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: DRUG PUSHING What luck! You've found a bottle of medication...only, oh, it looks like it's a prescription for one of the other people trapped here with you. You have a lot of power in your hands now: you could do the right thing and give it back without a fight, demand a worthy trade to see how badly they want it, or auction it off to the highest bidder. They're not the only ones who could use a painkiller or an antidepressant, after all. If you don't need it for yourself, you're sure to be able to fetch a high price (or bank some high gratitude points) for it from someone.
TWO: CHECK YOUR RECEIPTS After a long day of traveling, you reach into your bag to scrounge up some dinner but you find that all of your food has gone bad. Everything, including the rations you stocked up on just yesterday, is covered in a thick layer of mold. Even the packaged nonperishables are somehow spoiled. Your whole backpack reeks of rot, and nothing edible has been spared. Maybe you can restock tomorrow, but what if you're not the only one whose food has been tainted? And what about the meal you had for lunch just hours ago? Your stomach turns. You'd better take to the network to get to the bottom of this
Action Prompts
THREE: WRITING ON THE WALL You've just settled into a building for the night with your traveling companion when you notice a message left somewhere on one of the walls. It's signed by a username you don't recall ever seeing before. It tells you discoveries and facts about the town you don't think are really real or should be followed. Tells you that they're heading in a direction they're convinced has the exit, and urge you to follow their lead. One of you thinks it's worth consideration. After all, why would anyone leave a message like this if they didn't mean it? But there are risks involved in chasing the assertions. Do you have the resources left to try?
FOUR: CORPSE PARTY Just before lockdown, you and your traveling companion are about to seek shelter in the nearest building when you spot a huddled figure nearly buried in the snow. When you get a little closer, you see that it's a person wrapped tightly in a blanket. Neither of you recognizes them, but you can't be sure; the blanket covers their face. They seem to have succumbed to the elements, but it looks like they're still breathing! You manage to drag them into the building with you with seconds to spare. Good job, you've saved somebody's life! But, as you pull apart the blankets to check on your new companion, you realize that they're not a "somebody" at all... And you're locked in with it until morning.
[The wait is excruciating, or so he would have one believe. In all honestly, he's not actually starving, he had a pretty filling breakfast, but when it comes to hunger or food he's a bit of a drama queen.]
I thank you—[He squints at the name]—Joacin?
I will make haste and hope I may find you, at the very least I will be far closerrr... and should I not succumb to starrrvation, perhaps we can enjoy each others company over brrreakfast!
[He scans the area to get a sense of direction, viewing the map as well, and before long he's heading off as made apparent by the moving background behind him.]
If you would be so kind to forgive me my greediness in asking for you to indulge me once more, I would like to know of the man—or woman—so grrracious enough to offerrr part of their rations to a complete strrranger.
I do suppose such titles mean nothing here, but all the same, they mean something to the individual.
[Like, how he was the military tactician of the Windurstian army! Sure, he's not it now, here or back in Vana'diel, but it's still a faucet of himself.]
Frrrancel it is, then! Howeverrr, I am unfamiliar with what an Elezen is, though it bears a slight rrresemblance to Elvaan to which I am familiar.
[lehko wouldn't know it, but the distinctly catlike purr on frrrancel makes the young elezen smile; he endeavors to sound a bit warmer in his replies.]
...Perhaps merely a different word for the right people. I would identify myself as an Elezen — but I am aware that many in this town refer to us merely as Elves. ...Elvaan seems almost a mix between the two words. A race tall of stature and long of ear, correct?
I thought, when I first saw you, that you were — what I would call — a Miqo'te, but if you are not of my world and I am not of yours, that cannot be quite right.
Ah! Quite rrright. They are a tall, rrregal sort, sporting long pointed ears as you have stated. Perrrhaps our worlds are not so different.
[Miqo'te, however, is a new one, and he tilts his head a little curiously.]
Miqo'te is not what my kind calls ourselves, we are Mithra. 'Twould seem the names bear only the slightest of rrresemblance, as odd as it is. How familiar are you with the Miqo'te of your world?
[He's... curious if their appearance is all they share, if maybe the societal structure is different. If it were, that'd be a nice change of pace.]
