(Open & Closed)

[judgmentbolts]

Who: Cid & YOU!
When: Post-Event
Where: Free Cities (Cadens)
What: Post-event catch-all
Warnings: Canon-typical warnings (see the bottom of the page)

Comments

[ Closed ] Geralt

[judgmentbolts]

[ After everything that's happened so recently, the simplicity of hunting is a boon. Most of the snares he'd set before their little excursion into the future had remained empty, or otherwise had their bounty stolen by more enterprising hands and fortunate animals — not that anything would have lasted the weeks he'd been gone. Cid sets himself to re-setting the empty snares, not too far from the well-traveled trails. Even with just a hunting knife for company, he doesn't worry too much about looking after himself. (Not that he doesn't miss the dog on days like this.)

When riders come through the trail, it's easy enough for a single person to stay out of sight if need be. Cid usually opts to do just that, but he catches the shape of the rider's cloak and the flash of silver hair, and it's just familiar enough for him to hesitate. He takes a few steps toward the trail before he can think better of it, stopping just at the edge without getting in the path. ]

Geralt? Is that you, you old wolf? [ As the man gets closer, he realizes his mistake. It's hard to imagine how he mistook this one for anything other than a man, with a face like that — although those eyes aren't quite as human as he'd expect.

He tucks the hunting knife back into a sheath near his belt; the man doesn't seem concerned, but he is well-armed, and Cid isn't looking for trouble. ] Thought you might be someone I knew. Apologies friend, the heat must be getting to me.

[ He doesn't look away, still frowning and slightly puzzled. He can't shake the odd familiarity of this man, but he certainly doesn't recognize him. ]

[gynvael]

[ Between the storms and an unexpected excursion to the Singularity, Roach has been trapped in the stable for far too long. So taking her out is one of the first things Geralt does. It gives him time to think, anyhow. Jaskier's aggressive foray into pastries is wearing on him. And truthfully, returning to the desert, dry and sweltering, feels like shit after his memories of being anywhere but here.

He misses the forest.

The figure on the trail gives him a slight pause. He slows his horse a touch—but the voice that calls out to him is familiar. Hard to forget it. He draws closer, curious. It's strange, to both recognize people and yet not. He keeps seeing them with shadows of wings and starlit shine.

Seems Cid is going through the same. It takes him a moment to realize they never did meet without his wolf shroud. ]

I am. [ He dismounts, careful to avoid the snare by his feet. His gaze roams over the other man. Funny. They should be strangers. They've never spoken in reality. And yet. ] You've lost a few legs.

[judgmentbolts]

[ It makes as much sense as anything, he supposes. He'd always found his own god form... unsettling, though it was no more uncomfortable than an old pair of boots. Geralt had just seemed to fit in the skin of a wolf, as if a wolf was what he'd always been. (Cid had rather liked the look, if he was being honest — not that this one is anything to sigh about.)

As he steps forward to meet Geralt, he huffs at the words, smiling. ] I have, aye. And you're just a bit less furry than I remember you. You'll have to introduce me to your barber, he's done a fine job. [ He taps the center of Geralt's chest with the back of his hand. An overly familiar gesture perhaps, but Cid hardly thinks twice about it. He's always been the handsy sort, and they didn't know each other so well that he thinks he needs to be too fussed. ]

Replaced me already, I see. [ He nods toward the horse. ] Who's this?

[ It seems an easier thing to begin with than untangling the snare of false history... and it isn't as if he's not curious. He understands that horses are as common as chocobos, but that doesn't make the beasts any less strange. ]

[gynvael]

[ His lips twitch ever so slightly. Yes. He did shed a significant amount, even if his hair remains as untamed as usual.

The camaraderie doesn't feel out of place—though perhaps Geralt, too, is accustomed to those who grow familiar quickly. He doesn't react to the gesture, only turning towards the mare. She's black, slimmer and lighter-footed for the sands than the sturdy breeds Cid would've seen him ride in their shared...vision.

