It should be a given by now, or so Sylvain thinks, yet he agrees with a quick 'got it.' all the same before he tucks his compass into a pocket. The next... oh, hour-ish, is spent asking around the Court and visiting Ashe's usual haunts in hopes of spotting a familiar head of silver hair poking out from behind a book, or a baking tray, or, like, anything else, really! But once it becomes undeniably clear that his search is coming up fruitless, he directs himself towards Kyst, pushing past the uneasiness twisting and knotting itself in his stomach.
He opts to use the mirrors rather than ride, favoring the immediacy over staying too long in his own head. It still takes some time to traverse the roads to their shared destination, even with his hastened step--however, true to his word, he steps through the doors well before his two hour promise can be broken. Finding a familiar face in the crowd comes easily enough; he'll speak up only once he draws a bit closer to Felix's table.
"Hey."
Where he might normally sound cheery--maybe even tease Felix for starting before him when his eyes fall to the mug in his hands--Sylvain instead sounds... distracted? Only mildly so, granted, but paired with the small quirk of his lips he offers instead of a grin, and the relative silence as he sheds his cloak (because SOME of us aren't heathens, priorities be damned) and settles into the seat opposite, it's obvious he's not the bearer of any good news.
"...No one's heard from him," he says, simply. It's easier to let his attention settle more on Felix's mug than Felix himself while he pieces this all together, and maybe tries to focus on JUST the situation at hand and not whatever possibilities it might bring with it! "He hasn't been in the kitchens today, or the library."
[The biggest pro (and biggest con) of sitting alone with his mug of mulled wine: Felix has plenty of time to think things through, which means that, by the time Sylvain drops into the seat across from him, Felix is... hmm. It's not that he was expecting anything good to begin with? It's not like he expected to actually uncover anything in Kyst to begin with, really, but doing is better than idly sitting by—and his wild goose chase has given him more than enough time to come to terms with this... uncertainty. Shit sucks, bruh, but what's new.]
Hm. [A quiet noise of acknowledgement as Felix turns the mug in his hands, simply savoring the warmth for a moment before bluntly adding:] So he's gone.
[Back... home, perhaps. Hopefully. Felix, however, is too cynical to just easily accept such a thing; there's always the possibility that one of the higher powers in this place plucked Ashe away to do who knows what, but...
...Well. Instead of throwing that out there for Sylvain to enjoy, Felix finally looks up, openly studying the other man's face as he tries to determine how, exactly, Sylvain is handling this. There's no need to hide what he's doing here? Nor is there any need to look away if—when—Sylvain returns the favor, because they both know that Sylvain can read Felix far better than most; he'll see past Felix's impassive expression in a second, sharp eyes picking up on the way he's tightly pressing his lips together, on the way he's holding his mug so tightly his knuckles are turning white. No, he isn't pleased with this... but it's fine to allow a bit of that emotion to come through right here, right now, because it's Sylvain who'll pick up on it.]
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He opts to use the mirrors rather than ride, favoring the immediacy over staying too long in his own head. It still takes some time to traverse the roads to their shared destination, even with his hastened step--however, true to his word, he steps through the doors well before his two hour promise can be broken. Finding a familiar face in the crowd comes easily enough; he'll speak up only once he draws a bit closer to Felix's table.
"Hey."
Where he might normally sound cheery--maybe even tease Felix for starting before him when his eyes fall to the mug in his hands--Sylvain instead sounds... distracted? Only mildly so, granted, but paired with the small quirk of his lips he offers instead of a grin, and the relative silence as he sheds his cloak (because SOME of us aren't heathens, priorities be damned) and settles into the seat opposite, it's obvious he's not the bearer of any good news.
"...No one's heard from him," he says, simply. It's easier to let his attention settle more on Felix's mug than Felix himself while he pieces this all together, and maybe tries to focus on JUST the situation at hand and not whatever possibilities it might bring with it! "He hasn't been in the kitchens today, or the library."
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Hm. [A quiet noise of acknowledgement as Felix turns the mug in his hands, simply savoring the warmth for a moment before bluntly adding:] So he's gone.
[Back... home, perhaps. Hopefully. Felix, however, is too cynical to just easily accept such a thing; there's always the possibility that one of the higher powers in this place plucked Ashe away to do who knows what, but...
...Well. Instead of throwing that out there for Sylvain to enjoy, Felix finally looks up, openly studying the other man's face as he tries to determine how, exactly, Sylvain is handling this. There's no need to hide what he's doing here? Nor is there any need to look away if—when—Sylvain returns the favor, because they both know that Sylvain can read Felix far better than most; he'll see past Felix's impassive expression in a second, sharp eyes picking up on the way he's tightly pressing his lips together, on the way he's holding his mug so tightly his knuckles are turning white. No, he isn't pleased with this... but it's fine to allow a bit of that emotion to come through right here, right now, because it's Sylvain who'll pick up on it.]