[SEASONAL EVENT] empty chairs at empty tables

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving "You haven't even tried it yet, how do you know you didn't make it," Ronin said haughtily, sipping at his mug and already knowing that it was true - this wasn't nearly as good as one of Remi's vintages. He smiled at the alchemist's quick quips, though it didn't reach his eyes and he could only shrug in response. "I have been somewhat preoccupied," he murmured. "Ludo, you say? What did you lose that belonged to it...? If you returned it, perhaps it would give your memories back." That seemed logical enough, but then when did logic matter to deities? Sipping again at his mug and gently rocking the basket next to him to lull Aoife to sleep, Ronin's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said, though it likely didn't mean anything to the man who had no idea what he had lost. Only when he noticed Remi's obvious blush did he realise what losing those memories truly meant. "Loren, too? He was..." He sighed. "He hasn't been seen for a long, long time. So it might be better that you don't remember him. He was unkind to you."