Or whatever the fuck that was. He's not yet untangled everything that happened. ]

This is Roach. [ He tugs her forward. Her head dips, searching for a treat that isn't there. His expression is fond as he pats her neck. ] She's easier on the eyes.

[ But more prone to kicking, unlike Cid, who seemed resigned to children pulling on his tail. He wonders if the man misses them. The children who were never really his. There was a time Geralt experienced the same—a girl he thought he found, then lost when he awoke. How do you grieve someone created inside your mind? ]

[judgmentbolts]

[ It's funny, Cid finds himself matching that faint twitch of the lips to the way his ear might flick in his other form.

He'd never thought of how accustomed he'd become to the Hideaway and those who had been friends of the cause — friends of his. He hasn't been such a stranger to the world since he'd first stumbled off a ship and and into the Twins. Despite the strangeness of the circumstances, there's something nice about the easy familiarity.

He knows so little about Geralt beyond his character, but he knows that he cares for that horse. It certainly got more respect than Cid did from the gaggle of curious children... who weren't real. ]

For you, sure. [ He shoots back, amusement coloring his tone even as the smile fades. He rests his wrist against the hilt of his hunting knife, his gaze still on the horse. ] She's looking no worse for the wear. She's really the same one from before? [ Or is it after? Gods, he's not going to think about it. Geralt will know what he means. ] Is she your egi?

[ Cid's brow furrows. He understands that horses are like chocobos here, a common beast of burden, but that doesn't mean they can't be anything else in a land so rife with magic... Magic wielded by people who are neither Dominants nor Bearers. He hadn't understood why some of Geralt's abilities had been so familiar in the dream, but he remembers now.

Belatedly, he adds: ] — A magical construct, of sorts.

[ Closed ] Viktor

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid is restless. After they'd all woken up in that crater, he'd holed up in his inn room for a day or so to mull things over, trying to get his head settled again. When that hadn't helped, he'd gone out and tried to make himself useful somewhere. He's spent three whole days trying to do something else before he washes up on Viktor's doorstep again. Even in the middle of the day, the doors were still locked, but Cid has never let a thing like that stop him. He does knock, in his defense. He picks the lock after Viktor doesn't answer and lets himself in without a fuss. ]

Viktor! [ Never let it be said that Cid's bellow couldn't reach the entire deck of a ship in a storm. Since he's already broken in, it seems like the least he can do is ensure that Viktor knows he's not a thief, though he can't imagine that this is more reassuring. ] I'll be getting some work done, if it's all the same to you. You're welcome to join me.

[ He sets a basket down on the tiny kitchen counter. He's brought a few fresh things for the pantry, since he doubts that Viktor has done any restocking for himself. As far as he knows, the man isn't a machine anymore, and still needed to do things like eat. ]

[techmaturgy]

[Viktor, despite his penchant to work far more than any human should, has been known to close down Rio operations on occasion. It's usually when he simply does not want to deal with the interpersonal aspects of having employees and running a business, neither of which sound very appealing to him coming out of their shared, 800-year hallucination. It's easier, as always, to dive back into his projects (now three weeks behind) and do his best to insulate himself from the world outside his workshop.

Suffice to say he ignores the first knock. And the second. But soon enough he hears the sound of someone tooling around with the lock on his door, and that is a little more difficult to let slide. He's slow to get up on a good day, and Cid is already inside before he manages to haul himself off his stool. The volume with which Cid announces himself gives Viktor a full-body cringe. He is simply not equipped to deal with this right now.]

We're closed. You have the week off.

[Not that he expects that to deter him, given the fact that he seems to have brought groceries, but he has to try.]

Now I have to replace the lock.

[judgmentbolts]

Contract says I can work whenever I want.

[ The contract might very well not say that at all. Does Cid even have a contract? Unclear.

He's not even looking up from putting the groceries away in the little kitchenette. ]

Stop your fussing, I'll replace the lock on the way out. Do you want any tea? I don't know about you, but I've been sleeping like shit...

