[ Walking the streets of Cadens in the middle of the night doesn't hold the same calm for him it normally does, and does Claude ever resent that. Since arriving he's relied on these walks now and then to shuffle his thoughts like a deck of cards, pulling different ones out to examine now and then before putting them back. But now his mind is too scrambled, too full of everything and nothing and stretched thin between said thoughts and what to do, if there's anything more to be doing than volunteering here and there. He finds no answers tonight.
The chill in the air is what convinces him to give up for tonight and when he makes it back to Mag's finally, it's even later. Claude slips in through the tavern's door but then stands in the middle of the main room, hesitating. He doesn't want to go upstairs yet, which really only leaves one place to hang around.
Claude pours himself an ale, makes a mental note to bring the coins for it plus some extra to Mag in the morning, and takes a seat at the bar. Unfortunately, he's also chosen to sit by the stacks of clean glasses ready for opening tomorrow, and their angles show him both the dimming fire in the hearth and his reflection. He switches to looking at his drink until his reflection appears there. Never mind - he'll stare at the bartop instead.
It's too similar to the nightmares, Claude thinks to himself, fingers tracing over a gouge from a knife in the wood. Except now he doesn't fear being asleep, now it's all during waking hours. He's not sure which is worse. Maybe that makes it more fitting Gronder is once again haunting him when there's footsteps descending the stairs nearby. Maybe he isn't that surprised to look up and see Sylvain as if his thoughts had somehow brought him here. ]
You look rather cheerful.
[ He'd tried to say it as a tease but it lacks any of his own cheer, apparently unable to force that currently. That statement could be abrasive were it not for Claude knowing he looks every bit as weary as he sounds as if to say, me too. So. What better way to make up for it than to reach for one of those mugs and over the bar to get a drink ready for Sylvain, too. ]
— sylvain
The chill in the air is what convinces him to give up for tonight and when he makes it back to Mag's finally, it's even later. Claude slips in through the tavern's door but then stands in the middle of the main room, hesitating. He doesn't want to go upstairs yet, which really only leaves one place to hang around.
Claude pours himself an ale, makes a mental note to bring the coins for it plus some extra to Mag in the morning, and takes a seat at the bar. Unfortunately, he's also chosen to sit by the stacks of clean glasses ready for opening tomorrow, and their angles show him both the dimming fire in the hearth and his reflection. He switches to looking at his drink until his reflection appears there. Never mind - he'll stare at the bartop instead.
It's too similar to the nightmares, Claude thinks to himself, fingers tracing over a gouge from a knife in the wood. Except now he doesn't fear being asleep, now it's all during waking hours. He's not sure which is worse. Maybe that makes it more fitting Gronder is once again haunting him when there's footsteps descending the stairs nearby. Maybe he isn't that surprised to look up and see Sylvain as if his thoughts had somehow brought him here. ]
You look rather cheerful.
[ He'd tried to say it as a tease but it lacks any of his own cheer, apparently unable to force that currently. That statement could be abrasive were it not for Claude knowing he looks every bit as weary as he sounds as if to say, me too. So. What better way to make up for it than to reach for one of those mugs and over the bar to get a drink ready for Sylvain, too. ]