As the silence grows thick with awkwardness, and Noctis takes a seat on Barnabas' throne-like chair, he finds it time to once more act. With silent strides he crosses that distance made between them, standing to the side of him. His gaze lingering on Noctis as he stares out at the sea. For a moment, his gaze is likewise cast to the waters and the waves, watching as they crash unfailingly upon each other, and he contemplates the inevitability of man's betrayal to one another.

"We did not come here to speak of fish and sailing, nor less to quietly stare at the sea." He says, finally breaking the silence. "Unless your interest has waned."

As he says that, his eyes return to looking at Noctis, his hand firmly cupping his cheek to turn his head to look up at him. Firmly, but not in a way that denotes true aggression, simply directness. For Barnabas' part, his other arm rests upon the back of the throne, his weight leaning on it as he looms over Noctis like a shadow.