[ He would certainly apologize for his lack of manners later, given that his mind was preoccupied in preventing Cid from almost vomiting on him again as he'll, with a nod of thanks, push the two of them through the door.
Eventually the groaning from his unwilling passenger will increase with each bump of the stairwell. The process was clearly uncomfortable for both, but eventually the four will arrive in front of Clive's door. ]
We need to get him into a bath. [ The man begins, trying to support Cid with his body while attempting to use a free hand to reach for the handle. ] I found him drunk in a shithole of a pub. Looked like he'd been there for hours.
[It's a slow trip, but they all get there in one piece. There is just enough time for Jill's mind to come up with all sorts of fantastical reasons for why Clive has to carry Cid home, why Clive's cheek is looking angrier by the second, why any of this is happening. But Clive finally speaks as they reach the apartment's entryway, giving what seems a simple explanation for Cid's condition: too much drink. But the reason behind his imbibing is still a mystery.
What's also a mystery is why Clive is suddenly making a wild suggestion that has Jill looking at Clive, shifting her eyes to the mess that is Cid, and returning to Clive, only to say in no uncertain terms:]
I'm not bathing him.
[She barely survived Clive's bathtime adventure and now he's talking about washing up Cid? No. Absolutely not. As much as she cares about Cid, some boundaries cannot be crossed.]
Neither am I. [ He says almost immediately. He'll shift Cid's weight in his arms, hoisting the man up a bit more before fully stepping into the room.
He will eventually begin clarify when he drags the man over to the washroom, and with a stern grunt continues: ] I mean to have him lie there until he sobers enough to speak.
[As long as they both agree Cid is on his own for baths, Jill can concentrate on closing the door behind them once Clive gets both of them into the apartment. For the moment, there's not much she can do except follow them and help rearrange the man into a position that seems decent enough for a drunk when the time comes.
Whatever Cid imbibed on had to be bad. This isn't the look of just ale.]
[ There's a quick puff of air that escapes his nose- a minor semblance of a laugh in its weakness form. Probably the closest thing to one that he's managed to muster up all day.
Once Cid is fully positioned in the tub, Clive will grab a bucket of water (cold- but not that cold) and dump it into the tub along with the man. Half to wash away whatever remnants remaining on the man's clothes, and half to try to bring him to his senses.
He'll leave the washroom door ajar when he steps out, a clear and evident frown across his face. ]
Thank you for your help. [ He probably could have handled it, but having Jill beside him was always helpful, regardless of the situation. ]
I've never seen him like this before...
Edited (oops wanted to add that) 2023-09-13 20:33 (UTC)
[Once Cid is settled as much as they can possible get him, Jill steps out of the washroom and waits for Clive just steps away. As soon as he's out as well, she puts the back of her fingers to Clive's chin, gently lifting his face and turning his cheek towards the moonlight streaming along the windows so she can get a closer look at the bruise. Still just as nasty looking, if not more so now that a few minutes have passed, still just as much as mystery to Jill as to where it came from.]
Clive, what happened here?
[One might say she's being too soft with a man whose face is already badly scarred, a man who has had much worse injuries than this, but still. This is a face Jill enjoys looking at quite often. Forgive her for worrying about it and the person it's attached to.]
[While the only functioning couple in this entire franchise is out there being sweet, the one in probably the most dysfunctional relationship is just sitting in the tub, arms resting listlessly at his sides. Although the water had roused him, he really doesn't do more than just lift his head slightly before it drops back down.
He doesn't want to be roused. Because if he does, that will make him have to think and right now his thoughts keep spiraling back to his time back in Waleod. From all the way back to the beginning, to when he first Benedikta, to the years after and the rough years leading up to his departure. And whenever it gets to there his thoughts sink darker and darker. Happier, blissful memories become tainted and twisted as he has to keep doubting and suspecting. And then it all merges to the events of last night, of whatever little frayed thread of foolish hope he had snapped.
