Here I go.
Not as long as I'd like but the scene sort of jumped out at me right away so I wanted to write it down before I forgot it. Feel free to judge.
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Spoiler
Sunlight filtered in through the windows, the illuminated rectangle slowly crawling across the floor indicating that the sun had only just begun its shift for the day. Franz was awake as usual and enjoying the brief moments of silence he'd come to appreciate in the often-disastrous wake of his newfound companions.
He was briefly distracted by what he had settled on for his breakfast. Dried and cut grains? Some sort of process made it crunchy but edible, and with sufficient sweetening and an ample supply of aldgoat's milk it wasn't awful. It was far from the variety of a proper Garlean breakfast; Gone were the finely-prepared eggs and meats and breads, missing were the spices that made Garlean cuisine what it was. He'd traded that, somehow, for cold rice and milk.
What was he doing in Eorzea? It was not his home. It was not where he was raised, where he was built. He owed nothing to the land, and he certainly didn't owe anything to its people. The old thoughts ran through his mind as he absently spooned another bite into his mouth, but there was something missing to connect them to his mind and heart.
The miqo'te woman. An antagonist from the get-go, more interested in picking fights and teasing than getting anything done. Her mate, the one full of regret and indecision. Somehow he'd come to bunk with these two? Had he met them on a battlefield prior to Carteneau he knew he would have cloven them in two and been onto the next group of would-be heroes. They were precisely what the Empire wanted to exterminate.
...but that wasn't quite true, either. The woman's demeanor hid depth that Franz knew existed but he suspect she did not. The man's sorrows came from a source of wanting to have done the right thing. They were not simple-minded, they were complex. They were people.
Franz gazed absently off at the wall opposite him, at one of twenty-seven pictures of the Sultana that graced their humble abode. He reconsidered, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, that Eorzea wasn't the sort of place the Empire painted it as. For all of their faults, and all of his own issues, the place and its people were growing on him. In time, he wondered if he might even consider these people true frie-
BOOM
One of the cannons from the front yard had gone off. Snapped back to his interrupted meal, Franz was dimly aware of yelling in the front yard.
"Load the rest, Kage! That's the last time they pick at my garden! And wake Porkchop up, too! He can help!"
Or maybe not.
Sunlight filtered in through the windows, the illuminated rectangle slowly crawling across the floor indicating that the sun had only just begun its shift for the day. Franz was awake as usual and enjoying the brief moments of silence he'd come to appreciate in the often-disastrous wake of his newfound companions.
He was briefly distracted by what he had settled on for his breakfast. Dried and cut grains? Some sort of process made it crunchy but edible, and with sufficient sweetening and an ample supply of aldgoat's milk it wasn't awful. It was far from the variety of a proper Garlean breakfast; Gone were the finely-prepared eggs and meats and breads, missing were the spices that made Garlean cuisine what it was. He'd traded that, somehow, for cold rice and milk.
What was he doing in Eorzea? It was not his home. It was not where he was raised, where he was built. He owed nothing to the land, and he certainly didn't owe anything to its people. The old thoughts ran through his mind as he absently spooned another bite into his mouth, but there was something missing to connect them to his mind and heart.
The miqo'te woman. An antagonist from the get-go, more interested in picking fights and teasing than getting anything done. Her mate, the one full of regret and indecision. Somehow he'd come to bunk with these two? Had he met them on a battlefield prior to Carteneau he knew he would have cloven them in two and been onto the next group of would-be heroes. They were precisely what the Empire wanted to exterminate.
...but that wasn't quite true, either. The woman's demeanor hid depth that Franz knew existed but he suspect she did not. The man's sorrows came from a source of wanting to have done the right thing. They were not simple-minded, they were complex. They were people.
Franz gazed absently off at the wall opposite him, at one of twenty-seven pictures of the Sultana that graced their humble abode. He reconsidered, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, that Eorzea wasn't the sort of place the Empire painted it as. For all of their faults, and all of his own issues, the place and its people were growing on him. In time, he wondered if he might even consider these people true frie-
BOOM
One of the cannons from the front yard had gone off. Snapped back to his interrupted meal, Franz was dimly aware of yelling in the front yard.
"Load the rest, Kage! That's the last time they pick at my garden! And wake Porkchop up, too! He can help!"
Or maybe not.
Not as long as I'd like but the scene sort of jumped out at me right away so I wanted to write it down before I forgot it. Feel free to judge.
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
