More than I've got. What I can see on the Forums is... conflicting. Seems like the only consensus is that it isn't dangerous.
[ Mostly. There's not really a consensus on anything when it comes to the Forums, so it's hard to say. ]
That's interesting... It sounds like you know for sure that they're memories and not just some diffusion zone nonsense. You can tell me about it when we get that drink, then. Meet me here.
[ He adds the address of a dive bar that he's taken a liking to.
He rolls his eyes at the grumpy comment, but he neither addresses nor denies it. He hasn't been able to track down a pack of cigars as of late, so he's admittedly a bit more testy than usual... but Ardbert doesn't really need to know that.
Can't have him picking up smoking. It's bad for his health. ]
If you're curious I'd be glad to tell you more. I'll see you soon.
[ Somehow, it doesn't quite surprise Ardbert when he shows up at the address and it's a tavern like this. Or a bar, rather. That's the term most people seem to use here.
The place where they had drinks with Brunswick had been quite a bit nicer, given that it had been in the Sanctum near the hospital, but this spot is far more fitting of Panorama. And, perhaps, of Cid himself.
Ardbert finds him seated in one of the corners, somehow sprawled out in his seat and casually sipping at a pint as promised.
He makes his way over, settling across from Cid with little fanfare. He has his axe with him, even though he probably doesn't need it, but after the blackouts he's wanted to bring it along a bit more. He draws it from his back to lean up against the wall, out of the way. ]
[ Cid raises his glass when Ardbert makes his appearance.
Cid quite likes this bar, and he'd had a feeling that Ardbert would feel much the same. ]
Hope you don't mind that I got started without you.
[ Not that he'd had much choice. He'd have been kicked out without a drink in-hand. The proprietress is an old sailor herself; a good two heads taller than Cid, silver-haired and thickly built, with a warm-but-weary air about her. She'd disliked him on sight. (Cid isn't sure that she's keen on him even now, but he'd started off on the wrong foot with Martha as well, and that had turned out alright.)
The bar is mostly ordinary working folks, with a scattering of the rougher kind of company. It smells almost as heavily of tobacco smoke as it does liquor. Ardbert isn't the only one who's brought a weapon with him, so the axe earns him no more than a few curious glances, though it's a few more than Cid, with just his sword hanging from his belt.
It's the first time he's seen Ardbert since everything that happened with poor Boris, but he finds himself... oddly aware of the time they've been apart since then. Cid could try to unpack that, but he decides that it's entirely the fault of the bond. As a result, he takes the feeling and puts it in a box where it belongs, then throws away the key.
They're here to talk about whatever the hell is going on with Ardbert and his not-love-affair. ]
First round's on me, so order something strong. Seems like you need it.
[ There's an odd sort of weight that's lifted from Ardbert's chest when he settles down across from Cid. Which is strange, because he definitely hadn't realized it was there in the first place. Now that it's cleared, he can recognize it had been little more than a nagging sense of feeling like he was missing something.
Who would have thought that something would be Cid of all people. Is this because of what happened with Boris? There had been some strong emotions floating around in that moment, so maybe...
Well, who knows. It's not like he really understands how any of it works.
The waitress swings by their table and Ardbert orders himself a pint of some kind of ale. Not all that strong, despite a certain someone's bossiness. With a glance back to Cid, Ardbert raises one eyebrow for a beat and then huffs out a laugh. ]
I don't know what ideas you've been given because of our bond, but it truly isn't all that bad. [ And yes, some of that incredulous feeling will flow between them now. The bond's effects seem to be stronger when they're in close proximity.
He can feel Cid's avoidance too, the way he's trying to squirm away from some unwanted thought or feeling. So, with a small incline of his head: ]
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no subject
[ Mostly. There's not really a consensus on anything when it comes to the Forums, so it's hard to say. ]
That's interesting... It sounds like you know for sure that they're memories and not just some diffusion zone nonsense. You can tell me about it when we get that drink, then. Meet me here.
[ He adds the address of a dive bar that he's taken a liking to.
He rolls his eyes at the grumpy comment, but he neither addresses nor denies it. He hasn't been able to track down a pack of cigars as of late, so he's admittedly a bit more testy than usual... but Ardbert doesn't really need to know that.
Can't have him picking up smoking. It's bad for his health. ]
no subject
[ Somehow, it doesn't quite surprise Ardbert when he shows up at the address and it's a tavern like this. Or a bar, rather. That's the term most people seem to use here.
The place where they had drinks with Brunswick had been quite a bit nicer, given that it had been in the Sanctum near the hospital, but this spot is far more fitting of Panorama. And, perhaps, of Cid himself.
Ardbert finds him seated in one of the corners, somehow sprawled out in his seat and casually sipping at a pint as promised.
He makes his way over, settling across from Cid with little fanfare. He has his axe with him, even though he probably doesn't need it, but after the blackouts he's wanted to bring it along a bit more. He draws it from his back to lean up against the wall, out of the way. ]
Nice spot.
[ He does, in fact, seem genuine about that. ]
no subject
Cid quite likes this bar, and he'd had a feeling that Ardbert would feel much the same. ]
Hope you don't mind that I got started without you.
[ Not that he'd had much choice. He'd have been kicked out without a drink in-hand. The proprietress is an old sailor herself; a good two heads taller than Cid, silver-haired and thickly built, with a warm-but-weary air about her. She'd disliked him on sight. (Cid isn't sure that she's keen on him even now, but he'd started off on the wrong foot with Martha as well, and that had turned out alright.)
The bar is mostly ordinary working folks, with a scattering of the rougher kind of company. It smells almost as heavily of tobacco smoke as it does liquor. Ardbert isn't the only one who's brought a weapon with him, so the axe earns him no more than a few curious glances, though it's a few more than Cid, with just his sword hanging from his belt.
It's the first time he's seen Ardbert since everything that happened with poor Boris, but he finds himself... oddly aware of the time they've been apart since then. Cid could try to unpack that, but he decides that it's entirely the fault of the bond. As a result, he takes the feeling and puts it in a box where it belongs, then throws away the key.
They're here to talk about whatever the hell is going on with Ardbert and his not-love-affair. ]
First round's on me, so order something strong. Seems like you need it.
[ The waitress is already making her way over. ]
no subject
Who would have thought that something would be Cid of all people. Is this because of what happened with Boris? There had been some strong emotions floating around in that moment, so maybe...
Well, who knows. It's not like he really understands how any of it works.
The waitress swings by their table and Ardbert orders himself a pint of some kind of ale. Not all that strong, despite a certain someone's bossiness. With a glance back to Cid, Ardbert raises one eyebrow for a beat and then huffs out a laugh. ]
I don't know what ideas you've been given because of our bond, but it truly isn't all that bad. [ And yes, some of that incredulous feeling will flow between them now. The bond's effects seem to be stronger when they're in close proximity.
He can feel Cid's avoidance too, the way he's trying to squirm away from some unwanted thought or feeling. So, with a small incline of his head: ]
And what of you? How have you been?