If you'd like to apply to Snowblind and would like to test the waters first or get a sample set up for your application, this meme is for you! We've even provided some prompts for you to use if you want (but feel free to make up your own). Here's how it works.
✭ Reply to this entry with a character you're considering apping into the game. You can include the name of your character and the fandom in your subject line. ✭ Comment around to others on the meme, whether you're in the game already or not. ✭ Now you have a sample ready for your application! ✭ So go reserve and apply when reservations and applications are open. ✭ Seriously, do it.
Network Prompts
ONE: IT WON'T BE LONG NOW... Well, you made a mistake. You spent too long searching around, or you ran outside near the end of the day for just one more thing, and now you've been locked out. You can search around all you want, but the best shelter you can hope for is pressing against the side of a sealed up building. You do still have your tablet, though. Maybe someone on the network can give you some advice, or at least some comfort while you wait for hypothermia to set in.
TWO: CABIN FEVER Maybe you didn't want that mistake of getting caught outside to happen again, but now you've ended up staying too long in one location, and cabin fever has set in. Maybe you're taking to the network to try and ignore the hallucinations. Maybe you want to tell everyone that you've figured out they're all in on your kidnapping. Maybe you ended up wandering off and now you'd really like to know if anyone can check back in the place you were at for your pants.
Action Prompts
THREE: AN UNEXPECTED MEETING You're going about your business searching what seems like it might be an especially promising house--it's fully intact and there's even a working fireplace with some wood! It looks like someone else has the same idea, though, and you've run into them in the middle of your search. Do you share the potential wealth or try to kick them out? On the other hand, maybe you know who this is, or maybe you're just glad to actually see another person for the first time in ages.
FOUR: GOOD MORGUE-NING You've just woken up in a morgue after dying in one unfortunate way or another. You have no idea where you are beyond that, but your tablet is insisting you can't stay here, so you should probably get out of here pretty quickly. Of course, bringing people back from the dead isn't a perfect science, so you're missing something important to you. Maybe you've lost your voice, maybe you can't remember where you're from, maybe you can't remember where you are right now. It looks like someone else is nearby, though. Maybe they can help you out?
[He knew he shouldn't have gone wandering for as long as he did. However, how was he supposed to know that this would happen? That these godsdamned doors would lock on him, leaving him out in the frigid cold! Sure, the strange device went off about seeking shelter, and he probably should have taken it a bit more seriously, but he had no idea there was some time limit.
Now every building he comes across is locked up tight, and he cannot make any of them budge. No matter how much he pushes, pulls, or kicks (though he doesn't kick too much, he scarcely wishes to scuff his boots, or hurt himself!). He eventually gives up, letting his back rest against the frosty wall of one such building. There's a tightness in his chest—fear—that grips him, and he can feel a familiar sting to his eyes. His jaw is tight, and his mind racing a malm a minute.
He's going to freeze out here, he just knows it. It was bad enough to deal with the eternal winter of Coerthas, but at least he had the comfort of the manor to shield him, or the warmth of mead from the Forgotten Knight in his belly... here there were no such comforts, and it was extremely unfair.
He huddles more into his coat, before deciding to turn to the tablet for comfort—though how much it will offer is dubious at best. Good thing this device isn't too overly complicated, and that he spent a good amount of time messing with it earlier to figure out some basic things, like voice chat!]
If one were to inquire, hypothetically, what you would do in the unlikely event you found yourself locked outside at night, would I find much of an answer? Not that I have done it, ha! I know better than to be that shortsighted.
Though, I can scarce imagine it has not happened before! In the event it has, it certainly would do well to know ere hand such an event might transpire. For future reference, of course, so that I might save an unfortunate soul that has fallen victim to such a lamentable circumstance!
[He's trying his best to keep the fear and worry out of his voice, but there's still a bit of a waver to his words despite his best efforts. Of course, the shivering doesn't help to make him any more convincing, neither.]
3
[Halone be praised!