[techmaturgy]

There's no--nevermind.

[He has learned quickly that Cid will generally not be deterred, and it's often easier to just let him happen, rather than expend energy trying to get him to do what he wants. If he wants to stock the kitchenette, fine. Viktor will not be partaking, though if it's out of principle or because he still has no appetite is unclear.]

I have some.

[Viktor doesn't look up from his current activity (welding one thing to another thing, probably), and gestures vaguely to the mug nearby. It is most certainly cold.]

[judgmentbolts]

On your right. [ He waits until Viktor's done with the weld — despite his teasing, he's not one to shirk workshop safety — and then replaces his teacup with another. (It's not Viktor's tea, for once. Cid has picked up some local artisanal nonsense, an amber-colored liquid that smells of bergamot and honey.) A plate appears beside the teacup, laden with buns stuffed with meat and vegetables. Cid takes one for himself, stuffs it into his mouth, and wanders off to find something to work on.

He ends up at one of the drafting tables, unrolling a fresh sheet of paper. He actually finishes what he's eating before he launches into conversation, although he picks up as if there was never a lapse of silence between them. ] You know what your problem is, Viktor? You're too nice by far.

[ Open ] Free Cities - Cadens

[judgmentbolts]

( ooc: feel free to assume they might have run into each other once or twice during the event if that's useful. if you want to discuss further event details to handwave i'm still open to that too — just DM this journal or message me @ themightysra on plurk/discord. )

[ For a few weeks after their return, Cid can be found around Cadens; rather than helping with the repairs, he's opted to check in on people who don't have so much as a house to be repaired. He'll be dropping off meals or what coin he can spare, which isn't ever enough; he'd certainly welcome anyone who seemed interested in helping. If meal delivery isn't their thing, they might find him in the hills between cities, setting snares for small game or collecting anything he's managed to catch. The only weapon he's carrying is a hunting knife, but there aren't usually bandits this close to the cities... right?

Once Rio Enterprises is properly open again, Cid can be found inside throughout the day. He'll be pouring over diagrams and making adjustments, inspecting parts, and working on various projects. He doesn't greet anyone who comes through the door, but they might be unfortunate enough to be suddenly roped into whatever he's working on, whether they actually work here or not. Did you NOT want to stand there with a bag full of tools and hand him things? Well, that's rough buddy.

If you're fortunate or assertive enough to avoid that particular fate, Cid is also happy to walk anyone through the more approachable steps of whatever he's building and teach them how to do some of it themselves; despite how brusque he can be normally, he's a particularly patient teacher. He might ask for a hand with the nuances of New Magic at times, even so — his memories are fuzzy, and the details elude him often.

Toward the evening, he'll break away from work entirely. He'll approach anyone who's still hanging around the shop, wiping the grease off his hands as he speaks. ] That's good enough for a day's work. Up for a drink?

[ Cid can be found at any of the nearby taverns in the evening, usually drinking and chatting with the locals. He's curious about the rumors of soldiers moving toward Aquilla and what people think of it, but he's careful of how he phrases his questions, keeping them superficially casual. Should he recognize anyone he knows from their recent journey into godhood, or even just a fellow summoned in general, he'll wave them over (or saunter over to wherever they are). ] We haven't met before, have we? Can't be sure of bloody anything lately.

workshop stuff

[ancunin]

[ Rio Enterprises most valuable employee has been out for a week or two, having come down with sudden vampiric banes after eight centuries.

The door to the workshop will open as Cid is in the middle of whatever project he happens to be working on. Walking inside is a pale man dressed in rather fine clothes - clearly not here for work. Cid might notice his pointed ears, or maybe even the sharpened fangs when he opens his mouth to speak, both eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. ]

Um - hello there... what are you doing?

[ Touching everything.

After a moment he squints as he looks Cid over without any attempt at subtly.

Is he supposed to know who this is? With a deep sigh he looks over Cid's shoulder and yells: ]

- ooohhhh Viktor? I wish you would let me knoooow when you've invited strange men to touch your tools...

