[ Claude clicks his tongue. ] You got it. Hard liquor it is.
[ This is easy. Reassuring. He's been making drinks back here for as long as he can remember, these days, and digging the bottles and cups out and making a couple of drinks by rote is exactly what his addled, frantic brain needs right now. He makes two old fashioneds, one for her, one for him. He hops up onto the bar to be able to sit beside her properly, ignoring the fact that if his employer were to see it, he'd get a whole earful for his transgression.
He frowns as she lays out what she'd seen. It's all terse, short, devoid of anything that would help them make sense of it... but that's the way his memory had been as well. ]
That's... personal, [ he says with a frown. ] And specific.
[ To her, he means. For Claude, he could have been any man on any battlefield. But Vi is remembering something else altogether, a small family tragedy instead of a wave of crushing war. Somehow, Claude thinks he got off luckier. ]
It's not true, [ he says firmly. ] That wouldn't happen. You wouldn't let it happen. Whatever these... visions are, we're not responsible for them. [ He takes a slow sip of the whiskey. ] Did it feel like it was a warning? A premonition?
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[ This is easy. Reassuring. He's been making drinks back here for as long as he can remember, these days, and digging the bottles and cups out and making a couple of drinks by rote is exactly what his addled, frantic brain needs right now. He makes two old fashioneds, one for her, one for him. He hops up onto the bar to be able to sit beside her properly, ignoring the fact that if his employer were to see it, he'd get a whole earful for his transgression.
He frowns as she lays out what she'd seen. It's all terse, short, devoid of anything that would help them make sense of it... but that's the way his memory had been as well. ]
That's... personal, [ he says with a frown. ] And specific.
[ To her, he means. For Claude, he could have been any man on any battlefield. But Vi is remembering something else altogether, a small family tragedy instead of a wave of crushing war. Somehow, Claude thinks he got off luckier. ]
It's not true, [ he says firmly. ] That wouldn't happen. You wouldn't let it happen. Whatever these... visions are, we're not responsible for them. [ He takes a slow sip of the whiskey. ] Did it feel like it was a warning? A premonition?