In all this dreaded cold, snow, and misery he has found himself a promising house. Pressing firmly on the door, he sticks his head in to examine everything: there's a fireplace—with wood—and everything else seems to be in excellent condition! He couldn't be luckier if he tried.
Wasting no time, he waltzes right in, not even questioning why the fireplace has already been lit, or where the wood came from. Surely it's a coincidence, and there's no one else here in the house. Especially not anyone who might have heard the door close audibly behind him.]
See, Emmanellain ol' boy, you've naught to worry about! A little bit of cold won't stop you. This abode has nearly everything—would it had a lovely maiden to keep me company, however...
[Yes... he is talking to himself. But hey, when you're a chatty gossip like him, and you have no one to chat at or gossip with, you have to make due, alright!? He'll be warming himself by the fire, not paying attention to anything else in the meantime. His hands are far too cold for his liking, let alone his entire body.]
[ Well, looks like someone should have asked for a magical portal out of snowhell instead, because WISH GRANTED. The 'maiden' bit, anyway, the loveliness largely depends on a tolerance for glowy tattoos and metal headports and... ugly sweaters worn over weird space outfits...?
Welcome to Norfinbury, where fashion goes to die.
Angel hears the door close and immediately scampers her way back to the doorway. The voice doesn't sound like it belongs to someone she wants to avoid, but she grabs her teeny lil mace spray anyway. Just in case. ]
[The voice startles him, and he might have let out an embarrassing squawk of surprise. Quickly, he turns to face her—eyes wide with fright—before he calms himself. His eyes fall to the mace in her hand, having not a single clue what that could even be, but assumes the way she's holding it might mean it's not friendly.]
N-no one! I--well, I... guess myself. Anyroad, I hadn't known anyone else was here, let alone a—[he gives her a glance over. Her attire is a little odd, but with the climate how it is, he can scarcely blame her! The rest of her is a little strange too, but beggars can hardly be choosers!]—lovely maiden such as yourself!
[He offers her a smile, as charming of one he can offer while still being a little shaken from her sudden intro.]
I am Emmanellain de Fortemps, and who might you be, my lady?
[He really hopes she puts down the mace, not knowing what horrors that small spray bottle could do is rather intimidating...]
[ Well, now she feels vaguely silly. This person is 1) definitely not Handsome Jack, and 2) not really very threatening at all as far as she can tell. Vaguely shamefaced, she puts the mace aside and offers a cautious smile. ]
Sorry. I'm Angel! Did you honestly not know there was someone here? The fire is...
[ She gestures at it vaguely. And awkwardly. Because, you know. It. It's right there. ]
[However, when she brings up the fact that the fire is lit, he stops, looks at the fire and stares for a moment...]
...Yes, that it is.
[Realizing how stupid he just made himself look, he turns back and shrugs, trying to play it smooth.]
I suppose I should have thought of that, but this cold has me frozen to the bone, I suppose my gratefulness for the fire left me bereft of realizing the cause!
[Or maybe he's just lacking in the common sense department, that's far more probable.]
A gratefulness that is owed to you, Lady Angel, for without this fire I might yet still be naught more than an icicle!
[ She turns her head to look over her shoulder to make sure her wings haven't been returned when he mentions the aptness of her name. Nope. THEN WHAT???? SHE DOESN'T GET IT. WOW WEIRD EARS GUY, U CRAY.
She actually brightens up and smiles properly when he mentions the cold, though, because she is a dork and has no idea how weird that makes her look. I MEAN because she now gets to help someone! YAY! ]
Oh! If you're having trouble with the cold, I can help! A friend of mine taught me some things. About how - [what was the term, again?] - um, Tiberius monks keep their as-- their butts from freezing.
[Sorry angel, that was his lame way of trying to low-key flirt. Ignore him, he's a loser.
When she brightens, however, he feels a little more at ease, like he might actually be getting somewhere! I mean, of course he is, he's smooth as ice! Especially when she continues on, and says... what she says. His eyebrows raise a bit as he smiles broadly.]