Or at least, he wishes it would snap. Any sane person would have left everything then. No, any sane person would have cut everything six years ago, perhaps even sooner. When things really started going downhill first. Or he shouldn't have given in to begin with. But no, for some god forsaken reason he couldn't completely let her go. And given what he saw last night, neither did she, so what is he supposed to think? What is he supposed to think and feel when she keeps those little reminders, saying one thing and meaning another? Or is she really meaning what she said? So then why the fuck would she—
There will be a loudBANG and swearing from the bathroom, and when the two look they will find Cid frantically digging around his pockets, half leaning, half crouching and hanging over the tub as he tries to pull out something from his now drenched side belt satchel.]
[ The small yet sudden gesture of his chin moving by Jill's fingertips has him grimacing under the moonlight. She was right, he's had worse injuries than this, but addressing publicly was never one of his fortes. It feels almost pathetic in a way to admit, but after letting her examine the side of his face for a moment, he finally addresses it with a sigh. ]
It was Cid. He refused to leave the pub right away, and so he—
[ and there there was the bang.
Immediately alerted, Clive will turn his face fully to Jill, features washed with a brief moment of panic, before tearing away to walk back into the washroom.
He stands by the doorway, peering in to watch as Cid fumbles around for something in the tub. ]
[He can grimace and sigh all he wants, but Jill is still insistent on checking him over. When will the men in her life let her care for them as much as they have cared for her? It only comes natural to her and much like a disapproving mother, she gives a little sound that she doesn't like the look of this bruise.
And then Clive begins to explain. So she doesn't like the look or the reason behind the bruise. It, in fact, might just be a little worse than the situations she had imagined up. At least Jill would have expected either Benedikta or Barnabas to have hit Clive, but Cid? They're going to have a little chat as soon as he wakes up.
Or not. Because that bang and the loud curse startless Jill out of her reverie and she's staring back at Clive with the same panicked expression, only to follow right behind him to the doorway, standing on her tiptoes to try and see what's happening beyond Clive's burly frame.]
[Just more incoherent swearing as Cid continues to scramble in the tub looking as if he might fall out of it with how erratic he moves, until at last his hand jerks up, his shellphone briefly appearing, a flash of something small but indiscernible dangling from it before he's falling back, fingers quickly tapping on it.]
Shit—work—c'mon!
[There's desperate anger and frustration as wet leather smacks the screen before he has to drunkenly pull the glove off with his teeth, spitting it out before he tries again. Now with proper contact, the screen lights up, and after seeing no damage had been done despite getting wet, he slumps forward in relief, clutching the device close to his chest.
Of course, there wasn't much risk to begin with. Given the environment, the shellphones are built to withstand water, so even if it had fallen into a tub full it would have been fine. Not only that, the worn, leather case had protected it from the superficial splash. But Cid's mind is too addled to remember and realize all that—and too addled to think properly as he now glares at Clive, voice raising into a loud, slurred shout.]
You...you mad!?!?
[No, the only one here who is "mad" in every sense of the word is him, but good luck with that.]
[ The look of panic washes away as quickly as it came the more Clive would watch the man scramble around the tub. It doesn't dawn on him until the shellphone is produced to exactly what Cid was yelling about, and soon what facial features were mixed with confusion were now being replaced with anger.
Oh. Oh he was mad, alright.
Clive could feel a flame burning brighter than the bruise in the pit of his stomach when the man yells at him. He angerly throws the door open a bit more when he charges fully inside the washroom now. Eyes glaring daggers and hands balled tightly into a fist. ]
I'm mad!? I find you half dead looking like a morbol chewed and spit you out, and you're calling me mad!?
[ He was so worried about you and this is what you're going to get mad over? ]
Apologies if I was more concerned about you than that! [ Should he be arguing with a less than sober man? Probably not. Will he? Absolutely. ] Fuck, Cid!
[What her eyes are unable to see, Jill's ears surely make certain that she catches every word, foul and unfoul. Tempers are flaring and while she knows much better than to get between an angry drunk and an angry sober man, she does just that, slipping in the midst of the two and instantly becoming a referee. Or a target, who knows as of yet.
Her arms are outstretched to either side of her as she makes her stand between them, a position more symbolic than something actually capable of physically holding back two grown men.]