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid isn't doing anything particularly exciting at the moment, just dismantling some spare respirators so that the parts can be reused. He's glad enough for a break in the monotony that he actually looks up when someone saunters in. ]

Living dangerously. [ He yawns into his fist. ] What's it look like?

[ Before their little shared nightmare, he'd have found the ears and the teeth to be passing strange. Now, he doesn't think he'll ever be surprised by anything again.

Still, he returns the scrutiny. Posh, this one. Doesn't seem like Viktor's usual type, but what does he know? ]

In his defense, I invited myself. He's just too nice to be rid of me. [ He rubs at the back of his neck, trying to roll some of the tension out of his shoulders before he pushes himself to his feet. ] He's all yours, if you can track him down — hell if I know where he's tucked himself away this time.

Or... [ He inclines his head. ] I can give you a hand, if you like. It'll be faster than all that.

[ancunin]

[ Astarion raises an eyebrow, but otherwise continues on into the workshop as if there'd never been an interruption in the first place. ]

That does sound right. [ oh-so-dryly. With a sigh he glances up, figuring Viktor is home and just RUDELY IGNORING HIM, but he's not going to continue yelling or otherwise make another attempt to get him to come downstairs. There's the slightest touch of concern in his expression, there and gone. ]

I thought he might like to go on a little excursion to the mining camp. Get some fresh - well, dusty desert air, but alas...

[ He shrugs, stepping around to some of those boxes with spare respirators, seemingly taking stock of things. He's trying to figure out what supplies to bring, both for himself and to deliver - it'll be nearly a two day trip without access to a portal. Ugh. ]

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid catches the slight change in his expression, if only because he's still trying to suss out exactly who this man is and what he wants here. Viktor isn't one to enjoy being fussed over, even on the occasions where it might very well be warranted. It seems like this man already knows that well. Poor sod.

A friend of Viktor's, then. A colleague, in fact. ]

He'll come around. Even Viktor can't stay holed up forever. [ Cid claps him on the shoulder as he moves past. He means for it to be comforting, though Cid's idea of casual contact isn't always well received. ] I could use a change of scenery, and I haven't been out to the camp yet. How long d'you think we'll be gone?

[ Cid is already taking things down from the shelves, sorting through what supplies they might need for the road.

Was he even really invited? It simply doesn't matter because Cid has now invited himself. ]

hills.

[exuviage]

[ Its getting warmer and warmer in the deserts. Winter is long gone, and spring is on the way out the door as well. Thankfully the nights are still comfortable and early in the morning the paving stones Cadens are still cool. Afternoons, less so.

Dan Heng may be protected from some of the worst effects of various types of weather thanks to the Trailblaze, but it doesn't mean he's suited for them. He almost regrets leaving Solvunn and its damp sea breezes behind, but a Nameless will always choose to follow the compass of destiny into the unknown over the things that are familiar. And in this case, the unknown is the hills surrounding Cadens that still have a riot of flowers growing in the small canyons where winter streams carved out their course and the floods of the previous month's storms nurtured them further. Some even still have water in them, like this one; a healthy, if small, spring feeding a waterfall that pours down over a rocky face and collects in a deep pond. It's probably a good place to fish, if the water manages to flow year-round. But Dan Heng's main interest is in the exposed sediment layers next to the waterfall and finding own samples of the last spring blooms to take drawings of in his notebook.

And, maybe, also just being able to walk, fully clothed, into a body of water without anyone else around to judge when it starts to get too hot.

When Cid rounds the last rocky outcropping leading to the plunge pool and the snare hidden by a game track in the flowers, Dan Heng is still standing in the water up to his waist, one hand shielding his gaze from the afternoon sun and ready to pull his spear out if the visitor is unfriendly. But the face on the man rounding the canyon wall is still somewhat recognizable to him Lord Mister Uncle Ramuh, whom Dan Heng is belatedly realizing was the guy he had met in the Barracks months ago during his observation period, and he relaxes once more. That's a relief. ]

... Hi.