Can you now, old girl? I do know of a few ways a pair of people can fend off the briskness of winter together—but if you have your own method, I have naught against you showing me.
[Which, he's regrettably getting his hopes up for, because it involves keeping his butt warm, so CLEARLY this is going places. Halone has blessed him, he's sure of it!]
[ And she's removing her backpack. Clearly the first stop to getting naked, right? Like, really super naked.
Except no she's just pulling out a hideously-neon yellow t-shirt that looks at least a size too small for Emmanellain and holding it out towards him like it's made of gold. ]
Here, put this on! The key is layering. Even really thin layers! It really does help to keep you warm.
[He watches with due interest as she removes her backpack. Oh yes, this is going places, places he likes, and places he probably has never been before BUT PLACES ALL THE BLOODY SAME!
What in the name of the Fury is that? He stares at the shirt as if it's some sort of Allagan puzzle that his simple noble brain cannot pick apart even if he spent a thousand summers at the task. His face eventually settles on something far less enthused than it was before, one could only ponder as to why.]
—Oh... Oh, yes! Of course... layering, that—certainly does fight off the cold. H-however, I scarcely wish to pilfer any of your articles from you [at least in this lame way] so perhaps you should keep it, just in case you may need it later! Mayhap the fire and your company will fend off my further freezing!
[That, and he hardly wants to wear that ugly thing, the color is rather unpleasant, and the cold is almost preferable in comparison.]
[Sorry, Emmanellain, Cissnei's not quite sure she's buying that. Not at this hour, when all should be behind closed doors and the notion of opening them even to let another in - assuming they were even close enough - is one planned for enough to ensure it to be impossible.
Still, she'll play along even if she doesn't quite believe him, given that she's awake anyway.]
Well. If it's someone else you're looking to help, I'm not sure there's much you can do. They seem pretty keen on making sure we can't go anywhere once we're in for the night. Guess they'll just have to find the most sheltered place they can and ride it out until the cabins unlock again.
And then, hypothetically of course, try to remember not to make that mistake again.
[She is much too kind playing along with his, quite frankly, super obvious bullshit. However, hearing the voice of an assumedly pretty lady does well to give him succor in his time of need. It does little to fight off the chill of the air, but it does lend itself to a distraction... even if the news she bears is anything but good.]
Ahh... I see. Full pity for any fool who has found h-himself out in this frigid mess, then! I must confess, I saw naught that would lend itself to posing good shelter aside from these houses that the hypothetical man--or woman--in question could use.
Regardless, I am most certain that hearing your lovely voice would do the gods' work at soothing their worries, or at the very least, distract them from their most perilous fate.
[She's no stranger to those sorts of honeyed words and she knows better than to trust that there's anything deeper beneath them. Which doesn't mean she can't keep playing; she's hardly so easily offended that she'll shut him down when he apparently needs the distraction.
For as much as it's likely to help at all. She's not convinced it'll help much. But she knows better than to say as much, too.]
Still, while we're talking hypotheticals, if there's no other shelter, best advice I can give would be to figure out which way any wind is going and hide out on the side of the building that blocks it. And don't keep still for too long, either. You can always sleep when the buildings open again.
There are only two things that may help him in this situation, or rather, distract him: alcohol, or a pretty lady, and he's considering himself lucky enough to find one of those things--even if he can only rely upon a voice, presently.]
Aye, of course. General you, because I certainly have not f-f-found myself in such a situation where I w-would need to personally take heed of such advice, hahahaaa...
[Halone save him....]
A-Anyroad, how about you tell me a bit about yourself, now that we have the basic survival queries answered?
[She's very subtly teasing him, still not calling him out but there's an undercurrent that suggests she knows more than he might want her to.
Still, he's going to need distraction if he really is stuck. Unfortunate that opening up about herself isn't something she finds easy but she can try, if with a little guidance.]
Well, that depends on what you want to know. Can't just let everything slip at once, can I?