I'm afraid I have little experience dealing with Miqo'te, save for those precious few that leave their tribes to become sellswords and adventurers... they are
[a pause —]
I find that most would take offense to the word "catlike," but I fear myself at a loss to describe them otherwise. They have feline ears and tails, like your own... Though, their facial features are rather more Hyuran than yours (pray do not take offense.) I know little of their culture save that there are two tribes, of a sort, the Keepers of the Moon and the Seekers of the Sun, but I see Seekers more often than not, and I have heard something to the effect that Seeker females congregate around one male — crass and wishful thinking on part of adventurers, mostly; the dream of being the one man in a sea of women is a thought that men seem to entertain until they find themselves living it.
[the messages come haltingly, almost like the writer in question is stammering.]
Worry not, our rrresemblance to felines is not lost to us Mithra. Though, I must admit that such physical differences are strrrange, if not interesting. I assume "hyurans" are your humes?
[It's interesting to read, that there's two tribes of sorts. For the Mithra, there are many tribes, but all answer to the High Matriarch of Gha Naboh. For her will is law to the Mithra, even if it might be cruel, or otherwise unjust.]
Seems as though Miqo'te and Mithra differrr in slight rrregards to culture. If the rumors hold to the proof about one male to many females, that is. Less so because of some bizarre fantasy, than an absolute necessity. Males are in short supply for our race, and as such we are given a very base purrrpose.
I know not why one would ever wish to have women in such numberrrs flock to them. I would sooner suspect them a masochist, than not.
[He's had women play tug of war with his arms while yelling at the other, brawl over him, and even throw a spear at him as he ran away. He's not very warm to the idea of being in a sea of women if he can help it.]
If by Humes you mean that shorter race that populates much of this town — yes, in Eorzea we call them Hyurs. In all my life, I think I have seen some two Miqo'te men, if even that... I admit, the thought of such "base purpose" appeals very little to me as well. But alas, it is not my place to speak for other men.
[not that francel would know what it's like to have women fight over him — or, indeed, to have anybody compete for his attentions at all — but the thought of having to take a wife and continue the family line weighs on him more than he would like, some days, and though it is not the most unappealing future to lie in store for him, francel would much rather think of other things to do with his time.
but anyway, he makes the bland observation:]
...The snows fall heavily, this eve. Are you sure you will be alright?
Yes, indeed I meant them. It's passing strrrange the similarities and differences of our worlds, but somewhat comforting in an odd way.
[It makes the two worlds not so... alien, and easier to understand he supposes.]
I know some Mithran men who have come to accept such a fate, who are content to enterrrtain the thought as if it were their choice, as if it were some honor. Not I.
[With the observation, he does give a cursory glance. The snow has indeed picked up, and the cold is starting to wear on him ever so much...
He offers Francel a reassuring smile.]
I am a well trrraveled man, and the snow is no strrranger. I should be fine for now—but I must be realistic as well: I will rrretire in the next shelter I come across. I can ill afford to succumb to my hungerrr in the middle of a blizzard, afterrr all.
[If the weather wasn't so dire, he might put on a show and try to get the other man to pity him enough to bring him the food, but alas... he doesn't have such a luxury.]
[the words are as neutral as ever, but there is a hint of judgment to francel's following question:]
Did you not eat this morning...? Breakfast is more than enough for an Ishgardian knight, when rations are in short supply... ...Or must Mithra eat more frequently than other races?
[another pause.]
Come to think of it, I gave you my name, and neglected to ask for yours. Surely it cannot be Cait Sith.
I did, but we Mithra tend to burrrn through energy pretty quickly!
[That's a fat lie, he just likes to eat...]
We're an energetic sort, prone to exerrrting ourselves at times.
[He has not even gotten close to exerting himself at all.]
—oh, please forgive me, I should have offerrred my name! I am Lehko Habhoka, it's a great pleasure to meet you, Frrrancel, even if only over this peculiar network.
[francel finds lehko's claims dubious at best, but it seems better to move on than to shame a stranger about his eating habits. even if said stranger might just be a wasteful glutton.]
A pleasure to meet you, Lehko Habhoka. As I said earlier, my name is Francel — Lord Joacin Charlemend Francel de Haillenarte, fourthborn son of House Haillenarte, and leader of the garrison at Skyfire Locks.
None of which means anything to you, I am sure, but as you said — it means something to the individual.
[He is absolutely a wasteful glutton, not that he'd outright admit to it.
That's... certainly a name worthy of nobility. Reminds him of the Elvaan of San d'Oria, with their elegant, if a bit unwieldy names.]
Ah—forgive me once more, Lord Frrrancel. Had not a clue I was speaking with nobility, or else my mannerrrs would have been far more suitably tailored.