[The neighbors of rough and tumble Nogard are probably far more used to yelling being part of their nightly sounds than anything else, but Jill is still going to give calming these two down a try for her own nerves because with the way Torgal is growling, there's angry hound barking soon ahead.]
[He was ready to yell right back, but Jill getting between them does stop him from doing so. His hand still tight around the phone, Cid starts trying to stand.]
That...won't be a problem—once I—!
[Well, if he could stand. He's using his other hand to brace against the tub to push himself up, but of course with it being wet and him having barely any balance, he ends up staggering and falling out of the tub with a very disgraceful crash.]
[ You could say that Jill had Clive wrapped around her finger for the moment she raised her hands between the two, his body instantly reacted and relaxed. He was still mad as hell though, but would never want to do anything to upset or escalate the problem especially if she was involved.
... Ugh. Fine.
Clive had half the mind to let him crawl back up on his own, the anger still trying to subside, but reluctantly he moves forward. He'll place a hand to Jill's shoulder as he attempts to pass by, giving it a small squeeze and a apologetic look before releasing to aid the man.
He won't help him up entirely, mainly because he didn't want another fist to his face, but will grab at each of his shoulders to sit the man upright. Replacing the once soft expression he gave Jill for a scowl to Cid. If he says anything else he might just end up yelling again, so he'll keep quiet for the moment. Eyes checking to see if he injured himself in any way from the fall. ]
[If she were a lesser woman, Jill could totally take advantage of how Clive just softens around her. She can see it in the way his shoulders just melt and his behavior improves. Luckily, the idea has and never will occur to her. Besides, there are much more pressing issues to deal with at hand, namely Cid and his horrible condition.
The hand on her shoulders gets covered with one of her own and squeezed gently, silent recognition and acceptance of Clive's apology. It doesn't take much for her to forgive him; Cid, on the other hand, intoxicated or not, will be hearing a bit from Jill. Once Clive has him sitting somewhat upright, Jill kneels down next him, voice steady and brooking no nonsense.]
Cid. I need you to listen to me and listen to me carefully. [There's a pause, but she really doesn't wait for him to speak.] There will be no more hitting of anybody. Clive is trying to help you and you will respect him.
[Honestly, it sounds like she's speaking to a child, but what is a drunken man if not a small mind in an adult's body?]
[He has no choice but to sit up, though he doesn't even mutter a word of thanks or even acknowledgment. He just sits there, back against the tub before he snorts.]
You nagging, too?
[A rough low drawl as he doesn't even look at Jill.]
I warned him. Told him to fuck off and he didn't.
[And then another low mutter.]
Don't need your damn...help, anyway.
[A wild wave of his hand before it falls hard against the floor...and once more he's going to try to stand.]
[ It was a strange thing to have Jill stand up for him and demand his respect when not so long ago no one would even breathe in his direction without a fair amount of distain. He knew she would always take his side though, no matter the person, and Clive's face only softens briefly before Cid opens his mouth again.
Because of course he did.
His face hardens the moment he beings to speak, not necessarily angered at his poor explanation but rather his rude language towards Jill. Seriously, if he could punch him back right now—
—but he won't. Not after the last comment catches him slightly off guard and alerted Clive to something deeper. ]
Talk to us. [ He demands, pressing a hand down against his shoulder to keep Cid in place. Founder knows he was only going to fall again if he got up. ] Can't you see we want to help you?
[ His words are earnest. Firm. And his hand squeezes a bit tighter around his shoulder. ]
[Truly, it doesn't offend her to be called a nagger. She's heard worse throughout her life and well, Cid's drunk. Jill isn't going to hold the alcohol talking against him too much; the punch, however, still has her exasperated, but there's nothing much they can do about that right now.
Clive's question is important and they do need the answer to it because she too can tell something is behind this, something that deeply affected Cid to go this far into his cups in a single night.]
[There's a sharp look, one that for a brief moment conveys a rare look of barely contained anger at being held back like this. Of course a lot of it is due to the alcohol, but a lot of raw nerves are being hit. Nerves and emotions he'd rather keep to himself than let anyone else know about it.