[ It's a familiar face, yes, but this kind of situation is also exactly why he doesn't climb into the fountains in town when it starts to get uncomfortably warm. Man. That fake timeline really did a number on his "act human" skills, and that's his excuse, thank you. ]

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid had discovered the pool entirely by chance when he'd first come out to set snares. A source of water was a likely gathering place for animals, and a good halfway point to refresh himself in the otherwise unpleasant heat.

He's not entirely surprised to find someone else there at this time of day — it's the familiarity that stops him short. Two sets of memories overlap: a young man he'd met in the barracks when he'd first arrived, and a very serious child prone to wandering far from his parents' indulgent gaze. Cid would find him every now and again, his clothing drenched in water or mud that he seemed not to notice, very carefully inspecting a frog or a plant. He'd never cared much for the heat then, either. ]

Yinyue? [ Cid moves toward the edge of the pond, crouching near the muddy bank. A part of him still wants to ask do your parents know where you are?

He can't imagine how much stranger it must be for the young man. ] Or is it Dan Heng? You'll have to forgive me if my memory's a bit of mess.

[exuviage]

[ Behind him, Dan Heng's boots are tossed haphazardly on a large flat stone at the far edge of the pond, falling in a way that suggests the decision to wade into the water, mud and all, had been an impulsive one but not so impulsive that he was willing to risk ruining perfectly decent leather. His notebook lies open, more carefully placed, with a few small stones holding pages open to dry the fresh ink on the pages in the sun. Like that first appearance in the barracks, he seems to carry all his worldly possessions with him, regardless of his destination -- and it's not much.

Standing here like this, being addressed by that name, Dan Heng desperately wishes he could just sink under the surface and wait and wait, until he was alone again. But his stuff, which he worked so hard to get, and his reputation as a normal human, which he would especially like to maintain, are more important. ]

It's okay — just Dan Heng is fine.

[ A small memory of a hot summer day floats to the surface of his mind for a moment. Dan Heng can recall the sun beating high over head, and Yinyue running inside to take his mother's cold hands and press his face into them when he started to get too warm. He remembers Ramuh standing there with her, in the kitchen, talking about... something. He can't recall what—nothing important to a child god, certainly—and then when he was sufficiently cool he'd run off again to find Torgal and go ambling down into the woods. On his way out the door, Ramuh had ruffled his hair in a way much like his father did; a full palm on the top of his skull, the motion gently rocking his head back and forth with playful roughness. It's soft at the edges like a dream, but he remembers the gentle cold, the weight of a palm, his brain filling in the sensations of things that never happened with surprising realness. Dan Heng sifts through the memory for a moment, and then lets it finish flowing by as he digs deeper, for a conversation that he had fully forgotten long before that summer afternoon that never happened. ]

You're... Cid, right? You were summoned right before... all of that.

[judgmentbolts]

[ He nods — Dan Heng it is.

Cid is plenty curious about the other name. Though the dream is hardly to be trusted, many of the people he's spoken to so far have admitted that there was some half-truth to the things that happened and the people they became. The names, especially, mean something to them.

He files it away for the moment. ]

You have the right of it, aye. [ He tugs his gloves off, setting them beside Dan Heng's things, and settles on his knees to rinse his hands in the cool water. ]

And I remember our kind hosts weren't lenient as your... [ Cid pauses, clears his throat. Gods, this is going to take some getting accustomed to. ] They seemed as if they wanted to keep a close eye on you. Have they eased up as yet, or are you due back in the barracks again before nightfall?

meal delivery

[assembles]

[ While it's taken a few days to let everything that's happened (or not happened, as the case may be) sink in, and to adjust to an old-new body that needs to do things like sleep and eat, Steve also realizes that time is marching forward. Steadily, but in a way where it feels like every moment counts, unlike his supposed time as a god where it felt like a month or even a year could pass in the blink of an eye.

