Seifer and OPEN [11pm]
Seifer had taken up residence in his old seat at the back of the room, leaning as far as he could with his long legs propped up next to the console screen and crossed a the ankle. A glass full of ice and cognac rested in one hand as the other lazily filed through network pages on the console for no other reason than he could. Quistis had made good on her promise, which wasn't entirely surprising, and genuinely appreciated.
Casual was the only attire Seifer owned aside from the suit he'd gotten for the ball, and currently he was decked out in one of his most comfortable outfits, sleeves rolled to his elbows with hings of an equally comfortable undershirt showing. Drinking gave him a tendency to take off layers if he went too far, and at least now he had some to spare.
He'd only arrived a few minutes earlier. Not late, exactly, but not desperately on time. He'd even stopped to dare a pat on Angelo's head, and surprisingly the dog hadn't seemed to mind the attention from him before dozing off once more. He wasn't avoiding conversation, either, just making himself comfortable somewhere before all the good spots were taken. And this spot, no matter how much time had passed, was still his.