While a lord I am not, I am the former tactical advisor of the Windurstian army, and for a brrrief time, I serrrved as the acting commander of such. I have since stepped down from such duties, however.
Worry not. I expect little ceremony here. The majority of our "fellow residents," as you put it, hail from lands where few afford respect to the nobility.
I have not heard of this Windurstian army — but neither have you heard of Ishgard, I suppose. What evil forces did you battle against? What happened, that you would step down?
Even if otherrrs have set your expectations so low, little do I wish to join them. Whetherrr here or there, a lord is worthy of his title, and of the afforded respect it deserrrves.
You have the right of it. Ishgard is as foreign to me as Windurst is to you.
[That's a doozy of a question, but he doesn't have any problems answering it, even if it will take a little explaining.]
We were fighting in a war which had been dubbed The Crystal War. Against the forces of the Shadow Lord--an uninspiring monikerrr I admit, but where he lacked crrreativity, he made up for in cruelty and powerrr.
He was able to unite the beastmen under his rule, and combined with his legion of demons, all four nations were laid underrr siege. Nevertheless, with no short supply of casualties, we were able to rrrepel their onslaught throughout the war, and cripple his army.
[He pauses a moment as he looks away from the tablet to assess where he was for a moment. Upon spotting a nearby house, he quickly shuffles inside, before continuing:]
I stepped down because I felt my purrrpose had been serrrved. That it was no longer my place to rrreside in Windurst, for--perrrsonal reasons.
[that's as far as francel gets before his thumb slips and he sends the message unfinished.
his surprise arrives on account of the fact that he has just looked up to find the door of his house open, and the breeze from outside has come howling in. lehko stands in the doorway, closing the door posthaste. francel looks at the mithra, then at his tablet, then between both for another long moment, as though he never in fact expected lehko to arrive at his house after all.]
...Your politeness is appreciated.
[is all francel can think to say, and then — all thoughts of the shadow lord and his legion of demons quite out of his mind — he gropes for something further.]
Er — there is... that is, I left my things in the kitchen, if you would give me a moment.
[Had his nose been working like it should, he might have noticed that someone else was in the house before embarrassingly prattling on to the tablet when the Elva—Elezen he's speaking to is right there.
He perks up when he hears the voice, eyes glued to the young lord, ears likewise perked. He glances at his tablet, before he closes the application and puts it away in the backpack he slings off of his shoulders.]
Thank the Goddess, here I thought I might sufferrr the night on an empty stomach!
[He does take a moment to take in Francel's features: he's tall and has the ears, but his skin is rather fair. Elvaan were a race of darker skin, so it catches him a little off guard that he's so pink.]
My politeness means nothing in the face of your generrrosity...
[Saying such, his eyebrows raise with emphasis. Sure he isn't exactly verbally rushing Francel along or anything, but he is starting to give him some puppy dog eyes, and ever so dramatically he grips at his stomach once more.
The hunger.
It's taking him.
Please save this dying cat, only you have the power to do it, Frannyboy!]
[francel would be unimpressed with lehko's dramatic posturing (he ate this morning!) if not for the fact that he feels particularly weak to it. boyhood memories flicker through francel's mind — a young haurchefant, denied dinner by his stepmother, crawling in through francel's bedroom window in the middle of the night, demanding snacks — and he finds himself smiling despite himself as he sets his tablet on a nearby desk and makes his way to the kitchen.]
Just a moment, if you would...
[the young elezen — or, perhaps, an oddly fair-skinned and boyish elvaan — hefts his (fairly heavy) knapsack onto the kitchen counter, rifling through its contents; he pulls packages out at odd angles (notably, keeping his own favorites at the bottom of the bag), leaving everything out for lehko to help himself to.]
Nothing is truly fresh, of course, but such is the lay of this land. I have... preserved bread... biscuits... some sort of... dried fish...?
[Lehko is of course following Francel, not too terribly closely, but still closer than what's strictly necessary.
The decision is made, even before Francel mentions the fish. With how Lehko made his way over, eyes peeled as he looked over each piece of food brought out of the bag like a man who hadn't known the pleasure of food in weeks might have. The moment the dried fish was placed, his eyes didn't leave it, and he nearly looks as though it's taking every vestige of his strength to afford the self control to not just snatch it.
That is, until Francel mentions the fish specifically. That's when he strikes. Grabbing it with the swiftness and deftness you'd expect from an experienced thief or pickpocket, pivoting away as he gorges himself on it. Honestly, the whole display would suggest he hasn't eaten in more than merely a few hours, which speaks more of his greediness with food, than the actual state of his hunger.