[He totally gets that she's teasing him, and not entirely buying that he's not in this situation. However, he appreciates that she isn't calling him out on it, if she did, then he'd actually have to own up to it, and probably freak out more than he is.]
Of course not, but how about anything you are willing to part with, perhaps? Could be anything, I am scarcely picky.
Well, let's start with names at least. I'm Cissnei.
[Something she figures to be all the more necessary when her network ID is simply Black Suit. Might as well stick with what she knows.
Which also factors into why she isn't calling him out on what she knows to be a lie. Denial isn't going to make him any warmer or any safer but if it helps him to keep a calmer mind then she can't deny him that.]
And...let's see. I come from a world called Gaia. There are parts of it that rival this place for weather but I don't tend to spend much time in those places if I can help it.
[She's a city girl and that only gets her so far in a place like this, even accounting for Turk training.]
What an enchanting name. I am Emmanellain de Fortemps, 'tis a pleasure.
[He had wondered about her ID, but he figures maybe it'll make sense in time. His isn't much better, considering he had no idea what it was asking of him when he started messing with the tablet, that it auto picked his own name. Which... gave her a slight advantage, but at least now they are on the same playing field.]
I see... I, myself, hail from Eorzea—though more specifically Ishgard. 'Tis as cold as here—if not more so—but it wasn't always so... though I must confess I hadn't spent much time out in the frigid weather... at least, no more than what was strictly necessary.
[Which means... going to and from the bar, gossiping/shopping around the Jewelerd Crozier, or actually having to fulfill whatever duty his father put on him, which wasn't too often (thank Halone). In essence, he's a huge wimp and probably the worst person to be stuck out in the cold.]
[It's not intended as an insult, merely reflection of the fact that she hasn't really known many people with such elaborate names. Which has more to do with who she knows than anything to do with him, and her tone is careful to reflect that.
She can't help the slight amusement she feels as he mentions his home being as cold as this place, on occasion; even with the fact that he barely went out unless he had to, that he's used to these climates and still locked out is hard for her to get past.
And there comes that teasing tone again, as she replies.]
Is that so? Still, sounds like you're the one who should be giving the rest of us tips on how to handle the weather around here.
You are asking what I would do if I were the one who found myself trapped on the wrong side of an impregnable door? What I would do until the spiders, or spider shaped things, or other creatures came to feast on the meat and bones that would be all that was left of my body?
What I would do...
[His voice is a low croon.]
I would die.
Death is the mandated choice by our mysterious and all powerful administrators, and who are we to argue with their vastly greater knowledge? Their strong suggestions of locked doors and freezing temperatures are so persuasive that nobody has yet managed to resist them. Not that I would try resisting them.
Will you try resisting them? Hypothetically speaking.
[Emmanellain listens intently, but at the end of it, he really wishes he hadn't. Spiders shaped things? Creatures that would feast on his...
O' Halone, give him strength...
There's a good few moments of just silence as he processes this and... tries to think of a reply that wouldn't just be him giving away that such a suggestion actually has him pretty damn terrified. After his incriminating silence, he finally finds means to bolster himself, fluff up the facade to find that he's freaking out.]
Haha! That is quite the suggestion, old boy! Though, I can scarce imagine giving up will help matters at all, seems a little grim for my liking. Even if resistance might yet be futile, it would be a sorry sight if one were to just give in like that, do you not agree?
[He swallows thickly.]
I—I was not aware that such creatures existed here, however. I must confess, I feel sorry for any fool who has gotten himself locked out in this miserable cold with those—those things about.
[Cecil smiles. He feels his heart go pitter-pat in his chest, or perhaps it thuds like a thousand tiny drums beaten by a distant army, or perhaps it is not his heart that he hears at all. But he thinks that it is, and he is fairly sure that it is beating in joy because so much hypothesising reminds him of a certain boyfriend.]
Tell me, are you a scientist?
[His voice is like caramel. Sticky.]