Know about this mess he's kicked up and made himself. A mess he can't fix.
A mess that is still eating at him no matter what he does.]
I fucked up.
[The words spill out even if he doesn't want them to, but maybe the alcohol is the blame for that, too. Or maybe deep down he did want to have someone hear. Have someone help him.
Help him help her.
And so his hand clutches tighter against the phone as his head hangs low, his voice rough with a mix of rare defeat and despair.]
I fucked up and there's no going back...
[...Though it might take a bit to get tbe whole story out given everything.]
[ Clive's face molds from what remaining anger he still had to confusion. He looks up to Jill, trying to read from her face if she could possibly know what he meant, before briefly returning to Cid. He could feel the weight underneath his grip lax, almost in defeat, and Clive will take that opportunity to loosen his hold just enough to not be uncomfortable.
They had only recently just arrived to port, so what could have happened from then until now?
But hopefully now that he's opening up a bit, he'll explain. ]
[Likewise, Jill looks at Clive with the same sort of confusion written on her face. The unasked question of what exactly is Cid babbling about has her shaking her head because she absolutely cannot think of anything that could bring the man to his proverbial knees like this. He seemed to be taking his death back home in stride, so that couldn't be it at all.
She's at a total loss, so Jill just shakes her head again, thinking maybe a little prompting will get them some clarity on the matter.]
Cid, I'm sure whatever it is, it's not that bad. Couldn't be that bad.
[There's a harsh laugh, one that rings hollow in the small bathroom. And while deep down he would recognize Jill is trying to help, his current mindset is not taking kindly to it. In fact, he can only look at them with almost scornful expressions since they're keeping him here and making him have to actually talk about this.
Even if they actually aren't forcing him and a part of him hopes they could help. Help him fix this bloody fucked up mess he made.
So there's another stretch of silence before he reaches in his pocket to pull out a cigar, not caring if they get bothered by him smoking here or not. They wanted him to talk, and he'll talk, but he's going to need this to get through it.]
Benedikta.
[That's all he says at first through clenched teeth biting down on the cigar before he uses his index finger to spark the end of it to light, drawing in a deep drag to let it sit in his mouth before releasing the smoke slowly and looking at Clive.]
You once asked... What the story was between her and I.
[He then looks at Jill.]
And then I told you both about the girl I wanted to save.
[Another deep breath in and exhale before he pulls out the cigar and let's his hand fall, head tilting back against the tub.]
One in the same. She was the best and worst decision I ever made... Because I loved her and wanted to save her from her fate. And yet—
[A rough wave of his hand.]
You saw how that ended.
[His shoulders sag and he rubs his eyes with a shaky breath.]
And I was a fool to think we could have another chance.
[ The words come out almost in disbelief. For a moment his thoughts raced with different scenarios trying to piece together how she had left him in such a sorry state. Had they fought? Was he injured somewhere Clive hadn't seen? His run ins with the woman had been less than desirable, and thinking back to their confrontations in the past left nothing good to come to mind.
It was only when Cid had lit the cigar and continued that realization had begun to seep in.
Ah... so that's what this was all about—
It was still confusing overall given that the history between the two was usually kept behind closed doors. But it was a history nonetheless, and one Cid seemed rather torn up about.
[Oh, no, it is that bad. Once Jill hears that woman's name, it takes everything in her to keep how she feels about Benedikta off her face. And hearing Cid say he loved her... there's a kneejerk reactionary thought that is the simple and single word why in Jill's mind. There has not been one good thing about Benedikta that Jill could find, not even with a stretch, in the few interactions they've shared, so what could Cid possibly find in her to love?
To want to try and love her again? After all Benedikta has done? When she's partnered with Barnabas of all people? There's attraction and then there's plain insanity and Jill's wondering if Cid is leaning into the latter a little bit too much.
But it's not her place to say any of this out loud, especially when she's saved by Clive asking a necessary question that expects an answer so she doesn't have to figure out some cordial words. For now, she just stays silent, forcing her expression into something neutral, and allows Cid the space to talk.]
