"Next up for auction...!" The man behind the podium falters, straightens his glasses as he peers at the scrap of paper that was just handed to him. He twists his head around seeking validation. A disheveled dandy simply nods in assurance.
"A date. With him."
The low drone of gossip swells through the crowd. A couple people laugh.
"Setzer Gabbiani, age 23. Flight enthusiast and professional gambler. Sounds like a real treat, ladies. The bidding starts at..." The auctioneer again side-eyes the young man in question, wondering if he's being taken for a fool. "Fifty gil."
Setzer shrugs, then nonchalantly begins to examine his cuffs. The audience is silent.
"Do I hear fifty gil? Fifty gil, anyone?"
An elderly woman raises her number. "You're cute. And I like your hair," she says, patting her own silver bun girlishly. Setzer gives her a cheeky grin and a wink in response, and the murmur of laughter echoes around the room once again.
"Fifty gil!" the auctioneer parrots. "Do I hear one hundred? One hundred gil for a date with this young man!"
A slender redhead in the second row chimes in. "One hundred gil!" A chorus of Ooohhs and a few wolf-whistles follow. Setzer only gives a small, polite bow in response.
"Two hundred," retorts the older woman. The crowd starts to get more lively. A man standing in the back holding a brown paper bag suspiciously like a bottle enters the next bid.
"Serious bids only, now... if you win, you pay!" chides the auctioneer.
"Oh, I'm serious!"
Setzer maintains his polite smile throughout; a perfect poker face towards all of his would-be suitors. The audience grows rowdier as the auction progresses, and the flustered auctioneer has to bang his mallet on the podium on several occasions in an attempt to restore order.
As the bidding finally seems to be settling down around the 3,000 gil mark (the lovely young redhead is now flushed with excitement, and the lecherous whistles continue around her), the auctioneer gratefully prepares to put an end to the madness. But before he has a chance to declare the winner, a new voice rings out -
"Ten thousand gil."
Even Setzer breaks character for a split-second while everyone turns to get a look at the newcomer.
"Sold to the lady in the red coat!" announces the auctioneer, wiping the sweat from his brow. The crowd remains in stunned silence as they watch the new winner stride up to the stage.
"I have one condition," she says, curling her fingers around Setzer's ascot. "I'd like to try before I buy; make sure I'm getting my money's worth."
Setzer grins. "By all means."
The lady pulls him into a passionate kiss and the audience erupts into wild applause, whooping and cheering so loud that passers-by stop to curiously poke their heads into the building. They kiss like long-lost lovers reunited; hungry, overwhelmed, and a little competitive. The auctioneer, sweating anew, has to separate them and practically shoves them both down the stairs. The woman tosses a coin bag with his percentage at the flustered man as she pulls Setzer along down the aisle.
"The name's Daryl. I saw you in the tavern yesterday."
"Daryl," says Setzer, savoring the sound. "You could have won a date for free if you'd done this then."
"Oh, I intend to get my money back. This is just my opening bid." She drops a larger bag of gil into Setzer's hand. "Let's play a game of cards."
Ante up! (Setzer/Daryl, PG)
"A date. With him."
The low drone of gossip swells through the crowd. A couple people laugh.
"Setzer Gabbiani, age 23. Flight enthusiast and professional gambler. Sounds like a real treat, ladies. The bidding starts at..." The auctioneer again side-eyes the young man in question, wondering if he's being taken for a fool. "Fifty gil."
Setzer shrugs, then nonchalantly begins to examine his cuffs. The audience is silent.
"Do I hear fifty gil? Fifty gil, anyone?"
An elderly woman raises her number. "You're cute. And I like your hair," she says, patting her own silver bun girlishly. Setzer gives her a cheeky grin and a wink in response, and the murmur of laughter echoes around the room once again.
"Fifty gil!" the auctioneer parrots. "Do I hear one hundred? One hundred gil for a date with this young man!"
A slender redhead in the second row chimes in. "One hundred gil!" A chorus of Ooohhs and a few wolf-whistles follow. Setzer only gives a small, polite bow in response.
"Two hundred," retorts the older woman. The crowd starts to get more lively. A man standing in the back holding a brown paper bag suspiciously like a bottle enters the next bid.
"Serious bids only, now... if you win, you pay!" chides the auctioneer.
"Oh, I'm serious!"
Setzer maintains his polite smile throughout; a perfect poker face towards all of his would-be suitors. The audience grows rowdier as the auction progresses, and the flustered auctioneer has to bang his mallet on the podium on several occasions in an attempt to restore order.
As the bidding finally seems to be settling down around the 3,000 gil mark (the lovely young redhead is now flushed with excitement, and the lecherous whistles continue around her), the auctioneer gratefully prepares to put an end to the madness. But before he has a chance to declare the winner, a new voice rings out -
"Ten thousand gil."
Even Setzer breaks character for a split-second while everyone turns to get a look at the newcomer.
"Sold to the lady in the red coat!" announces the auctioneer, wiping the sweat from his brow. The crowd remains in stunned silence as they watch the new winner stride up to the stage.
"I have one condition," she says, curling her fingers around Setzer's ascot. "I'd like to try before I buy; make sure I'm getting my money's worth."
Setzer grins. "By all means."
The lady pulls him into a passionate kiss and the audience erupts into wild applause, whooping and cheering so loud that passers-by stop to curiously poke their heads into the building. They kiss like long-lost lovers reunited; hungry, overwhelmed, and a little competitive. The auctioneer, sweating anew, has to separate them and practically shoves them both down the stairs. The woman tosses a coin bag with his percentage at the flustered man as she pulls Setzer along down the aisle.
"The name's Daryl. I saw you in the tavern yesterday."
"Daryl," says Setzer, savoring the sound. "You could have won a date for free if you'd done this then."
"Oh, I intend to get my money back. This is just my opening bid." She drops a larger bag of gil into Setzer's hand. "Let's play a game of cards."