What can he say, really? He's rather used to a better abundance of food than what's here, and even if he's not exactly been forced to go hungry for long, it's still not quite the same luxury!]
[francel watches lehko gorge himself, quite at a loss, and comes to two conclusions: one, that lehko should probably never leave the vicinity of the grocery store, and two, that it might be in the best interest of all norfinbury to pray that curiosity kills the cat, because if he is let into the grocery store he might very well eat them out of resources entirely.
the display is, however, admittedly cute, if not especially graceful or attractive; francel thinks vaguely of the coddled pets he's seen in the pillars of ishgard, of lapcats with luxurious long fur growing fat off meals presented on silver platters, of how soft the tail of one had been, when as a boy at a boring party he had slipped away from his father to try and pet the cat — only to be rewarded with the swipe of sharp claws and an irritated hiss.
...he decides he probably shouldn't try and pet lehko as he's eating. a hissing cat seems one thing; a hissing cat-man seems another.]
It's all over in moments, all that's left is what bones there are, and he turns to face Francel, completely composed as he once was, with proper dignity!]
I thank you. Lord Frrrancel. I feel rightly rrrefreshed.
[He glances to the fish bones in his hand, wondering idly where he should even dispose of them... before turning his attention back to Francel.]
[absolutely amazed by lehko's immediate reversal of grace and gracelessness, francel extends his placid stare until well after the question has sunk in — and then he sort of serenely blinks, and shakes himself from his reverie, and reconsiders their situation.]
Er... where were we, indeed? Ah...
I think you were telling me something of your Shadow Lord, before you... came in. Yes, something of that sort. You... you can help yourself to more, if you'd like.
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snowblindmemes2016-08-14 08:47 pm
no subject
I thank you—[He squints at the name]—Joacin?
I will make haste and hope I may find you, at the very least I will be far closerrr... and should I not succumb to starrrvation, perhaps we can enjoy each others company over brrreakfast!
[He scans the area to get a sense of direction, viewing the map as well, and before long he's heading off as made apparent by the moving background behind him.]
If you would be so kind to forgive me my greediness in asking for you to indulge me once more, I would like to know of the man—or woman—so grrracious enough to offerrr part of their rations to a complete strrranger.
no subject
I am no one of particular value...
My title, my House —
these things seem largely irrelevant, here in Norfinbury.
Joacin is my given name,
but if it is all the same to you,
I prefer to be called Francel.
[and then, on a hunch:]
Know you what an Elezen is, good sir?
no subject
[Like, how he was the military tactician of the Windurstian army! Sure, he's not it now, here or back in Vana'diel, but it's still a faucet of himself.]
Frrrancel it is, then! Howeverrr, I am unfamiliar with what an Elezen is, though it bears a slight rrresemblance to Elvaan to which I am familiar.
Perrrhaps a mere coincidence.
no subject
[lehko wouldn't know it, but the distinctly catlike purr on frrrancel makes the young elezen smile; he endeavors to sound a bit warmer in his replies.]
...Perhaps merely a different word for the right people.
I would identify myself as an Elezen — but I am aware that many in this town refer to us merely as Elves.
...Elvaan seems almost a mix between the two words.
A race tall of stature and long of ear, correct?
I thought, when I first saw you, that you were — what I would call — a Miqo'te,
but if you are not of my world and I am not of yours,
that cannot be quite right.
no subject
[Miqo'te, however, is a new one, and he tilts his head a little curiously.]
Miqo'te is not what my kind calls ourselves, we are Mithra. 'Twould seem the names bear only the slightest of rrresemblance, as odd as it is. How familiar are you with the Miqo'te of your world?
[He's... curious if their appearance is all they share, if maybe the societal structure is different. If it were, that'd be a nice change of pace.]
no subject
save for those precious few that leave their tribes to become sellswords and adventurers...
they are
[a pause —]
I find that most would take offense to the word "catlike," but I fear myself at a loss to describe them otherwise.
They have feline ears and tails, like your own...
Though, their facial features are rather more
Hyuran than yours
(pray do not take offense.)
I know little of their culture save that there are two tribes, of a sort,
the Keepers of the Moon and the Seekers of the Sun,
but I see Seekers more often than not,
and I have heard something to the effect that Seeker females congregate around one male —
crass and wishful thinking on part of adventurers, mostly;
the dream of being the one man in a sea of women is
a thought that men seem to entertain until they find themselves living it.