[Even in his drunken state he can feel the general confusion and unease in their thoughts, and he's not bothered by it. If anything they only reflect common sense, what with how things turned out and what they experienced. What they see now.]
Last straw, probably.
["Probably." Most likely. Yet there was still that confusion, that ambiguity. Denial, too.
He takes another smoke before revealing a little more of this complicated puzzle.]
Look. I know how she is now, but she didn't always used to be that way. And I'm not going to bore you with all my baggage. But I'll tell you this much.
[He takes another long drag as he thinks about how much he should say and how much he actually wants to. But with all that alcohol, his tongue is going to be looser, anyway. Probably too loose with all that he's about to say to them.]
I used to serve under Barnabas as his Lord Commander. Over twenty years I gave that man my life and he returned it by using me for his own damn schemes. Used all of us, including Benedikta. He's the one who sent her to Kupka. [His face contorts even more, disgust and anger brimming in his eyes before he sighs.] Barnabas changed us, and there was nothing I could do then to stop it—or her. But even after I left Waleod, I always hoped—tried to make her see the truth. To make her leave him.
[A small, defeated sigh, his hand still gripping the phone tightly.]
But she never forgave me for leaving her... And I regret not taking her.
[Another smoke, as if to gather his thoughts and himself.]
So, when we met again here... Thought maybe this could be a second chance to make amends. Not even to get back together, just... Something. Anything. Help her find a new path in life that she couldn't back in ours. Try to do what I couldn't before.
But Barnabas showing up threw a wrench in that... And I made it worse.
[A small, hollow empty laugh.]
She didn't know she was dead. She had her suspicions, given how I found her. [A small glance at Clive, but he doesn't say anything. The kid doesn't need to know.] But me and my big mouth didn't realize it, so I was the one who ended up telling her. You can imagine how well that went. Tried to talk to her again last night, but.. Fucked that up, too.
I don't know what she wants anymore, if she even wants me anymore. Never gave me a straight answer. She says and does one thing, then pushes me away. [A rough wave of his hand, smoke trailing through the air.] I'm just ruining her, and I should just cut it all, should have ages ago but—[His voice strains a bit.]
I can't. Pathetic, right?
[There's a thin, wane smile that does little to mask the deep hurt and confusion that plagues him. Even hearing all of this to his ears, it's so obvious what he should do. Knows what he would say to anyone else in his place. But each time he thinks, "This is it, no more, I quit," he sees her face. Sees that fear in her eyes, the way she still clearly seeks him. Wants him. Needs him. To what end, he doesn't know, and that's part of the problem.]
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Eventually the groaning from his unwilling passenger will increase with each bump of the stairwell. The process was clearly uncomfortable for both, but eventually the four will arrive in front of Clive's door. ]
We need to get him into a bath. [ The man begins, trying to support Cid with his body while attempting to use a free hand to reach for the handle. ] I found him drunk in a shithole of a pub. Looked like he'd been there for hours.
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What's also a mystery is why Clive is suddenly making a wild suggestion that has Jill looking at Clive, shifting her eyes to the mess that is Cid, and returning to Clive, only to say in no uncertain terms:]
I'm not bathing him.
[She barely survived Clive's bathtime adventure and now he's talking about washing up Cid? No. Absolutely not. As much as she cares about Cid, some boundaries cannot be crossed.]
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He will eventually begin clarify when he drags the man over to the washroom, and with a stern grunt continues: ] I mean to have him lie there until he sobers enough to speak.
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[As long as they both agree Cid is on his own for baths, Jill can concentrate on closing the door behind them once Clive gets both of them into the apartment. For the moment, there's not much she can do except follow them and help rearrange the man into a position that seems decent enough for a drunk when the time comes.
Whatever Cid imbibed on had to be bad. This isn't the look of just ale.]
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Once Cid is fully positioned in the tub, Clive will grab a bucket of water (cold- but not that cold) and dump it into the tub along with the man. Half to wash away whatever remnants remaining on the man's clothes, and half to try to bring him to his senses.
He'll leave the washroom door ajar when he steps out, a clear and evident frown across his face. ]
Thank you for your help. [ He probably could have handled it, but having Jill beside him was always helpful, regardless of the situation. ]
I've never seen him like this before...
