Vayne Carudas Solidor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cruentatafoedus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
concordance_logs2015-02-25 07:47 pm
cruentatafoedus) wrote in concordance_logs2015-02-25 07:47 pm
Entry tags:
[Pirated Tea | Locked to Dr. Cid]
Characters: Vayne Carudas Solidor, Dr. Cidolfus Demen Bunansa
Where: Balfonheim port
When: 24th Blackfrost/February, closer to early afternoon
What: A tea party
Warnings: Cid and Vayne, two of Ivalice's primary antagonists sharing tea and gossip? What more warning do you need?
The day is brighter, warmer at these later hours, and so calm despite the portent from earlier of a Terrible Thing having been done yet again. Vayne feels if anyone is to blame for the ruckus, it should indeed be the High Seraph as is her rightful claim to all things that seem to want to upend the plans he died for those four years ago. He sits in a partially covered terrace with a stunning example of what could be considered some amount of class for the place, one part of a larger restaurant boasting fare he has deemed palatable. He has altered his disguise just enough so the sun can touch his paled skin. From his vantage point he can see many things, many places, many faces, but better still is the soft lull of the ocean, a surprising joy to behold after so long spent inland. Even on his trips to and from Jylland o'er the sea he has taken little time to sit and breathe, though as with all pirates and ports they make more noise than he cares for.
Here and there he notes Archadian Imperials, some observing, others forging ahead with business deals, and some doing what he can only assume is the business of the 9th though he feels the Captain would never own up to it. They stick out like the threat of unspent violence, soiling the cuff, and nearly the smell of the tea.
While he awaits Cid's inevitable appearance, he watches the curl of steam from the spout of the pot, piecing together in his mind the events which have come to trouble him. The good Doctor had always been useful to Vayne's plans, his studies and interests thankfully coinciding, and though, indeed, many called him mad, he had survived and outwitted many over the years before even the young lord himself had been any sort of self propelled force in the courts in Archades. He could be intimidating, humorous, tasteless, crafty, misleading, tenacious - really, he was everything the Solidor knew to respect, and after some traits, even admire.
He tests the tea, pouring a little into his cup, then removing the strainer with practiced grace.
Still no sign of the Doctor. Oh well, better not let the drink go to waste. The once Emperor sips, letting his gaze meander once more.
Where: Balfonheim port
When: 24th Blackfrost/February, closer to early afternoon
What: A tea party
Warnings: Cid and Vayne, two of Ivalice's primary antagonists sharing tea and gossip? What more warning do you need?
The day is brighter, warmer at these later hours, and so calm despite the portent from earlier of a Terrible Thing having been done yet again. Vayne feels if anyone is to blame for the ruckus, it should indeed be the High Seraph as is her rightful claim to all things that seem to want to upend the plans he died for those four years ago. He sits in a partially covered terrace with a stunning example of what could be considered some amount of class for the place, one part of a larger restaurant boasting fare he has deemed palatable. He has altered his disguise just enough so the sun can touch his paled skin. From his vantage point he can see many things, many places, many faces, but better still is the soft lull of the ocean, a surprising joy to behold after so long spent inland. Even on his trips to and from Jylland o'er the sea he has taken little time to sit and breathe, though as with all pirates and ports they make more noise than he cares for.
Here and there he notes Archadian Imperials, some observing, others forging ahead with business deals, and some doing what he can only assume is the business of the 9th though he feels the Captain would never own up to it. They stick out like the threat of unspent violence, soiling the cuff, and nearly the smell of the tea.
While he awaits Cid's inevitable appearance, he watches the curl of steam from the spout of the pot, piecing together in his mind the events which have come to trouble him. The good Doctor had always been useful to Vayne's plans, his studies and interests thankfully coinciding, and though, indeed, many called him mad, he had survived and outwitted many over the years before even the young lord himself had been any sort of self propelled force in the courts in Archades. He could be intimidating, humorous, tasteless, crafty, misleading, tenacious - really, he was everything the Solidor knew to respect, and after some traits, even admire.
He tests the tea, pouring a little into his cup, then removing the strainer with practiced grace.
Still no sign of the Doctor. Oh well, better not let the drink go to waste. The once Emperor sips, letting his gaze meander once more.
no subject
Now there's much about the good doctor that the average man wouldn't know. Doctor Cid, for better or for worse, is always prepared. Even after becoming chairman at the prestigious Draklor Laboratory, Cidolfus never trusted the facilities well enough to store away the brunt of his research there. Heavens, no! After living under the thumb of the Senate and Emperor Gramis's whimsies for one too many years; Cidolfus constructed a secret lab within the heart of the Cerobi Steppe.
By all means, this mock laboratory isn't any fancy. It's merely a study that serves as a library for everything the good doctor couldn't possibly commit to memory. Though, it should be noted that here at his hidden laboratory is where Cid found another change of clothes, a few weapons (firearms, no less) and few notes on his previous research.
"Hm?" A faint hum escapes the doctor's lips as he glances around this less than cozy tavern. There's more cutthroats than pirates here, but he can seldom tell the difference between the two. "Far too many barflies and twice as many more whores, I see." Cidolfus grumbles as he adjusts the bronze frames upon his face. Despite being resurrected by none other than the High Seraph herself, Cidolfus's poor eyesight remains the same. Without these thinly framed spectacles, the good doctor would be as helpless as a babe.
no subject
As he rises to garner Cid's attention from the innermost parts of the establishment, he feels an aching memory of nethicite inlay into his very flesh and bones. It does not stop his voice from warmth, "My friend!" The Solidor takes care to push from the table entirely, strong strides taking him to Cid's side. "Your vision failed you yet wherein Siegfried goes unnoticed?" There's a click to his tongue, but he offers the older man a bow of his head, perhaps less than his station truly demanded but in these circumstances he is sure the scientist will not mind. They are both men who are not exactly what they were before. "A pain fills my breast, sir."
no subject
Curiously cocking up his brow, the good doctor makes his way towards Vayne with a slight smile upon his lips. "Taking advantage of the elongated daylight, I see." Cidolfus remarks with a chuckle. "That's good, that's good! I had feared that my summons to Balfonheim wouldn't sit to well with you." Cid's smile dims a little but only by a notch. He's in good spirits despite the gravity of their plight. After all, there's a whole slew of people who would love to see them dead.
"Now tell me, is the tea here as horrid as I fear it to be?"