I have never heard so many hypothetical questions come from anyone who is not a scientist, with their amazing ability to release their minds beyond the shallow and constricting confines of their own situation and body.
[His smile widens, the drum beats in his chest get louder and faster like the swelling buzz of hornets.]
Unless you are not a scientist. Unless you hypothetical is actually reality in a thin and tempting disguise.
Ahh--I cannot say I am, but I would be lying if I said that science held no interest to me.
[Interest in the same way the general populace thinks scientific break throughs are neat, then they quickly forget about them. If it's something to talk about, he'll be on it, but that doesn't mean he understands a damn thing about it.
However, with Cecil basically calling him on his bullshitting, he just lets out a slightly nervous laugh, as if it is at all convincing in its dismissal.]
Nay! What a silly thing to presume. Mayhap I just wish to collect some favorable advice ere such a situation ever arise. For myself--or others. One could scarce blame me. I-It most certainly is not happening to me right this instance.
[He sounds like he really means it. He does really mean it.]
I could only wish that I had friends that would think ahead for me so assiduously, so that I could be assured of expert advice already pre-gathered when I found myself in a soon-to-be fatal position.
I hope the advice I gave you will help you to help your very fortunate friend.
Indeed I am, any and all are lucky to befriend me!
[He sounds like he really means what he said as well. Because he does...]
Well, mayhap if we get to know each other a little better, you may be as fortunate enough to be gifted with such a stout friend! Information gathering is a bit of a talent of mine.
[Aka he's a huge gossip and likes gathering ALL THE DETAILS ABOUT ANYTHING OF INTEREST.
...He ignores the part about the advice, however, merely because that was awful advice and who would that actually help?]
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snowblindmemes2015-10-15 02:54 am
Emmanellain de Fortemps | Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward
[He knew he shouldn't have gone wandering for as long as he did. However, how was he supposed to know that this would happen? That these godsdamned doors would lock on him, leaving him out in the frigid cold! Sure, the strange device went off about seeking shelter, and he probably should have taken it a bit more seriously, but he had no idea there was some time limit.
Now every building he comes across is locked up tight, and he cannot make any of them budge. No matter how much he pushes, pulls, or kicks (though he doesn't kick too much, he scarcely wishes to scuff his boots, or hurt himself!). He eventually gives up, letting his back rest against the frosty wall of one such building. There's a tightness in his chest—fear—that grips him, and he can feel a familiar sting to his eyes. His jaw is tight, and his mind racing a malm a minute.
He's going to freeze out here, he just knows it. It was bad enough to deal with the eternal winter of Coerthas, but at least he had the comfort of the manor to shield him, or the warmth of mead from the Forgotten Knight in his belly... here there were no such comforts, and it was extremely unfair.
He huddles more into his coat, before deciding to turn to the tablet for comfort—though how much it will offer is dubious at best. Good thing this device isn't too overly complicated, and that he spent a good amount of time messing with it earlier to figure out some basic things, like voice chat!]
If one were to inquire, hypothetically, what you would do in the unlikely event you found yourself locked outside at night, would I find much of an answer? Not that I have done it, ha! I know better than to be that shortsighted.
Though, I can scarce imagine it has not happened before! In the event it has, it certainly would do well to know ere hand such an event might transpire. For future reference, of course, so that I might save an unfortunate soul that has fallen victim to such a lamentable circumstance!
[He's trying his best to keep the fear and worry out of his voice, but there's still a bit of a waver to his words despite his best efforts. Of course, the shivering doesn't help to make him any more convincing, neither.]
3
[Halone be praised!
In all this dreaded cold, snow, and misery he has found himself a promising house. Pressing firmly on the door, he sticks his head in to examine everything: there's a fireplace—with wood—and everything else seems to be in excellent condition! He couldn't be luckier if he tried.
Wasting no time, he waltzes right in, not even questioning why the fireplace has already been lit, or where the wood came from. Surely it's a coincidence, and there's no one else here in the house. Especially not anyone who might have heard the door close audibly behind him.]