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Clive, what happened here?
[One might say she's being too soft with a man whose face is already badly scarred, a man who has had much worse injuries than this, but still. This is a face Jill enjoys looking at quite often. Forgive her for worrying about it and the person it's attached to.]
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He doesn't want to be roused. Because if he does, that will make him have to think and right now his thoughts keep spiraling back to his time back in Waleod. From all the way back to the beginning, to when he first Benedikta, to the years after and the rough years leading up to his departure. And whenever it gets to there his thoughts sink darker and darker. Happier, blissful memories become tainted and twisted as he has to keep doubting and suspecting. And then it all merges to the events of last night, of whatever little frayed thread of foolish hope he had snapped.
Or at least, he wishes it would snap. Any sane person would have left everything then. No, any sane person would have cut everything six years ago, perhaps even sooner. When things really started going downhill first. Or he shouldn't have given in to begin with. But no, for some god forsaken reason he couldn't completely let her go. And given what he saw last night, neither did she, so what is he supposed to think? What is he supposed to think and feel when she keeps those little reminders, saying one thing and meaning another? Or is she really meaning what she said? So then why the fuck would she—
There will be a loud BANG and swearing from the bathroom, and when the two look they will find Cid frantically digging around his pockets, half leaning, half crouching and hanging over the tub as he tries to pull out something from his now drenched side belt satchel.]
Fuck—FUCK!
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It was Cid. He refused to leave the pub right away, and so he—
[ and there there was the bang.
Immediately alerted, Clive will turn his face fully to Jill, features washed with a brief moment of panic, before tearing away to walk back into the washroom.
He stands by the doorway, peering in to watch as Cid fumbles around for something in the tub. ]
What's going on!?
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like the look of this bruise.
And then Clive begins to explain. So she doesn't like the look or the reason behind the bruise. It, in fact, might just be a little worse than the situations she had imagined up. At least Jill would have expected either Benedikta or Barnabas to have hit Clive, but Cid? They're going to have a little chat as soon as he wakes up.
Or not. Because that bang and the loud curse startless Jill out of her reverie and she's staring back at Clive with the same panicked expression, only to follow right behind him to the doorway, standing on her tiptoes to try and see what's happening beyond Clive's burly frame.]
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Shit—work—c'mon!
[There's desperate anger and frustration as wet leather smacks the screen before he has to drunkenly pull the glove off with his teeth, spitting it out before he tries again. Now with proper contact, the screen lights up, and after seeing no damage had been done despite getting wet, he slumps forward in relief, clutching the device close to his chest.
Of course, there wasn't much risk to begin with. Given the environment, the shellphones are built to withstand water, so even if it had fallen into a tub full it would have been fine. Not only that, the worn, leather case had protected it from the superficial splash. But Cid's mind is too addled to remember and realize all that—and too addled to think properly as he now glares at Clive, voice raising into a loud, slurred shout.]
You...you mad!?!?
[No, the only one here who is "mad" in every sense of the word is him, but good luck with that.]
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Oh. Oh he was mad, alright.
Clive could feel a flame burning brighter than the bruise in the pit of his stomach when the man yells at him. He angerly throws the door open a bit more when he charges fully inside the washroom now. Eyes glaring daggers and hands balled tightly into a fist. ]
I'm mad!? I find you half dead looking like a morbol chewed and spit you out, and you're calling me mad!?
[ He was so worried about you and this is what you're going to get mad over? ]
Apologies if I was more concerned about you than that! [ Should he be arguing with a less than sober man? Probably not. Will he? Absolutely. ] Fuck, Cid!
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Her arms are outstretched to either side of her as she makes her stand between them, a position more symbolic than something actually capable of physically holding back two grown men.]
Clive... Cid... it's late. Let's lower our voices.
[The neighbors of rough and tumble Nogard are probably far more used to yelling being part of their nightly sounds than anything else, but Jill is still going to give calming these two down a try for her own nerves because with the way Torgal is growling, there's angry hound barking soon ahead.]
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That...won't be a problem—once I—!