Those gaps are even more proof that none of it was real in any significant way, although he also isn't going to completely brush it off. If nothing else, it felt like some kind of cautionary tale, and he's set on making sure they don't follow in those footsteps now that reality has reasserted itself.

Nonetheless, while they were all busy thinking they'd become gods, the storm had raged on and the people of Abraxas had to pay the price. It's grounding to return to what he'd been busy with before that eight hundred year interlude, if he's honest.

So he'd worked with Mag to put some care packages together, mainly foodstuffs along with any medical supplies that Nadine and her clinic could spare, and now he's on the move throughout the city delivering them to people in need.

He steps out of a dwelling that's seen better days, having already promised to come back with some construction materials to patch up the roof, when he almost bumps right into someone else who's stopped by with a hot meal. Steve stops sort so that he doesn't cause Cid to drop the carefully packed food all over the ground. ]

Sorry—

[ But right... Cid. Memories flood in, both their first real meeting out in the barracks and then everything else that supposedly happens in their future. (Doubt.) A clash against a particularly fearsome demigod is what stands out with the most clarity.

Steve gives a shake of his head, as if to brush that all away. ]

... Guess neither of us knows how to sit still, huh?

[judgmentbolts]

[ If he was feeling more himself, Cid might have thought to do more coordinating with the local Summoned, if not the authorities, specifically to avoid situations like this. There's no real harm in the two of them visiting the same family when food is such a finite resource, but it's an inefficient way to go about things, and he ought to know better. Truth be told, he just hasn't had the wherewithal to think about it.

Cid stops as well, shifting his grip to counteract the sloshing of hot liquid inside of the containers with the kind of thoughtlessness that comes from too many years at sea. ] No harm done— Ah, it's you.

[ He's glad to see a familiar face, at least, though it takes him a moment to piece two different sets of memories together. He offers a wry smile in response. ] Well, at least we know that much of it was true. Finished here?

[ He steps back to allow Steve to move out of the way more easily. ] Steve, isn't it? Stick around for a minute if you haven't got anywhere else to be.

[ He ducks inside to drop off the containers. When he comes back out, he rests his wrist against the canteen strapped to his hip, his gaze following a few uniformed soldiers as they hurry past. ] I've worked up an appetite myself. What do you think? Shall we see to our own stomachs while we're at it?

[ In truth, he hasn't had much of an appetite at all between the memories and the heat, but he has no doubt that Steve will see it for the excuse that it is. Their first meeting here was real enough, and Cid means to follow up on that sooner rather than later. ]

[assembles]

[ Steve does have other places to be, but that's pretty much the norm for him and it's nothing so urgent that he can't pause and wait to speak with Cid now that they've run into each other. Reaching out to fellow Summoned he has fake memories of feels like something he'll need to do slowly, bit by bit, but he won't pass up this chance.

Cid doesn't take too long inside, all things considered, and Steve glances back to him as soon as he steps out. Both of them turn to look at the passing soldiers in unison, he can't help but notice.

As for his appetite, it's been a strange thing. He didn't need to eat for so long, or so his implanted memories tell him, but now he's back in a human body with an inhumanly fast metabolism.

In other words: he needs to eat. ]

Sounds good. I can take you back to the inn if you want. If it's too crowded, we can always eat in my room.

[ It's where they had originally planned to meet up again, if his memory isn't failing him. So without further ado, he heads back in the direction of the inn with long, confident strides, expecting Cid to follow. ]

I don't know if we remember all the same things. Not sure if "remember" is even the right word. Have you been comparing notes with people?

[ He might as well get right into it, like a knife straight to the heart of the matter. ]

combo-ing it up here~

[thedreamer]

[ Without explicitly coordinating between the two of them, Cid and the Doctor continue to be quite aligned in how they go about their daily lives. For the Doctor, it helps that he rarely needs actual sleep, so he keeps perhaps a bit busier than most, though most of his days since their return from The Incident have been spent predictably embroiled in helping others as much as he can. He's grown close with various caretakers of the orphanages here, particularly around Libertas, and he spends time keeping both the children and their guardians fed (to the best of his abilities), while repairing as much storm damage as possible. Somewhere in there, he keeps up with his academic studies, but he's been volunteering at Portam Hall as well. While it is meant to help, it's dual purpose in that he wants to learn as much as he can about military goings-on and political maneuvers being undertaken.