See, Emmanellain ol' boy, you've naught to worry about! A little bit of cold won't stop you. This abode has nearly everything—would it had a lovely maiden to keep me company, however...
[Yes... he is talking to himself. But hey, when you're a chatty gossip like him, and you have no one to chat at or gossip with, you have to make due, alright!? He'll be warming himself by the fire, not paying attention to anything else in the meantime. His hands are far too cold for his liking, let alone his entire body.]
3!
Welcome to Norfinbury, where fashion goes to die.
Angel hears the door close and immediately scampers her way back to the doorway. The voice doesn't sound like it belongs to someone she wants to avoid, but she grabs her teeny lil mace spray anyway. Just in case. ]
Hello? Who are you talking to?
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N-no one! I--well, I... guess myself. Anyroad, I hadn't known anyone else was here, let alone a—[he gives her a glance over. Her attire is a little odd, but with the climate how it is, he can scarcely blame her! The rest of her is a little strange too, but beggars can hardly be choosers!]—lovely maiden such as yourself!
[He offers her a smile, as charming of one he can offer while still being a little shaken from her sudden intro.]
I am Emmanellain de Fortemps, and who might you be, my lady?
[He really hopes she puts down the mace, not knowing what horrors that small spray bottle could do is rather intimidating...]
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[ Well, now she feels vaguely silly. This person is 1) definitely not Handsome Jack, and 2) not really very threatening at all as far as she can tell. Vaguely shamefaced, she puts the mace aside and offers a cautious smile. ]
Sorry. I'm Angel! Did you honestly not know there was someone here? The fire is...
[ She gestures at it vaguely. And awkwardly. Because, you know. It. It's right there. ]
...um, lit.
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[However, when she brings up the fact that the fire is lit, he stops, looks at the fire and stares for a moment...]
...Yes, that it is.
[Realizing how stupid he just made himself look, he turns back and shrugs, trying to play it smooth.]
I suppose I should have thought of that, but this cold has me frozen to the bone, I suppose my gratefulness for the fire left me bereft of realizing the cause!
[Or maybe he's just lacking in the common sense department, that's far more probable.]
A gratefulness that is owed to you, Lady Angel, for without this fire I might yet still be naught more than an icicle!
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[ She turns her head to look over her shoulder to make sure her wings haven't been returned when he mentions the aptness of her name. Nope. THEN WHAT???? SHE DOESN'T GET IT. WOW WEIRD EARS GUY, U CRAY.
She actually brightens up and smiles properly when he mentions the cold, though, because she is a dork and has no idea how weird that makes her look. I MEAN because she now gets to help someone! YAY! ]
Oh! If you're having trouble with the cold, I can help! A friend of mine taught me some things. About how - [what was the term, again?] - um, Tiberius monks keep their as-- their butts from freezing.
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When she brightens, however, he feels a little more at ease, like he might actually be getting somewhere! I mean, of course he is, he's smooth as ice! Especially when she continues on, and says... what she says. His eyebrows raise a bit as he smiles broadly.]
Can you now, old girl? I do know of a few ways a pair of people can fend off the briskness of winter together—but if you have your own method, I have naught against you showing me.
[Which, he's regrettably getting his hopes up for, because it involves keeping his butt warm, so CLEARLY this is going places. Halone has blessed him, he's sure of it!]
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[ And she's removing her backpack. Clearly the first stop to getting naked, right? Like, really super naked.
Except no she's just pulling out a hideously-neon yellow t-shirt that looks at least a size too small for Emmanellain and holding it out towards him like it's made of gold. ]
Here, put this on! The key is layering. Even really thin layers! It really does help to keep you warm.
[ So
she's actually proposing getting, like
anti-naked. UR WELCOME ]
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What in the name of the Fury is that? He stares at the shirt as if it's some sort of Allagan puzzle that his simple noble brain cannot pick apart even if he spent a thousand summers at the task. His face eventually settles on something far less enthused than it was before, one could only ponder as to why.]