[Well, if he could stand. He's using his other hand to brace against the tub to push himself up, but of course with it being wet and him having barely any balance, he ends up staggering and falling out of the tub with a very disgraceful crash.]
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... Ugh. Fine.
Clive had half the mind to let him crawl back up on his own, the anger still trying to subside, but reluctantly he moves forward. He'll place a hand to Jill's shoulder as he attempts to pass by, giving it a small squeeze and a apologetic look before releasing to aid the man.
He won't help him up entirely, mainly because he didn't want another fist to his face, but will grab at each of his shoulders to sit the man upright. Replacing the once soft expression he gave Jill for a scowl to Cid. If he says anything else he might just end up yelling again, so he'll keep quiet for the moment. Eyes checking to see if he injured himself in any way from the fall. ]
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The hand on her shoulders gets covered with one of her own and squeezed gently, silent recognition and acceptance of Clive's apology. It doesn't take much for her to forgive him; Cid, on the other hand, intoxicated or not, will be hearing a bit from Jill. Once Clive has him sitting somewhat upright, Jill kneels down next him, voice steady and brooking no nonsense.]
Cid. I need you to listen to me and listen to me carefully. [There's a pause, but she really doesn't wait for him to speak.] There will be no more hitting of anybody. Clive is trying to help you and you will respect him.
[Honestly, it sounds like she's speaking to a child, but what is a drunken man if not a small mind in an adult's body?]
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You nagging, too?
[A rough low drawl as he doesn't even look at Jill.]
I warned him. Told him to fuck off and he didn't.
[And then another low mutter.]
Don't need your damn...help, anyway.
[A wild wave of his hand before it falls hard against the floor...and once more he's going to try to stand.]
No helping this shit—
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Because of course he did.
His face hardens the moment he beings to speak, not necessarily angered at his poor explanation but rather his rude language towards Jill. Seriously, if he could punch him back right now—
—but he won't. Not after the last comment catches him slightly off guard and alerted Clive to something deeper. ]
Talk to us. [ He demands, pressing a hand down against his shoulder to keep Cid in place. Founder knows he was only going to fall again if he got up. ] Can't you see we want to help you?
[ His words are earnest. Firm. And his hand squeezes a bit tighter around his shoulder. ]
What happened before you went into that pub?
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[Truly, it doesn't offend her to be called a nagger. She's heard worse throughout her life and well, Cid's drunk. Jill isn't going to hold the alcohol talking against him too much; the punch, however, still has her exasperated, but there's nothing much they can do about that right now.
Clive's question is important and they do need the answer to it because she too can tell something is behind this, something that deeply affected Cid to go this far into his cups in a single night.]
Please, Cid. Answer him.
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Know about this mess he's kicked up and made himself. A mess he can't fix.
A mess that is still eating at him no matter what he does.]
I fucked up.
[The words spill out even if he doesn't want them to, but maybe the alcohol is the blame for that, too. Or maybe deep down he did want to have someone hear. Have someone help him.
Help him help her.
And so his hand clutches tighter against the phone as his head hangs low, his voice rough with a mix of rare defeat and despair.]
I fucked up and there's no going back...
[...Though it might take a bit to get tbe whole story out given everything.]
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They had only recently just arrived to port, so what could have happened from then until now?
But hopefully now that he's opening up a bit, he'll explain. ]
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She's at a total loss, so Jill just shakes her head again, thinking maybe a little prompting will get them some clarity on the matter.]
Cid, I'm sure whatever it is, it's not that bad. Couldn't be that bad.
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[There's a harsh laugh, one that rings hollow in the small bathroom. And while deep down he would recognize Jill is trying to help, his current mindset is not taking kindly to it. In fact, he can only look at them with almost scornful expressions since they're keeping him here and making him have to actually talk about this.
Even if they actually aren't forcing him and a part of him hopes they could help. Help him fix this bloody fucked up mess he made.
So there's another stretch of silence before he reaches in his pocket to pull out a cigar, not caring if they get bothered by him smoking here or not. They wanted him to talk, and he'll talk, but he's going to need this to get through it.]
Benedikta.
