Fish Out of Water

deltra of gangnam style

Francois was not one to rest his laurels even when on a vacation or a holiday, especially when most of the Rune Knights are helping themselves with the amenities and games all over the venue. He can’t quite describe what he felt at the sight of his co workers being lax during their time of respite. Annoyed? Perhaps, given the previous fiasco the rune knight was involved in which resulted in his collapse. It was fortunate that the mysterious figure was there to catch his fall when he ran out of magic power and couldn’t sustain the existence of his comrades anymore.

To him, that ordeal scarred his pride. That he had to rely on someone’s help made him feel inferior, and he couldn’t stand being so helpless and vulnerable around people. One would argue that this is a testament of his strength, perseverance, and determination against overwhelming odds, but what happened last time… it was just a miracle. It was as if he was in a trance. In that moment, arcane knowledge flooded his mind at ludicrous speed that he couldn’t process what he’d witnessed, yet he subconsciously kept on chanting until he ran out of mana after the slew of spells he casted at his adversary.

Was he still fatigued? Mentally, perhaps. His brothers had told him to take it easy, even though the eccentric scientist from before was kind enough to provide him succor and rejuvenation with his odd trinkets. Despite the aid, a saying goes where ‘the flesh is healed but the soul remains bruised’. After the previous mission, Francois’ normal everyday routine was hindered by this odd sluggishness that he felt, and he’d get a dizzy spell once in a while, though it has stopped occurring recently. His consultation with the professors went okay, though he couldn’t help but wince at the thought of having to rest. His overexertion of his magical power damaged the flow of ethernanos within his body, which in turn affected him physically. They explained his flow of ethernanos is more delicate than others, and it is of utmost importance that he takes this chance to recover. He complied, as much as he is reluctant to do so.

And that is where he found himself by the venue occupied by the Rune Knights for this summer soiree. He himself sticks out like a sore thumb considering the fact that he is wearing his casual attire - a white buttoned shirt, brown vest, purple ascot, brown trousers and brown leather boots. He has no plans to join in on the celebration because of one thing - sand. He hates it, and it gets into uncomfortable places. All the magic in the world can’t get rid of that one annoying grain of sand sticking on his skin. He is irked at the feeling of sand beneath his bare feet, or rather any part of his feet. He’d have to maintain a thin layer of air around his skin to prevent the grains from sticking to his skin, but he’s not supposed to use magic.

As much as he hates to admit it, but today he accepted the fact that he may be a bit of a workaholic as he reflected on his career as a Rune Knight. Reading case files and studying magic hardly qualifies as ‘rest’ to everyone’s standards. He just wants to rise up the ranks and prove his worth as a valuable asset in the defense of Fiore. But looking upon his comrades enjoying the soiree… seeing them drown themselves in the festivities reminds him that these smiles exist because they were here to protect them. Surely they deserve respite from their duty.

Except… there’s just an odd one out of the bunch - a short haired woman with a drink clasped between her hand. She stood out to him because it has been a while and she has not made a single effort to mingle with their comrades. Social anxiety? Maybe. But he could feel that she was maybe tense, or just isn’t good at making friends so she’s just awkwardly standing around doing nothing.

Well, if he isn’t going to be working, he might as well try and figure out what goes inside this woman’s head and help resolve whatever internal conflicts she might be facing, if there is any. Or just to be in good company so she doesn’t stick out awkwardly, though they’d stick out even more considering his choice of attire for this occasion.

“I don’t know your story but I figured you could use some company, if you won’t mind.” He said as he approached the woman, “After all, the beach is hardly the best place to be by your lonesome, especially at a festive soiree. I won’t pry if you’re uncomfortable talking about your troubles. I only have your wellbeing in my best interests. Oh, and you may call me Francois.”

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Post Word Count: 819
Thread Word Count: 1,432 / 4,000

deltra of gangnam style

Francois just smiled as the woman confided to him about her troubles. Something about her reminds him of his twin brother - reserved, not too fond of crowds, being a lone wolf in general. He could tell that something was on her mind just by her way of speaking, but withheld himself so as to not make her uncomfortable. He is just happy to accompany her.

The rune knight chuckled at the question Aeron had asked him, flabbergasted at his odd choice of wardrobe. Understandably so, considering his attire is inappropriate for this summer soiree. And it pleased him to see her flustered and fumbling with her words as she asked him. Adorable. “Haha, fret not Ms. Aeron. It might be odd to everyone, but I simply don’t like sand sticking to who knows where around my skin. It gets into annoying areas, and the next thing you know you get a rash in uncomfortable places, or however that goes. Heat be damned, sand is the worst. If it was possible to be allergic to sand, then I might as well be on my deathbed right now.”

And then he noticed her gaze looking at their comrades, a tinge of melancholy seen in her eyes. He listened as she expressed her woes to him, and found himself relating to her problems, ignorant as he is to her former life.  “Likewise. I find it difficult to just… do whatever other than work. It’s what I’ve been doing all my life that my brothers said I’m a workaholic… which I won’t deny. But what am I supposed to do? If I don’t work, I train. If I don’t train, I rest. If I don’t rest, I work. Rinse and repeat. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

He’d then grab a glass or two of alcoholic beverages before continuing the conversation, one a fruity alcoholic beverage and the other whatever it is that the woman fancies. “When I was faced with this conundrum in the past, I’d ask my older brothers for help. They know how to have fun. It’s in their nature. I don’t. But… it’s not as if it’s difficult to figure out where to start, or that everyone made it look easy. You just have to get the ball rolling, you know? Make some small talk and the next thing you know you’re part of a circle of friends who will back you up when you’re on your lowest.”