[the messages come haltingly, almost like the writer in question is stammering.]
no subject
[It's interesting to read, that there's two tribes of sorts. For the Mithra, there are many tribes, but all answer to the High Matriarch of Gha Naboh. For her will is law to the Mithra, even if it might be cruel, or otherwise unjust.]
Seems as though Miqo'te and Mithra differrr in slight rrregards to culture. If the rumors hold to the proof about one male to many females, that is. Less so because of some bizarre fantasy, than an absolute necessity. Males are in short supply for our race, and as such we are given a very base purrrpose.
I know not why one would ever wish to have women in such numberrrs flock to them. I would sooner suspect them a masochist, than not.
[He's had women play tug of war with his arms while yelling at the other, brawl over him, and even throw a spear at him as he ran away. He's not very warm to the idea of being in a sea of women if he can help it.]
no subject
In all my life, I think I have seen some two Miqo'te men, if even that...
I admit, the thought of such "base purpose" appeals very little to me as well.
But alas, it is not my place to speak for other men.
[not that francel would know what it's like to have women fight over him — or, indeed, to have anybody compete for his attentions at all — but the thought of having to take a wife and continue the family line weighs on him more than he would like, some days, and though it is not the most unappealing future to lie in store for him, francel would much rather think of other things to do with his time.
but anyway, he makes the bland observation:]
...The snows fall heavily, this eve.
Are you sure you will be alright?
no subject
[It makes the two worlds not so... alien, and easier to understand he supposes.]
I know some Mithran men who have come to accept such a fate, who are content to enterrrtain the thought as if it were their choice, as if it were some honor. Not I.
[With the observation, he does give a cursory glance. The snow has indeed picked up, and the cold is starting to wear on him ever so much...
He offers Francel a reassuring smile.]
I am a well trrraveled man, and the snow is no strrranger. I should be fine for now—but I must be realistic as well: I will rrretire in the next shelter I come across. I can ill afford to succumb to my hungerrr in the middle of a blizzard, afterrr all.
[If the weather wasn't so dire, he might put on a show and try to get the other man to pity him enough to bring him the food, but alas... he doesn't have such a luxury.]
no subject
Did you not eat this morning...?
Breakfast is more than enough for an Ishgardian knight,
when rations are in short supply...
...Or must Mithra eat more frequently than other races?
[another pause.]
Come to think of it, I gave you my name, and neglected to ask for yours.
Surely it cannot be Cait Sith.
no subject
[That's a fat lie, he just likes to eat...]
We're an energetic sort, prone to exerrrting ourselves at times.
[He has not even gotten close to exerting himself at all.]
—oh, please forgive me, I should have offerrred my name! I am Lehko Habhoka, it's a great pleasure to meet you, Frrrancel, even if only over this peculiar network.
no subject
even if said stranger might just be a wasteful glutton.]A pleasure to meet you, Lehko Habhoka.
As I said earlier, my name is Francel —
Lord Joacin Charlemend Francel de Haillenarte,
fourthborn son of House Haillenarte,
and leader of the garrison at Skyfire Locks.
None of which means anything to you, I am sure,
but as you said — it means something to the individual.
no subject
That's... certainly a name worthy of nobility. Reminds him of the Elvaan of San d'Oria, with their elegant, if a bit unwieldy names.]
Ah—forgive me once more, Lord Frrrancel. Had not a clue I was speaking with nobility, or else my mannerrrs would have been far more suitably tailored.
While a lord I am not, I am the former tactical advisor of the Windurstian army, and for a brrrief time, I serrrved as the acting commander of such. I have since stepped down from such duties, however.
no subject
I expect little ceremony here.
The majority of our "fellow residents," as you put it,
hail from lands where few afford respect to the nobility.
I have not heard of this Windurstian army —
but neither have you heard of Ishgard, I suppose.
What evil forces did you battle against?
What happened, that you would step down?
no subject
You have the right of it. Ishgard is as foreign to me as Windurst is to you.
[That's a doozy of a question, but he doesn't have any problems answering it, even if it will take a little explaining.]
We were fighting in a war which had been dubbed The Crystal War. Against the forces of the Shadow Lord--an uninspiring monikerrr I admit, but where he lacked crrreativity, he made up for in cruelty and powerrr.