—Oh... Oh, yes! Of course... layering, that—certainly does fight off the cold. H-however, I scarcely wish to pilfer any of your articles from you [at least in this lame way] so perhaps you should keep it, just in case you may need it later! Mayhap the fire and your company will fend off my further freezing!
[That, and he hardly wants to wear that ugly thing, the color is rather unpleasant, and the cold is almost preferable in comparison.]
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[ She is so concerned, Tall Ears Fella. IT MUST BE COLD UP THERE IN THE SKY WHERE YOUR HEAD IS. ]
I mean, I suppose the fire might help for now. I don't know how long it'll keep going, though. Since I don't have anything to fuel it further.
[ Except the shirt, but that would be such a waste of a fine-quality garment!! ]
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[Sorry, Emmanellain, Cissnei's not quite sure she's buying that. Not at this hour, when all should be behind closed doors and the notion of opening them even to let another in - assuming they were even close enough - is one planned for enough to ensure it to be impossible.
Still, she'll play along even if she doesn't quite believe him, given that she's awake anyway.]
Well. If it's someone else you're looking to help, I'm not sure there's much you can do. They seem pretty keen on making sure we can't go anywhere once we're in for the night. Guess they'll just have to find the most sheltered place they can and ride it out until the cabins unlock again.
And then, hypothetically of course, try to remember not to make that mistake again.
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Ahh... I see. Full pity for any fool who has found h-himself out in this frigid mess, then! I must confess, I saw naught that would lend itself to posing good shelter aside from these houses that the hypothetical man--or woman--in question could use.
Regardless, I am most certain that hearing your lovely voice would do the gods' work at soothing their worries, or at the very least, distract them from their most perilous fate.
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[She's no stranger to those sorts of honeyed words and she knows better than to trust that there's anything deeper beneath them. Which doesn't mean she can't keep playing; she's hardly so easily offended that she'll shut him down when he apparently needs the distraction.
For as much as it's likely to help at all. She's not convinced it'll help much. But she knows better than to say as much, too.]
Still, while we're talking hypotheticals, if there's no other shelter, best advice I can give would be to figure out which way any wind is going and hide out on the side of the building that blocks it. And don't keep still for too long, either. You can always sleep when the buildings open again.
General you, of course.
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[And so, too, does his inflated ego, it seems.
There are only two things that may help him in this situation, or rather, distract him: alcohol, or a pretty lady, and he's considering himself lucky enough to find one of those things--even if he can only rely upon a voice, presently.]
Aye, of course. General you, because I certainly have not f-f-found myself in such a situation where I w-would need to personally take heed of such advice, hahahaaa...
[Halone save him....]
A-Anyroad, how about you tell me a bit about yourself, now that we have the basic survival queries answered?
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[She's very subtly teasing him, still not calling him out but there's an undercurrent that suggests she knows more than he might want her to.
Still, he's going to need distraction if he really is stuck. Unfortunate that opening up about herself isn't something she finds easy but she can try, if with a little guidance.]
Well, that depends on what you want to know. Can't just let everything slip at once, can I?
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[He totally gets that she's teasing him, and not entirely buying that he's not in this situation. However, he appreciates that she isn't calling him out on it, if she did, then he'd actually have to own up to it, and probably freak out more than he is.]
Of course not, but how about anything you are willing to part with, perhaps? Could be anything, I am scarcely picky.
[Especially in a time like this...]
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[Something she figures to be all the more necessary when her network ID is simply Black Suit. Might as well stick with what she knows.
Which also factors into why she isn't calling him out on what she knows to be a lie. Denial isn't going to make him any warmer or any safer but if it helps him to keep a calmer mind then she can't deny him that.]
And...let's see. I come from a world called Gaia. There are parts of it that rival this place for weather but I don't tend to spend much time in those places if I can help it.
[She's a city girl and that only gets her so far in a place like this, even accounting for Turk training.]
