Categories > Games > Final Fantasy XII
He only asked because he was bored, the drink at this out of the way bar was swill, and they'd gotten tired of trying to out-cheat each other at poker. And it was an idle thought that had struck him more than once.
"Aren't those...uncomfortable?"
Fran looked down at her feet, or more precisely at her shoes. "No. Why?"
"It's just that every woman that I've ever met has detested them and complained about how they hurt her feet. And her legs. And her back...."
Fran shrugged, stretching her arms and shaking out her legs after having sat for so long. Really, Balthier was going to have to have a talk with Dharnas about keeping respectable sky pirates waiting.... "Viera shoes are all like this. They have to be. We'd never be able to wear hume shoes."
Balthier's brow furrowed. "Now why is that? Granted, I don't believe we're discussing this. I blame it entirely on boredom."
Fran came over again, sitting down at her seat again. She pulled off one shoe, and her foot didn't relax from its pointed-toes arch. She wiggled it, and Balthier could see that there was less flexibility in the joint, as she didn't appear to be able to put her foot flat. The sole of her foot looked leather-tough all the way through the curve of toes and arch and about as inflexible. "Ah, I think I see. A difference in joint architecture, I take it? More like a..." more like a rabbit he almost said, but caught himself just in time. "...like a hume on our tippy toes. Amazing. And here I just thought that you all had wonderfully dashing fashion sense." He gestured to the rest of Fran's bodysuit. "Not that you don't, of course."
"This from the man who can't decide what jewelry to wear in the morning, so he wears it all." Fran cast a pointed look at his hands as she put her shoe back on.
"You wound me, Fran." Balthier spread out his fingers and their accompanying rings admiringly. "It's called being artfully mismatched."
"I would think they would get in the way of using your gun." Fran's lips twitched as she idly picked up the cards again and started shuffling.
"My dear, nothing gets in the way of a man using his gun." Balthier stretched and yawned. "And it's my off hand anyway. Honestly, where is Dharnas? It's past sundown. And I think that the barkeep is ready to throw us out on our ears if we don't buy more than a drink apiece this time."
"So buy dinner."
"It is rather that time, isn't it? It's your turn to buy, isn't it?"
"Your turn."
"Are you sure? I distinctly remember--"
"--me buying in Rabanastre last time? Exactly."
"But before that--"
"--you still owe me 50 gil for your share of drinks after the job out west."
"Well, may--"
"And 100 from the last time we played for real money." She tapped the cards into square pointedly against the battered and stained table.
"You cheated the last time we played cards for real--"
"Remember, I like my meat rare and my greens freshly washed."
Balthier shook his head. "Merciless."
Fran just smiled smugly.
"Aren't those...uncomfortable?"
Fran looked down at her feet, or more precisely at her shoes. "No. Why?"
"It's just that every woman that I've ever met has detested them and complained about how they hurt her feet. And her legs. And her back...."
Fran shrugged, stretching her arms and shaking out her legs after having sat for so long. Really, Balthier was going to have to have a talk with Dharnas about keeping respectable sky pirates waiting.... "Viera shoes are all like this. They have to be. We'd never be able to wear hume shoes."
Balthier's brow furrowed. "Now why is that? Granted, I don't believe we're discussing this. I blame it entirely on boredom."
Fran came over again, sitting down at her seat again. She pulled off one shoe, and her foot didn't relax from its pointed-toes arch. She wiggled it, and Balthier could see that there was less flexibility in the joint, as she didn't appear to be able to put her foot flat. The sole of her foot looked leather-tough all the way through the curve of toes and arch and about as inflexible. "Ah, I think I see. A difference in joint architecture, I take it? More like a..." more like a rabbit he almost said, but caught himself just in time. "...like a hume on our tippy toes. Amazing. And here I just thought that you all had wonderfully dashing fashion sense." He gestured to the rest of Fran's bodysuit. "Not that you don't, of course."
"This from the man who can't decide what jewelry to wear in the morning, so he wears it all." Fran cast a pointed look at his hands as she put her shoe back on.
"You wound me, Fran." Balthier spread out his fingers and their accompanying rings admiringly. "It's called being artfully mismatched."
"I would think they would get in the way of using your gun." Fran's lips twitched as she idly picked up the cards again and started shuffling.
"My dear, nothing gets in the way of a man using his gun." Balthier stretched and yawned. "And it's my off hand anyway. Honestly, where is Dharnas? It's past sundown. And I think that the barkeep is ready to throw us out on our ears if we don't buy more than a drink apiece this time."
"So buy dinner."
"It is rather that time, isn't it? It's your turn to buy, isn't it?"
"Your turn."
"Are you sure? I distinctly remember--"
"--me buying in Rabanastre last time? Exactly."
"But before that--"
"--you still owe me 50 gil for your share of drinks after the job out west."
"Well, may--"
"And 100 from the last time we played for real money." She tapped the cards into square pointedly against the battered and stained table.
"You cheated the last time we played cards for real--"
"Remember, I like my meat rare and my greens freshly washed."
Balthier shook his head. "Merciless."
Fran just smiled smugly.
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