the barkeep. "I have just arrived from a long trip. May we take a seat?" Polite was always the way to go, at least at first.

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, yeah, sit wherever," the barkeep grumbled, motioning to the few available seats in the cramped space. "I'll have Tina slap some sandwiches together or something--

"Tina! You hear me? Sandwiches for the lady and the punk!"

"Aw thanks, 'keep. I knew you cared," Zidane called out after the disgruntled man, who dismissed him with some more grumbling and a wave. Their food on the way, Zidane then pulled out a chair for Fran before he swung a chair around for himself. He sat down with his usual amount of poise and grace, straddling the back of the seat with some measure of enthusiasm.

"Now that that's settled," Zidane began as a way of conversation, trying to make small talk so that he was at least halfway decent company. "Anything on your mind? People tell me I'm a good listener."

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

"Thank you," she said with a slight narrowing of the eyes as he called back to the woman who undoubtedly was fortunate enough to work for him. Though in a part of town that was lucky to get any currency rolling in it, that sentiment was probably not far from the truth. Fran nodded in thanks as Zidane pulled a chair out for her, and after unfastening the bow from her back, she sat down.

Her attention turned to the young man now across from her as he spoke, she carefully propping the large weapon up against her chair and the table at the same time. A rather talkative fellow indeed, she mused as she ran her long nails through a lock of her hair. Reclining a bit in the chair and neatly crossing her legs, Fran gave him a small smile.

"That is not a simple question," the woman said, dropping her hand into her lap. "It's a lot to take in at once. Never before have I encountered something such as this. It is unsettling." At the very least. "But I appreciate your hospitality."

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I bet. I guess if nothing else, it's an adventure, huh? It's okay to be unsettled when everything goes crazy on you like this, but don't worry too much, 'kay?" Grinning, Zidane kicked his legs a little and thumped himself on the chest, tilting his chin up confidently. "Because you've got Zidane Tribal on your side, and I won't let anything happen to you on my watch."

That proclamation made, Zidane fell into a brief, thoughtful silence. Then he folded his arms over the back of the chair and leaned his chin against his arms, casting his gaze up at the ceiling. It made him strangely uncomfortable to hear that Fran was unsettled. Not that it wasn't understandable or even surprising, but hearing it in those terms right off her own lips just didn't sit right with Zidane. He was never one to sit by when someone was in need, anyway. There was no way he'd go off and leave Fran alone all by herself on this continent whether she could handle it or not, and this pretty much settled it. Handling wasn't the same as being okay. So like Zidane had said, he could do his searching from pretty much anywhere, so there was no reason why he and Fran couldn't do their searching together.

"Hey, do you wanna hear a story? I've got a good one."

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Thick lashes narrowed around her eyes once again, but this time in a sense of amusement. And adventure it was, though not one she had signed up for. All ind all, she was rather involved with one back in her home world, and that was definitely enough. What bothered her more than waking up in a strange place full of strange smells and even stranger people was the fact that she knew her comrades were far away, their burden on one less pair of shoulders. The Stilshrine was not a place one would wish to stay for a prolonged visit. She only hoped they were all right.

"You offer that freely. Even to a complete stranger?" Naive, perhaps. Nothing seemed to dampen his parade. A sunny outlook was a pleasant way to go through life, but it was not one you could trust indefinitely. Fran much preferred the real, even if reality could be harsh.

But she was not one above throwing your alliances in for a common goal. It had turned out fruitful on many occasions, leading to one of her more prominent relationships, even. But when you had centuries, well, you had time to explore such things. The life of Humes was short. Perhaps that was why some of them preferred to look at things optimistically.

"I doubt I could deter you otherwise," she said, crossing her long arms casually, but she said it with a light air in her voice. "Please."

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"I happen to be a very good judge of character," Zidane defended with something of a pout, though in reality the truth of his statement had yet to be tested. The course of his life had hammered an eternal spring of optimism in the boy, and since his journeys with Dagger and company had begun a little over three, three and a half years ago that optimism had been tested a thousand times over. Each time, Zidane stubbornly endured and each time his determinedly hopeful outlook on life was that much stronger for it. By now, there was simply no stopping it. Zidane's optimism was a force of nature, and he wasn't holding back even in these arguably grim times.