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[He had wondered about her ID, but he figures maybe it'll make sense in time. His isn't much better, considering he had no idea what it was asking of him when he started messing with the tablet, that it auto picked his own name. Which... gave her a slight advantage, but at least now they are on the same playing field.]
I see... I, myself, hail from Eorzea—though more specifically Ishgard. 'Tis as cold as here—if not more so—but it wasn't always so... though I must confess I hadn't spent much time out in the frigid weather... at least, no more than what was strictly necessary.
[Which means... going to and from the bar, gossiping/shopping around the Jewelerd Crozier, or actually having to fulfill whatever duty his father put on him, which wasn't too often (thank Halone). In essence, he's a huge wimp and probably the worst person to be stuck out in the cold.]
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[It's not intended as an insult, merely reflection of the fact that she hasn't really known many people with such elaborate names. Which has more to do with who she knows than anything to do with him, and her tone is careful to reflect that.
She can't help the slight amusement she feels as he mentions his home being as cold as this place, on occasion; even with the fact that he barely went out unless he had to, that he's used to these climates and still locked out is hard for her to get past.
And there comes that teasing tone again, as she replies.]
Is that so? Still, sounds like you're the one who should be giving the rest of us tips on how to handle the weather around here.
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What I would do...
[His voice is a low croon.]
I would die.
Death is the mandated choice by our mysterious and all powerful administrators, and who are we to argue with their vastly greater knowledge? Their strong suggestions of locked doors and freezing temperatures are so persuasive that nobody has yet managed to resist them. Not that I would try resisting them.
Will you try resisting them? Hypothetically speaking.
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O' Halone, give him strength...
There's a good few moments of just silence as he processes this and... tries to think of a reply that wouldn't just be him giving away that such a suggestion actually has him pretty damn terrified. After his incriminating silence, he finally finds means to bolster himself, fluff up the facade to find that he's freaking out.]
Haha! That is quite the suggestion, old boy! Though, I can scarce imagine giving up will help matters at all, seems a little grim for my liking. Even if resistance might yet be futile, it would be a sorry sight if one were to just give in like that, do you not agree?
[He swallows thickly.]
I—I was not aware that such creatures existed here, however. I must confess, I feel sorry for any fool who has gotten himself locked out in this miserable cold with those—those things about.
Hypothetically speaking, of course.
[Halone save his pathetic soul.]
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Tell me, are you a scientist?
[His voice is like caramel. Sticky.]
I have never heard so many hypothetical questions come from anyone who is not a scientist, with their amazing ability to release their minds beyond the shallow and constricting confines of their own situation and body.
[His smile widens, the drum beats in his chest get louder and faster like the swelling buzz of hornets.]
Unless you are not a scientist. Unless you hypothetical is actually reality in a thin and tempting disguise.
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[Interest in the same way the general populace thinks scientific break throughs are neat, then they quickly forget about them. If it's something to talk about, he'll be on it, but that doesn't mean he understands a damn thing about it.
However, with Cecil basically calling him on his bullshitting, he just lets out a slightly nervous laugh, as if it is at all convincing in its dismissal.]
Nay! What a silly thing to presume. Mayhap I just wish to collect some favorable advice ere such a situation ever arise. For myself--or others. One could scarce blame me. I-It most certainly is not happening to me right this instance.
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[He sounds like he really means it. He does really mean it.]
I could only wish that I had friends that would think ahead for me so assiduously, so that I could be assured of expert advice already pre-gathered when I found myself in a soon-to-be fatal position.
I hope the advice I gave you will help you to help your very fortunate friend.
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[He sounds like he really means what he said as well. Because he does...]
Well, mayhap if we get to know each other a little better, you may be as fortunate enough to be gifted with such a stout friend! Information gathering is a bit of a talent of mine.
[Aka he's a huge gossip and likes gathering ALL THE DETAILS ABOUT ANYTHING OF INTEREST.
...He ignores the part about the advice, however, merely because that was awful advice and who would that actually help?]