And once again, Cid woke up to a sensation akin to that of a hangover without much memory as to why. He remembered going after Rufus with the rest of AVALANCHE (and thought back on it one more time to assure himself it hadn't been some weirdo nightmare), but how they'd fared in their endeavor and how the hell they'd gotten out of there was a little more fuzzy.
Not that missing time and vague memories were anything new in this place, and though those two points of interest have been extremely worrying in his home world, they were only mildly concerning here.
Didn't mean he had to be happy about it, though.
Cid responded to the intercom's announcement (and, subsequently, the nurse standing at his door) with little more than muttered curses and a couple of grunts. He was taken to the Sun Room because hey, the whole talking-to-God thing wasn't really his gig if it wasn't some symbolic slice of alien that he had to kill, and besides, he'd get to the cafeteria quicker that way once they opened the doors for brunch. (They had tea at brunch, and fuck if he wasn't going to take advantage of that small leisure.)
Still, as he scanned the faces in the crowd and still found no hide nor hair of Vincent, the mild concern deepened to cold dread. It had been a hell of a long time since he'd seen the guy, and while having a bunch of other old friends around was nice, it would have been nicer if his old Landel's-buddy had been there as well.
In any case, Cid wasn't much in a conversational mood. Like any other hangover, lights were too bright and sounds were too loud, so he resigned himself to laying down on one of the couches and closing his eyes until they were offered some goddamn food.
no subject
Not that missing time and vague memories were anything new in this place, and though those two points of interest have been extremely worrying in his home world, they were only mildly concerning here.
Didn't mean he had to be happy about it, though.
Cid responded to the intercom's announcement (and, subsequently, the nurse standing at his door) with little more than muttered curses and a couple of grunts. He was taken to the Sun Room because hey, the whole talking-to-God thing wasn't really his gig if it wasn't some symbolic slice of alien that he had to kill, and besides, he'd get to the cafeteria quicker that way once they opened the doors for brunch. (They had tea at brunch, and fuck if he wasn't going to take advantage of that small leisure.)
Still, as he scanned the faces in the crowd and still found no hide nor hair of Vincent, the mild concern deepened to cold dread. It had been a hell of a long time since he'd seen the guy, and while having a bunch of other old friends around was nice, it would have been nicer if his old Landel's-buddy had been there as well.
In any case, Cid wasn't much in a conversational mood. Like any other hangover, lights were too bright and sounds were too loud, so he resigned himself to laying down on one of the couches and closing his eyes until they were offered some goddamn food.