[Cid takes a sip of coffee to mask his instinct to grimace. It's been weird and fraught, honestly. There hasn't been enough to do to direct Clive, things have been strange with damn near everyone... He's been smoking and drinking too much, and it always causes him to wake in the middle of the night. He tries to focus less on how poorly he does here in spite of all the good he should have.]

I think I might like a little holiday. The ship sounds nice. A little change of scenery might do me some good.

[He tucks into that porridge, unable to resist the siren call of walnuts for much longer.]

Maybe I can refocus myself properly. Clive still looks at me like I might turn to dust sometimes.