He took a sip before continuing with the conversation. “Ms. Aeron, I won’t ask what past you had that makes it difficult for you to interact with our coworkers. But I do know this - everyone needs a friend, one you can rely on when you’re at your lowest, through thick and thin. And I’m willing to be that friend.”

He paused, leaving her a brief moment to contemplate on her words while gulping down his fruity cocktail. “So why don’t we have some fun together? We could try parasailing. Or, how do the kids say it? ‘Wreck some noobs’ in volleyball? We can do whatever you fancy. Just… nothing involving making elaborate sand creations.” he chuckles.

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Post Word Count: 521
Thread Word Count: 2,419 / 4,000

deltra of gangnam style

“Sure? I’ll just say I’m not as adept at firearms so don’t expect much from me.” He said hesitantly in response to the woman’s proposal, then chuckled in the end. When Ms. Aeron proposed to join the water gun fight as a team, there was a brief moment of discomfort for him, perhaps cringing at a distant embarrassing memory in the past involving guns. Honestly, compared to his twin brother Michael, Francois is terrible at wielding firearms. Water arms, in this case? Regardless, he isn’t afraid to get wet. Moreso, he is somewhat afraid to embarrass himself in front of his peers when using guns. Sure, aiming with magic is what he’s good at, but he has piss poor hand eye coordination when it comes to guns, as if the heavens decreed it to be his one and only flaw.

As if things wouldn’t get worse for him, he got the short end of the stick with the guns, so to speak. He was given a pistol, the staff claiming that everything else was out and these were the only ones left, and Ms. Aeron was lucky enough to snag an excellent one. Compared to hers with an unlimited water supply, he’d have to manually reload his. He sighed, disappointed upon inspecting the specs of his gun. There is a silver lining to it, however - the pistol’s good for short range combat, something Francois is adept with. Lunge and blast, rinse and repeat. A tried and true tactic in his books. If he plays his cards right, he wouldn’t need to reload as much. Assuming it’s not allowed to ‘steal’ weapons, then the pistol is what he’ll have. “... I’m grabbing two.” The staff nodded and gave him an extra pistol.

It wasn’t after he stepped foot in the arena when most of their coworkers locked their eyes locked unto him. Then they glanced at each other, as if they all unanimously decided to take out the competition and formed a ceasefire pact with each other. An unspoken agreement, so to speak. He could feel the tension in the air, but he remained unbothered. All of them? Against  him? Fat chance. It’s as if the spirit of festivities was replaced by an air of competitiveness when he stepped into the ring.

But in this fight, there are no winners. Only men and women drenched in water. So why the hell are they so serious?!

“Have fun.”  he said in response to Aeron giving him her well wishes. The whistle blew, marking the start of the fight. He watched as she left him behind to assume the position of a marksman, and observed her strafing through the battlefield looking for an apt cover. It would appear that the woman was adept with firearms, and was an experienced markswoman. Her mannerisms and approach to this endeavor gave him that tell, which reminds him so much of his twin brother. Meanwhile, he walked towards the wolves’ den, a group of eager coworkers waiting for the chance to drench him in water.

They didn’t fire their weapons at him simultaneously and indiscriminately. Rather, some took cover while those with pistols rushed towards him as they pulled the trigger, shots of cold water bursting through the barrel towards him. They took turns firing at him while some took the chance to reload their water guns.

For the sake of brevity and sparing the dramatics, Francois was only partially drenched at the 20 minute mark, after which the fight ended. Only his trousers were wet, and so are his sleeves. His chest? Not so much. A little bit of dodging here and a little bit of side step there, some shooting over there and blam, it’s over. His back was wet from slipping on his back once or twice but enough for it to be completely soaked, and so does his hair.

He waited for her to emerge from the arena, and he’d wave as soon as he saw her. “So, how did you do Ms. Aeron? Did you have fun?” He asked the woman after the match ended. She could see him not being completely drenched in water, for some damn reason. After listening to her response, he’d make another suggestion for an activity. Something fun, yet challenging. He pointed in the direction of a crowded court filled with music, the venue decorated with wooden tiki masks and hay. At the center of the court is a light bar fixed upon a pair of wooden poles. The bar was fixed lower and lower after each successful pass, until such a time where the participant could not go any lower that they knocked off the bar, they fell to the floor, or something else. In short, it is a Limbo contest.

“Oh, how about we try that? This could be a fun challenge, yes?” Presuming she agreed to it, he went to the court and observed the participants go at it. Some were flexible enough to go low, but others were not as lucky and stumbled around to try and keep their balance but failed miserably and knocked off the bar. Then it was his turn. Considering his frame, it shouldn’t take him long. But one could say years of dedicated training was for this moment alone as he is surprisingly flexible, being able to pass through a fourth of the way with ease. Then he was starting to struggle as the bar went lower, prompting him to take his sweet time so as to not rush things. Not like he is on a timer or anything. Unfortunately, after he tried to move across, his body gave away and he fell to the ground.


He couldn’t beat the high score unsurprisingly. He’s flexible, but not that flexible, and he is on the bigger side. “Well I tried.” He’d say to Aeron as he came back towards her.

When it was her turn to go at it, he gave his well wishes to the woman. “Good luck! And don’t think about it too hard.”

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Post Word Count: 1009
Thread Word Count: 4,298 / 4,000

deltra of gangnam style