"Since you asked so nicely, though, I'll tell you my story even though you might've just alluded to being one of those shady, dangerous strangers my family always warned me about~" That was a bit of a half truth--Tantalus was, as far as Zidane was concerned, his family. And, well. The group of them were usually the strangers other families warned their kids about, but. Ah well, a point was a point.

"Let's see... Okay, once upon a time there were two mice," Zidane began. "They spent all day in their little burrow under the kitchen cupboard, never venturing out because the owner of the house had a cat. One day, they were watching the house cat sleep like usual when a block of cheese fell down near the cat. Now the mice, see, they didn't get much to eat in their burrow and that cheese was looking real good. So the first mouse said to the second, 'We should go get that cheese.'

"'No way!' replied the second mouse. 'What if the cat wakes up and eats us?'

"'And what he doesn't? Maybe he's real tired. Or maybe he's not sleeping at all. Maybe he's dead. You don't know that he isn't,' argued the first mouse. 'I'm going.' And then he darted out while the second mouse stayed behind. Now what do you think happens...?"

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Perhaps she was a bit too logical, but despite her decades of acquiring knowledge and wisdom as she saw fit, Fran could not make a connection with their conversation to the story he was telling. Not for the life of her. Humes could certainly be curious creatures, that was something she had realized not long after she left the Wood for good. Yet even with all the years she had spent living among them, Fran knew she would never fully understand them. This one was of those cases, though perhaps the ending would let it all make sense.

Her face hardened a bit at his question, giving it thought. She was definitely not one of the most expressive individuals out there, but if you could real the small changes her lips or eyes would make, you could read her emotions relatively well. Few could.

"If nature were to take it's course," Fran said, cautious, "then the first mouse would most likely meet its end if the cat were to wake." But that was obvious. Somehow she doubted that was the ending Zidane would go through the course of telling the story for.

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

Zidane pondered her answer for a moment, glancing up at the ceiling once more before he grinned broadly and looked back over at her, nodding his head in acknowledgment.

"You know what? Probably exactly that. Maybe the first mouse does get eaten by the cat, and maybe he gets away with the cheese. The story doesn't say," he answered without missing a beat, seeming almost proud of this development in their conversation. Mostly people would just say something along the lines of 'I dunno'. He certainly had the first time he'd heard the story all those years ago. "Because the story isn't about the course of nature. It's about choices, because all we do know is that the mouse that stayed in the hole wound up starving to death without doing anything at all.

"See, it doesn't really matter how history remembers the first mouse. Whether he lived or died, whether he was foolish or brave. What matters is that he took a chance and didn't let the 'what ifs' wear him down. He just... went," Zidane pounded his fist against the table for emphasis. "And that's the part that matters. So I'm gonna be friends with you, and if the cat wakes up then that's that. At least I won't ever starve to death."

Zidane paused to give Fran a chance to take the story in, smiling encouragingly at her.

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Well, that was certainly not what she was expecting. Fran's confusion at first was clear by the way her light brows furrowed together, trying to catch the joke in all of this. But he was serious, if not determined in his conviction, and the crease in her forehead smoothed out as he went on explaining. No happy endings, of course, but no guarantee of a sad ending, either. A metaphor, something Balthier would have surely enjoyed twisting his own way if he had been there to listen to it. Blind optimism? But not without some backing, it appeared.

Yes, even after fifty years, Humes could still surprise you.

It was not something unrelatable to Fran, either. It had been that very sentiment of staying where you were, not taking that risk that caused her to forsake her heritage and her people to justify her own means. Some days she missed the wind as it blew between the leaves. Once she had spent hours just listening to the forest speak, but she had always been the more lively of her sisters. Soon the boughs of their forest village could no longer hold her interest. The Humes had a saying that "home was where the heart is". Her heart did not lay there, not at rest. She itched to leave, to experience the world, to "live" - another nuance from Humes - and so she had. He was right, it was better than starving to death, even if that was an outcome that you could depend on.

"Without risk," she began, tilting her head lightly to the side, "life loses it's taste, does it not?" If her profession could say anything about that. The past few years on the Strahl had certainly been some of the most exciting. Fran did not elaborate, however, wanting Zidane to draw his own conclusions.

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

Zidane fell briefly silent once more, giving Fran's words the due consideration they deserved. His smile became more subdued, expression sobering to show her that he took this seriously. Not gravely seriously, but it was genuinely what he believed in and how he saw the world. And, for better or for worse, it was how he lived his life. Through it, he'd gained and he'd lost, he'd done right and he'd done wrong. It wasn't perfect, just like Zidane knew he was far from perfect, but it was the best way he knew how to live.

