Chapter Text
"Ah - hold on chat, someone's pinging me." As the party finder group slowly fills, Finana turns to her second monitor, Discord and Slack in parallel windows. There are a decent few messages in Slack that she could read instead, but what catches her eye enough to pull away from her chat window is… six DMs from Claude.
She rolls her eyes with a smile, assuming this is another one of his random whims to send her a bunch of silly voice messages right after he wakes up. It doesn't happen often, and definitely not routinely, but every so often he gets the urge to be annoying.
He's lucky that he's beautiful - he can be such a little shit sometimes. But that's also one of many reasons that she loves him, eugh.
She checks that her desktop audio is turned off, and goes to listen to the first voice message. There's a moment of sheet rustling, before Claude's morning voice echoes through her headphones.
Wow that's crazy… If only there an M1 DPS who knows M12 P1 to prog P2… If only there was a Dragoon player who could fill a spot and kinda do his thing…
She giggles under her breath - it's clear he'd been watching stream while Finana and her party slowly waiting for that final DPS slot to fill. She had no intention of bothering him so early in the morning, especially after she knew he had gone out drinking the night prior - but of course, as is his wont, Claude Clawmark loves to whine.
She plays the second message, and the dramatics are turned up to eleven.
Oh, so now you've got a new Dragoon player, huh!? Got one of you're cool new Dragoon players to fill my spot… Whatever man! I gotta go to the studio and - [indistinguishable grunts of displeasure].
She laughs again, playing the messages again with her audio turned on for her chat to hear. She had checked his schedule before the stream, perfectly aware that he would be unavailable to join for this prog session, and yet there was nothing Claude found more pleasure in than complaining.
She turns her desktop audio back off - one thing six years of streaming has trained into her muscle memory - before noticing the other four DMs he had sent after the audio messages.
> i have to go to the studio today >:((((((((
>manesan wants me to record asmr because she wants me dead
>u already replaced me……………. u HATE me
>doing my finana impression irl. crossing my arms and huffing like u do all the time
She shakes her head and chuckles, ready to turn her attention back to stream before another message comes in. It's another audio message, quickly followed up by Claude typing 'not for stream - just for you'.
She smirks, though there's a small flutter in her stomach. Very rarely does Claude send messages like this. He prefers to do it over a call.
Her chat is still (lightly) making fun of Claude's brattiness, so she takes advantage.
"One second guys - I'm gonna run to the bathroom before we prog!" A round of 'go piss girls' enter her chat, so she mutes herself and takes her work phone into the bathroom to listen to the message.
Shutting the door behind her, she turns up the volume on her phone just enough so that she still has to hold the speaker close to her ear — she refuses to have even a decibel overheard by one of her family members. Her finger hits the play button, and she raises up the phone.
There's more sheet rustling, and Finana can already imagine what he looks like — a slight morning flush, his hair a mess, muscles and curves lit by the sun streaming in through the window. She truly curses that she isn't there in person. With a quiet inhale, his voice comes through the speakers.
Mm. I miss you. Don't clear without me or I'll never forgive you. Finana rolls her eyes, impossibly fond. Already replaced… I'm just one of many mistresses to you, huh? I'm but one of many consort in your Final Fantasy palace? But… bìxià - I've been so loyal to you.
Finana has to hold in a cough - she's more than used to Claude's comedic drama, but for whatever reason he seems to have adopted a sultry tone, and the little bit of Mandarin leaving his lips is downright sinful. No wonder he wanted this played off stream - he's pulling out all the stops.
Alas - the message isn't over. There's a beat of silence, before Claude breaks out into giggles. Finana wants to strangle him, just a little.
I would say sorry, but I'm not. But seriously - if you clear without me, I'm never talking to you again. Hmph! Besides… His voice dips low. You wouldn't want to lose the prettiest consort in the palace, hm? You need to stop showing me so many C-dramas, or I'll start talking like this all the time.
With her free hand covering her face, heating up from Claude's stupid antics, he laughs.
Alright, I'll stop bothering you. For now. Don't stay up too late - love you.
The audio finally cuts out, and Finana would punch her mirror if that wouldn't be a horrible idea in every way imaginable. She really wants to. It's so unfair how he weaves between funny and sultry, only to then act embarrassed about it later. He'll act like he didn't even send this message if she confronts him about it later — a reminder to herself to download it to her computer. Just in case.
Knowing that she's been away from stream for long enough, she records a simple audio message back.
"You are so annoying. Send me a photo of your boobs later and I'll think about it. Love you!" She's a simple woman, at the end of the day.
On her way back to her computer, she downloads the audio messages before unmuting herself, just in time for a ready check to pop up on the screen. She clicks ready, talks to her chat a bit as they had been entertaining themselves, and right as they queue into the duty, she sees another damned ping from Claude.
It's a photo.
But the countdown timer has started — the waymarkers are already on the arena. As the guitar kicks in, she minimizes the Discord tab, steeling her resolve.
She's got a reward for later.