It's in his nature to stay busy; in fact, the literal act of sitting down for a long stretch tends to get him feeling too fidgety and fussy, like a coiled spring begging release.

As evening approaches, he's planning to make his way back to the Inn for a bit just to socialize, though he'll be out and about again when night falls. Passing by Rio Enterprises, he's quick to poke his head in, meaning to say hello to Viktor, though he's more than pleased to find Cid there, building...something. Oh, that's good, that's excellent — whatever it is, he's always eager to see what new delights one's mind has conjured. The Doctor is fairly unphased by what happened (at least on the surface) — troubled more in quiet moments alone — and eager simply to catch up with an "old" new friend and get back to business here. Rubbing his hands together briefly with delight, he steps inside just barely, leaning against the doorframe. ]

You're not calling it a done evening already, are you?

[ While he appreciates the offer of a drink, he's more eager to pick Cid's mind about what he's building, and...a few other things of late. They'll have plenty of time for filling in details of what they've been up to, he's sure. Should his company not be shrugged off, the Doctor could latch on for hours quite easily. ]

Miss me? Of course you did, don't worry. No awkward pauses between friends here.

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid liked to joke that he would sleep when he was dead, but the truth of the matter is that he's gotten no more sleep here than he did back home. Between the work that needs to be done during the day, and slowly making his way through catching up with everyone he's 'met', he'd expected death to be a little less eventful, all told. He's glad for the many opportunities for distraction — better to bury himself in work than stew on the more personal horrors of the event.

During his rounds delivering food, he could have sworn he'd caught a glimpse of the Doctor somewhere across the way, but pinning him down is hardly an easy feat when he's there and gone in the blink of an eye. Cid had promised himself he would try to reach out over the network, but of course the Doctor appears to save him the trouble just when he finally has the time. Even out of the dream, the man seems to have a knack for knowing when to show up.

Cid leaves off the diagram he's working on — a small device that the Doctor might recognize as a battery — and walks over to greet him. It seems as if the Doctor is a bit less sparkly than he was before, but just the same otherwise. ]

Well, if you've a mind to keep me company, I could be convinced to keep on. [ He winks, then offers a hand. ] Good to see you again — is it still 'Doctor'?

[thedreamer]

[ In that false reality, for a little while, there was a blissful absence of the weight of loss, the reminders of making the worst of choices and knowing in the end, he's always alone with it. He prides himself on being the optimist, the dreamer of dreams, but he'd been able to really live it fully in that illusion. It's no less true now with his memories returned, his stubborn and persistent way of believing the best of people and situations and clinging to hope, but there are shadows there in his hearts again, and some of those shadows might pass through his eyes like a flicker and can be seen by the most astute of people.

But he's always quick with a smile, a joke, a bit of silliness and banter and joy. And always happy to see a friend. Of course, anyone he's had a briefly positive interaction with is a friend to him, so that does get a bit broad at times.

The Doctor is quick to move forward and shake Cid's hand in return, nodding eagerly and brightening more noticeably as he glimpses the project being worked on. ]

Doctor, yes. Cid, yes? Battery — very yes! Look at that beauty, oh what have you got here — [ Forgive him, Cid. He's quick to drop the other man's hand in favor of studying the device more closely, absolutely beaming as though he's been given the most wonderful news. It's a genuine delight, and he's happy to see something being created here that he both understands and would be eager to play with himself. Absently, he does look back up at Cid — ]

And good to see you again, of course. We could be up all hours here, now you've got me effectively rooted. Not that I'll turn down a drink later, of course.

[ Still, still after all this time, the Doctor thinks he's any better at having acquired a taste for any sort of liquor at all. But he'll still try anything in the right company. ]