"Hmm..." he mused aloud, tail thumping dully against a chair leg out of force of habit as he gave serious thought to his next words, trying to string them together in a way that made the most sense. "I don't think it's the risk, per se. More like... The mystery. Like the story I just told you'll never be quite as gripping again, because you already know the end. When you know where something is going, following through on it becomes... going through the motions, y'know? But diving into the unknown'll never stop being thrilling no matter how many times you do it. Change is scary though, I think. For everyone. Not having the future planned too. So the risk is definitely part of it, but I'm someone who chases mystery."

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Now, the thrill of the chase was definitely something she could understand. Though Fran had moved on from grasping for the answers she had sought when she left the Wood, she now believed they came when they would come, through life's experiences. Patience was a virtue in that aspect, something she embodied when compared to other creatures, but less so with her own kind. Viera had plenty of time to ponder life's mysterious, but they generally kept to themselves. No contact with the outside world is the code they lived by, but Fran could not abide by that and hide away her own curiosity. How one could be content spending their entire lives in one place was not something she could understand, but at the same time, part of her wondered if her opinion would have changed had the last fifty years of her life been spent amongst the trees. It was too late, now.

"Thrilling for some, yes," she agreed. "Should the bounty bring you ill fortune, however, you may regret your choices." Much like when she and Balthier went after the Dusk Shard. A wonderful little trinket had it started out, and now they were wrapped up in the political struggle they had so skillfully avoided in all their pirating days. Ironic, in a way.

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"I've got regrets," Zidane admitted quietly, laughing softly to himself as he shrugged his shoulders. His heel was tapping against the floor and he briefly thought back to the adventures his young life had already seen. "But that's part of living, right? Like... Day's day because night's night. We know how to appreciate the good times because we've been through the bad. I wouldn't trade any of my memories for anything. I mean... I wish some things hadn't turned out the way they did, but if I had to do it all over, I'd do it the same. Y'know?"

The cheerful glow Zidane tried to float over to Fran at the end of his words was interrupted by their food being slammed down in front of them. It wasn't too shabby, actually. Some sort of lunch meat, lettuce and tomato that was within the range of edibility, and Fran's plate had an apple while Zidane's very plainly did not. (Still somewhat fresh, probably from Dali. ) They'd also been given water, which Zidane tasted and found to be not at all tepid. Seemed someone was trying to impress Fran. Oh, the things that made the world go 'round.

"Oh, man. I've been talking your ear off, huh? Well never mind me and eat up, yeah? You must be starving!" Grinning, Zidane raised his glass in Fran's direction though he didn't precisely touch his food just yet. Just in case there wasn't enough for Fran to eat, then he'd have something to offer to give her.

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That was something she had to question. Would you do it all the same way? If you wanted excitement from the unknown, would you not do it all differently? To not want to change anything was to be truly content with who you were and where you were. That type of enlightenment was not common. She had been once told that Humes do not have time for regret, life was too short. That may hold some truth, for even as she moved away from her old mistakes, Fran could see the new coming towards her like a storm. She would wait it out like always, she never had a problem with that.

But her real regret, the sweetest regret of all...

...no, that was something she preferred not think of, because Fran did not know if she could ever fully regret it, and yet never fully accept it at the same time.

She did not reply, as the arrival of their food seemed a good distraction for the moment. She had been forced to eat worse before, but this was definitely not a four star restaurant. The woman uncrossed her arms as she sat up more properly, eyes immediately going towards the apple. Oh, the things that grew still had a fond place in her heart. You could take the Viera out of the Wood, but some things never did change.

"I prefer to listen," she said honestly of her generally quiet nature, reaching out for the apple. Noting he did not have one, Fran reached down, pulling a small knife from a concealed strip in the armor on her leg. Bringing it to the lovely round surface, she carefully dug in, quite enjoying the way the juices seemed to pour out of it. Very nice. "Would you like some?" she asked, slicing the blade through and cutting the fruit in half. But before he could answer, she placed it on his plate. He was treating her to dinner and helping her out in a strange situation, that was the least she could do.

"Are you from this Lindblum?"