[That's all he says at first through clenched teeth biting down on the cigar before he uses his index finger to spark the end of it to light, drawing in a deep drag to let it sit in his mouth before releasing the smoke slowly and looking at Clive.]
You once asked... What the story was between her and I.
[He then looks at Jill.]
And then I told you both about the girl I wanted to save.
[Another deep breath in and exhale before he pulls out the cigar and let's his hand fall, head tilting back against the tub.]
One in the same. She was the best and worst decision I ever made... Because I loved her and wanted to save her from her fate. And yet—
[A rough wave of his hand.]
You saw how that ended.
[His shoulders sag and he rubs his eyes with a shaky breath.]
And I was a fool to think we could have another chance.
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[ The words come out almost in disbelief. For a moment his thoughts raced with different scenarios trying to piece together how she had left him in such a sorry state. Had they fought? Was he injured somewhere Clive hadn't seen? His run ins with the woman had been less than desirable, and thinking back to their confrontations in the past left nothing good to come to mind.
It was only when Cid had lit the cigar and continued that realization had begun to seep in.
Ah... so that's what this was all about—
It was still confusing overall given that the history between the two was usually kept behind closed doors. But it was a history nonetheless, and one Cid seemed rather torn up about.
But how to even approach this? ]
Did something happen between you two on the ship?
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To want to try and love her again? After all Benedikta has done? When she's partnered with Barnabas of all people? There's attraction and then there's plain insanity and Jill's wondering if Cid is leaning into the latter a little bit too much.
But it's not her place to say any of this out loud, especially when she's saved by Clive asking a necessary question that expects an answer so she doesn't have to figure out some cordial words. For now, she just stays silent, forcing her expression into something neutral, and allows Cid the space to talk.]
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Last straw, probably.
["Probably." Most likely. Yet there was still that confusion, that ambiguity. Denial, too.
He takes another smoke before revealing a little more of this complicated puzzle.]
Look. I know how she is now, but she didn't always used to be that way. And I'm not going to bore you with all my baggage. But I'll tell you this much.
[He takes another long drag as he thinks about how much he should say and how much he actually wants to. But with all that alcohol, his tongue is going to be looser, anyway. Probably too loose with all that he's about to say to them.]
I used to serve under Barnabas as his Lord Commander. Over twenty years I gave that man my life and he returned it by using me for his own damn schemes. Used all of us, including Benedikta. He's the one who sent her to Kupka. [His face contorts even more, disgust and anger brimming in his eyes before he sighs.] Barnabas changed us, and there was nothing I could do then to stop it—or her. But even after I left Waleod, I always hoped—tried to make her see the truth. To make her leave him.
[A small, defeated sigh, his hand still gripping the phone tightly.]
But she never forgave me for leaving her... And I regret not taking her.
[Another smoke, as if to gather his thoughts and himself.]
So, when we met again here... Thought maybe this could be a second chance to make amends. Not even to get back together, just... Something. Anything. Help her find a new path in life that she couldn't back in ours. Try to do what I couldn't before.
But Barnabas showing up threw a wrench in that... And I made it worse.
[A small, hollow empty laugh.]
She didn't know she was dead. She had her suspicions, given how I found her. [A small glance at Clive, but he doesn't say anything. The kid doesn't need to know.] But me and my big mouth didn't realize it, so I was the one who ended up telling her. You can imagine how well that went. Tried to talk to her again last night, but.. Fucked that up, too.
I don't know what she wants anymore, if she even wants me anymore. Never gave me a straight answer. She says and does one thing, then pushes me away. [A rough wave of his hand, smoke trailing through the air.] I'm just ruining her, and I should just cut it all, should have ages ago but—[His voice strains a bit.]
I can't. Pathetic, right?
[There's a thin, wane smile that does little to mask the deep hurt and confusion that plagues him. Even hearing all of this to his ears, it's so obvious what he should do. Knows what he would say to anyone else in his place. But each time he thinks, "This is it, no more, I quit," he sees her face. Sees that fear in her eyes, the way she still clearly seeks him. Wants him. Needs him. To what end, he doesn't know, and that's part of the problem.]
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