PSICOM's Lt. Claire Farron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
subjected) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
witchesreign2012-01-07 05:58 pm
subjected) wrote in witchesreign2012-01-07 05:58 pm
[ very backdated action/text ] ϟ [ 06 ]
[ Backdated hideously far, to shortly after this took place - very beginning of December or so. x_x; ]
I'm resigning.
- Farron
[ Those three words are all the warning Garden as a whole will be getting out of Claire for now, as notice that, as that short and cryptic little message says, she's gone to the headmaster, ditched her title of "instructor," and is now heading off to do other things in the world - away from this place and the people who reside in it.
No goodbyes or whatever else- just her name disappearing off the class rosters and her disappearing from the campus-- or so she'd like. In other words, unless someone happens to catch her actually leaving, somewhere between her room and the front gate. Despite the plainclothes quite unlike her usual wear, she's not particularly hard to miss, considering her large bag and two sheathed gunblades- a FF8-world and FF13-style one alike...
However, it's safe to say her demeanor is deathly and she definitely isn't making eye contact unless addressed. In fact, it's a lot like she's off in her own little world entirely, dodging around anyone else in the hallway without much more than a glance spared. ]
I'm resigning.
- Farron
[ Those three words are all the warning Garden as a whole will be getting out of Claire for now, as notice that, as that short and cryptic little message says, she's gone to the headmaster, ditched her title of "instructor," and is now heading off to do other things in the world - away from this place and the people who reside in it.
No goodbyes or whatever else- just her name disappearing off the class rosters and her disappearing from the campus-- or so she'd like. In other words, unless someone happens to catch her actually leaving, somewhere between her room and the front gate. Despite the plainclothes quite unlike her usual wear, she's not particularly hard to miss, considering her large bag and two sheathed gunblades- a FF8-world and FF13-style one alike...
However, it's safe to say her demeanor is deathly and she definitely isn't making eye contact unless addressed. In fact, it's a lot like she's off in her own little world entirely, dodging around anyone else in the hallway without much more than a glance spared. ]
no subject
Not that she's certain on why that should bother her - she owes him nothing after what he's said to her before - but her drive to remain truthful apparently affects her even now... and her drive to remain stubborn falters.
Jaw still tight, she turns suddenly, head down, the grip of her hand on the bag's strap over her shoulder white-knuckled in its intensity. ]
-- Wait.
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Cid stops, but he doesn't immediately turn back around. In fact, he briefly contemplates just leaving her. He expects nothing but vicious words, filled with spite and venom, from her by now, and if that's all she's going to fling at him now, he can do without them--quite happily, thank you.
His head drops a little to follow his gaze to the floor before he sighs, heavily enough that even she can hear, and faces her.]
Is there something else?
[He doesn't bother veiling his irritation this time around. His eyebrows rise slightly in inquiry as he waits for an answer. This had better not be a waste of his time.]
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Years of indoctrination have made it most of the way impossible to even consider anything less than hatred of the Pulse l'Cie, but as angry as Raines has made her in their time here in Garden, he's not one of them. She's seen the glow of his own Brand and the distinctive shape it takes the form of, and so regardless of him being the one who has actually managed to piss her off instead of being disliked simply for what he is...
A traitor is nearly as bad, and yet--
After what he said before, after what Rosch said and tried to do-- ]
Just... listen to me.
[ Her tone is uneven, as if those few words sorely hurt her just to force out. Her lungs really do sting like she's not getting enough air though, even though her breathing is deeper and a touch faster than baseline. As tense as she is, she still can't bring herself to drag her gaze up, and she pauses, abjectly miserable. ]
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[His words are clipped--exceptionally sharp.
There's an internal clock ticking. He's giving her his time, and if she doesn't start talking soon, he's leaving, irregardless of her request for him to stay and listen to her. Considering how she never listened to him, never bothered to listen to the logic of his words, it's probably a minor miracle that he's still bothering to pay attention to hers.
Were this a meeting several months before, Cid may have taken pity out of the way she stands, the way she's clearly not at peace with herself here, but he has no more sympathy left to give her. Does it matter that, for once, her tone contains none of the hate usually directed at him? No. It's too little too late.
He stares at her flatly, wishing his eyes could simply bore a hole through her mind and fish out the information himself. It would certainly save him some time at least.]