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Um, thanks!" Zidane chirped with a startled smile that possessed the genuine sort of gratitude and levity only usually found in someone caught completely off-guard by the world. It was a simple gesture, but Zidane hadn't seen it coming and after the couple days he'd had it... put the world back in alignment, somehow. And for a moment, no matter how brief, Zidane felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Being who he was, it wasn't a feeling he came across very often and he cherished it, biting into the apple with great satisfaction.

"I grew up there," he answered once he'd finished chewing, having pondered briefly how he should answer while he was eating. "My boss, Baku, adopted me when I was a kid and raised me there in the theatre district. I was raised on acting and the like, though we're treasure hunters on the side. I didn't come from Lindblum, though. Spent my whole childhood looking for where I came from, so I know what it's like to be a stranger in a place everybody else calls him."

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

She never realized an apple could be such a big thing to someone, but she was just happy to see something familiar. There were similar fruits about Ivalice, and the smell itself hit very close to home. Fran took a careful bite, quite enjoying the crunch and yet how easily it broke into her mouth at the same time. A good apple indeed.

Adopted into a band of theatre thieves? An interesting start to life. She had to wonder, though, how far it was he would go for this pillaging and plundering. For Fran, it was a hobby she had taken up with Balthier, not a life goal (though that was one thing she did not regret doing). While the price on her head only existed because of her partner, Fran thought it was worth it all. Zidane seemed to walk rather freely in the shadier parts of town, though. Perhaps there was no bounty on him.

But spending your life finding your origins? A sad fate in her mind. She had done the opposite, spending hers distancing herself only to wonder if she had been better off never leaving in the first place. But she could understand that struggle, not knowing where you belonged. It was neither one nor the other. Sometimes it was the people that made that for you, not the surroundings.

Fran chewed thoughtfully, swallowing before she spoke. "What kind of treasure?"

[thespian-thief.livejournal.com]

"Oh, all kinds of treasure!" Zidane proclaimed proudly, pounding himself on the chest. (Which he had, we might add, puffed up at the prompt.) Nothing stoked Zidane more than a pretty lady asking Zidane about his many dashing, daring feats. And, well, while Fran hadn't exactly asked for a play-by-play of the more notable points of Zidane's life, her question was open-ended enough that he felt comfortable taking a few liberties.

"Sometimes we dig up rare stuff, y'know?" he explained, making a vague gesture in the air as though to somehow clarify his point. "Other times it's just keeping an eye out for it. Tantalus, though, there's nothing me and my bros love more than a real challenge! You should see the hoops we jump through just to get to your average lapis lazuli! It's not always about the worth of the treasure, except, uh, when we're going hungry but that's another story. The point is, it's all about having what it takes to get whatever you set your eyes on! It's our number one rule, and we live by it. Like this one time, see..."

Zidane went on to describe in loving detail one of Tantalus' more notable heists, one that had them all putting their acting prowess to the test marauding as nobles into an exclusive party in Treno to gain access to a one-of-a-kind set of crystal champagne flutes exported from Clerya before they closed themselves off as a society. It was one of those things they heard about and just weren't able to pass up, and the entire group of them had spend weeks ahead of time planning and fine-tuning the job. Some kids had nostalgia about their mom's home cooked dinners or family gatherings around the holidays, but for Zidane it was this. Sitting around in the hideout with his brothers and the boss, planning their next big job. Feeling like he was part of something, feeling like he belonged.

There was nothing quite like it in the whole world. Zidane should know. He'd seen almost all of it, after all.

[choosingexile.livejournal.com]

Listening with her normal quiet air, Fran tested the quality of the sandwich. No, it was not amazing; plain and simple, but it was food. Her bites were small and almost thoughtful as she watched Zidane recite his past exploits like, well, a man on a stage. And he certainly had some stories to tell. For someone so naive, he had quite a bit under his belt, so to speak. For a group doubling as an acting troupe, she assumed, going undercover was one of their specialties. Balthier preferred simply to be himself, for who else would he want to be? Fran catered to that.

"That is something to be proud of," she said honestly, placing the sandwich down for the moment. A lot of teamwork was involved, too, while she and Balthier were a duo. Though recently their band had expanded to six or seven depending on the situation, she still considered him her partner and no one else. That did not mean she was unkind to the temporary members of their party. No, to some extent she felt a tinge of responsibility being one of the few adults, so to speak, but her loyalty always remained with Balthier and the Strahl.

"Origins are not necessarily what one must call home."