The warmth in Falcon's smile reminded Cohen of better days in Rapture. A surge of nostalgia washing over his prone form and considerably brightening his mood. Sander strides to the window and looks out, drinking in the sight he once found breathtaking. A city...at the bottom of the ocean. The neon lights flickering in the distance--tell-tale signs of under-maintenance--left to the hands of the Doubters.
"Part of me...yes. Back when ambition and dreams coursed through this so-called 'utopia'."
Turning back, his brows shoot up. Though shy, Falcon's actions spoke louder than anything he'd need to say. For once, the Blue Bird seemed comfortable with himself--enough so to remove his mask--like a soloist learning their tune. Sander takes up the role of host and motions to the chair he was sitting in earlier. "Feel free to make yourself right at home. Taking a seat included~."