He was able to unite the beastmen under his rule, and combined with his legion of demons, all four nations were laid underrr siege. Nevertheless, with no short supply of casualties, we were able to rrrepel their onslaught throughout the war, and cripple his army.
[He pauses a moment as he looks away from the tablet to assess where he was for a moment. Upon spotting a nearby house, he quickly shuffles inside, before continuing:]
I stepped down because I felt my purrrpose had been serrrved. That it was no longer my place to rrreside in Windurst, for--perrrsonal reasons.
text/action
[that's as far as francel gets before his thumb slips and he sends the message unfinished.
his surprise arrives on account of the fact that he has just looked up to find the door of his house open, and the breeze from outside has come howling in. lehko stands in the doorway, closing the door posthaste. francel looks at the mithra, then at his tablet, then between both for another long moment, as though he never in fact expected lehko to arrive at his house after all.]
...Your politeness is appreciated.
[is all francel can think to say, and then — all thoughts of the shadow lord and his legion of demons quite out of his mind — he gropes for something further.]
Er — there is... that is, I left my things in the kitchen, if you would give me a moment.
action
He perks up when he hears the voice, eyes glued to the young lord, ears likewise perked. He glances at his tablet, before he closes the application and puts it away in the backpack he slings off of his shoulders.]
Thank the Goddess, here I thought I might sufferrr the night on an empty stomach!
[He does take a moment to take in Francel's features: he's tall and has the ears, but his skin is rather fair. Elvaan were a race of darker skin, so it catches him a little off guard that he's so pink.]
My politeness means nothing in the face of your generrrosity...
[Saying such, his eyebrows raise with emphasis. Sure he isn't exactly verbally rushing Francel along or anything, but he is starting to give him some puppy dog eyes, and ever so dramatically he grips at his stomach once more.
The hunger.
It's taking him.
Please save this dying cat, only you have the power to do it, Frannyboy!]
no subject
Just a moment, if you would...
[the young elezen — or, perhaps, an oddly fair-skinned and boyish elvaan — hefts his (fairly heavy) knapsack onto the kitchen counter, rifling through its contents; he pulls packages out at odd angles (notably, keeping his own favorites at the bottom of the bag), leaving everything out for lehko to help himself to.]
Nothing is truly fresh, of course, but such is the lay of this land. I have... preserved bread... biscuits... some sort of... dried fish...?
no subject
The decision is made, even before Francel mentions the fish. With how Lehko made his way over, eyes peeled as he looked over each piece of food brought out of the bag like a man who hadn't known the pleasure of food in weeks might have. The moment the dried fish was placed, his eyes didn't leave it, and he nearly looks as though it's taking every vestige of his strength to afford the self control to not just snatch it.
That is, until Francel mentions the fish specifically. That's when he strikes. Grabbing it with the swiftness and deftness you'd expect from an experienced thief or pickpocket, pivoting away as he gorges himself on it. Honestly, the whole display would suggest he hasn't eaten in more than merely a few hours, which speaks more of his greediness with food, than the actual state of his hunger.
What can he say, really? He's rather used to a better abundance of food than what's here, and even if he's not exactly been forced to go hungry for long, it's still not quite the same luxury!]
no subject
[francel watches lehko gorge himself, quite at a loss, and comes to two conclusions: one, that lehko should probably never leave the vicinity of the grocery store, and two, that it might be in the best interest of all norfinbury to pray that curiosity kills the cat, because if he is let into the grocery store he might very well eat them out of resources entirely.
the display is, however, admittedly cute, if not especially graceful or attractive; francel thinks vaguely of the coddled pets he's seen in the pillars of ishgard, of lapcats with luxurious long fur growing fat off meals presented on silver platters, of how soft the tail of one had been, when as a boy at a boring party he had slipped away from his father to try and pet the cat — only to be rewarded with the swipe of sharp claws and an irritated hiss.
...he decides he probably shouldn't try and pet lehko as he's eating. a hissing cat seems one thing; a hissing cat-man seems another.]
I... suppose I should have expected as much...
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It's all over in moments, all that's left is what bones there are, and he turns to face Francel, completely composed as he once was, with proper dignity!]
I thank you. Lord Frrrancel. I feel rightly rrrefreshed.
[He glances to the fish bones in his hand, wondering idly where he should even dispose of them... before turning his attention back to Francel.]
--with that taken care of, where were we?
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Er... where were we, indeed? Ah...
I think you were telling me something of your Shadow Lord, before you... came in. Yes, something of that sort. You... you can help yourself to more, if you'd like.