"Haven't seen you drink since ... ever." Gladio claps a hand on one of Ignis' shoulders and leans a bit into his friend.

"What's got you so worked up that you need to join us barbarians in our ritualistic consumption of alcohol after a difficult time?" He sips on his current drink, whiskey on the rocks, and levels Iggy with a look that says he's got nowhere better to be and that he's not leaving until Iggy gets a least a little off his chest.

"Talk t'me, Iggy."