[There is something so funny about Felix trusting Sylvain to piece things together... and Sylvain suggesting that a hand just fell off his magical clock?? Anyway: Felix does not find that funny, but less because it's Sylvain grasping at straws and more because it's Sylvain obviously being as lost as he is. That... is not a good sign for things to come, but as he reads and re-reads that question, he forces himself to bite back his frustration. There's no need to actually answer it. They both know that.
And Felix knows that all he can do... is wait for Sylvain to send him more information, because that stupid question aside, he trusts Sylvain to look into this since he can't? Which is a trust that's rewarded when Sylvain does, in fact, send him a message confirming that he did what Felix assumed he would, but ah, what news. No name on the clock; no name in the compass; no things in his room. Would Mercedes know more? Would Dimitri? Is he looking for Ashe, too—and if so, would he bother contacting Felix? Would Felix blame him if he didn't?
...So it goes.]
I see.
[And that's... it! No, no. A beat as he looks up at his clock, and then:]
[ Listen, alright, Sylvain is NOT the authority on magical clocks and how they may or may not function! For all he knows, Felix could have been practicing some impressive dumb sword technique in his room and smacked the damn thing... He just also knows how unlikely it is, and so the idea holds little, if any, water.
The only idea that seems willing to stick happens to be one he isn't willing to accept so easily. And, judging by the message that comes through to his compass, the same can be said of Felix. ]
be careful. [ Habitual, instant, and likely enough to earn a scoff from the brat on the other end. ] ill check around here some more... maybe someone else mightve seen him.
[ Not that he's got high hopes in that regard... But he sends one more message following, as he closes the door and wanders in the direction of the kitchens. ]
ill meet you after.
give me an hour. two tops.
[ Just... a reassurance that he won't, like, disappear too? Or at least if he does, then at least Felix will Know... ]
[And normally such a thing would earn a scoff—but not today, because as Felix reads these messages, he's thinking about how quickly, how easily someone as bright as Ashe... disappeared without a(n apparent) trace. What if—
...Hmm. Well. Felix isn't one to worry; Felix is one to go out and deal with the problem head-on, which is why he heads for his door, passing by his coat without a second thought. Of course he'll be careful. He doesn't need Sylvain to meet him in Kyst to presumably check up on him, but before he shoves his compass back into his pocket, what he types is:]
The same place.
[This "same place" is, of course, the tavern they've wound up in a handful of times? A simple place with cheap, yet filling, meals—and after spending an hour stalking about Kyst and finding absolutely nothing of interest, the idea of a warm meal is more than welcome. He's a Faerghus boy, but without his coat, he's still chilly. It's too bad he had other things on his mind...
And those things are here to stay, apparently, as he grabs a table and waits for Sylvain to arrive. Catch him in the back of the room, sitting near the fire and glaring down at his mug of spiced... something. Weak mulled wine. All that matters is that it's warm to the touch as he, unfortunately, Thinks and Waits...]
Edited (you didn’t tell me i used the same icon tWICE IN A ROW) 2019-12-07 08:26 (UTC)
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.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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And Felix knows that all he can do... is wait for Sylvain to send him more information, because that stupid question aside, he trusts Sylvain to look into this since he can't? Which is a trust that's rewarded when Sylvain does, in fact, send him a message confirming that he did what Felix assumed he would, but ah, what news. No name on the clock; no name in the compass; no things in his room. Would Mercedes know more? Would Dimitri? Is he looking for Ashe, too—and if so, would he bother contacting Felix? Would Felix blame him if he didn't?
...So it goes.]
I see.
[And that's... it! No, no. A beat as he looks up at his clock, and then:]
I'll look in Kyst.
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impressivedumb sword technique in his room and smacked the damn thing... He just also knows how unlikely it is, and so the idea holds little, if any, water.The only idea that seems willing to stick happens to be one he isn't willing to accept so easily. And, judging by the message that comes through to his compass, the same can be said of Felix. ]
be careful. [ Habitual, instant, and likely enough to earn a scoff from the brat on the other end. ] ill check around here some more... maybe someone else mightve seen him.
[ Not that he's got high hopes in that regard... But he sends one more message following, as he closes the door and wanders in the direction of the kitchens. ]
ill meet you after.
give me an hour. two tops.
[ Just... a reassurance that he won't, like, disappear too? Or at least if he does, then at least Felix will Know... ]
no subject
...Hmm. Well. Felix isn't one to worry; Felix is one to go out and deal with the problem head-on, which is why he heads for his door, passing by his coat without a second thought. Of course he'll be careful. He doesn't need Sylvain to meet him in Kyst to presumably check up on him, but before he shoves his compass back into his pocket, what he types is:]
The same place.
[This "same place" is, of course, the tavern they've wound up in a handful of times? A simple place with cheap, yet filling, meals—and after spending an hour stalking about Kyst and finding absolutely nothing of interest, the idea of a warm meal is more than welcome. He's a Faerghus boy, but without his coat, he's still chilly. It's too bad he had other things on his mind...
And those things are here to stay, apparently, as he grabs a table and waits for Sylvain to arrive. Catch him in the back of the room, sitting near the fire and glaring down at his mug of spiced... something. Weak mulled wine. All that matters is that it's warm to the touch as he, unfortunately, Thinks and Waits...]
no subject
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.]