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Which is, of course, something she also gave up on already, trading her remaining opportunities for nothing but abrasiveness when it had also become clear nothing he said matched up with what she knew or wanted to hear.
Why should she care? Why does she care? Who knows, and again she's tempted to just turn around, forget she even tried to say anything more, and leave. Leave like she said she was going to.
... But, she can't. ]
Lieutenant Colonel Rosch was here, in Balamb.
[ She speaks very strangely when she finally forces the words out, very robotic, enunciating in a way that is both devoid of emotion and very nearly stripping out all emphasis on any one syllable over the others. The implications of the admission probably go without saying...
And immediately she hates herself for being pushed this far, for being so unsettled by the accusation she's not what she seems, that here she's issuing what could not just be taken as a warning to someone she's trained herself to hate, but is also far too telling about her and her problems and what's going on here.
She has a suspicion she knows exactly what conclusion he might jump to, after he's made it so abundantly clear he hates the fal'Cie- somehow he knows of Barthandelus, wears a Sanctum Brand, and yet apparently despises him in particular. So far, that's been absolutely nonsensical to her. Impossible under the circumstances she's familiar with.
Why is this happening?
And the most agitating thing is, if he manages to guess how terribly disastrous her run-in with her former superior was, based on her actions now, that she's apparently been kicked aside and painted an enemy and that's why she's upset... he'd be right. ]
no subject
No, clearly, the man she speaks of is from her world.
So if whatever words transpired between them brought Claire Farron to her knees like this, it must have been something quite... catastrophic. Cid's seen her fall apart at his words as well, managed to find quite a few kinks in her armor, but he has to admit that Rosch has done any amazing job with her. Really, he can only see them as having discussed one thing.
Barthandelus isn't the fal'Cie she thought him to be.]
And what, exactly, do you expect me to do?
[He offers her no sympathy. How long and how hard had he tried to get her to understand? At one point, Cid may have thought that this would have been a moment of joy for him--a victory in some ways to help her realize how truly awful Barthandelus is, but he feels nothing. The Pulse l'Cie would eventually triumph, one way or another in their stubborn quest, and she would die, just as the fal'Cie wanted her to.]
Why are you telling me this? I am, as you said, a traitor, am I not?
1/2
But of course, it's not like that at all, and Claire doesn't have an answer for him-- can't explain why she's talking now. She has no idea what to do here. None.
The fact that she's completely and utterly doomed is a conclusion she's already visited. If Rosch was lying, if he was a trick of some sort (which isn't out of the realm of possibility, given the influx of visitors with little better title than villains into this world), it... it still doesn't matter. The evidence is still there; the rules were changing even before Claire was whisked away to this place.
She's in major trouble. Should she return to her home as she is now, how is she supposed to explain the differences in her? And even if she could, how is she supposed to explain her involvement in the Palamecia, letting the Sanctum's flagship fall without the Pulse l'Cie going down with her? If Hope Estheim is alive, how is she supposed explain that?
And even if she were to bend to the possibility that she's been betrayed, that the Sanctum fal'Cie and the Pulse l'Cie aren't what she's been trained to believe over the course of her entire life... she's bound to be screwed there too. If she goes anywhere near 'her' l'Cie, she has zero doubts that they will kill her- just like she tried to do to them, and just like they'd tried to do to her before. If she turned herself in instead, relayed the fact that one of the l'Cie is her sister in an attempt to preempt any chances of looking like she's doing something she shouldn't, then there's also no telling what might happen... what the bonds between herself and her branding fal'Cie might be used for. If she defies her Focus, if that's even possible with the leash Barthandelus has on her in place, her Brand will advance and she will become a Cie'th.
In essence, she's a traitor, hosed no matter what she does, believes, or says. ]
Because...
[ She swallows, and her shoulders drop. There's no crying this time, but this is definitely a new low, as hopeless as the day her Brand disappeared and she was cornered on the street, half-wishing she would just die rather than face any truths that would finish tearing down her reason for living.
Honestly, she's never felt more lonely than she does now- confused and facing the prospect of the entire world turned against her-- she was supposed to be a hero! If she's meant to die a martyr with the wrong cause, then what's the point in not just giving up here? Why did she even bother peeling herself out of bed and curing away the evidence of hours of baffled despair, composing herself enough to go to the administration, pack up her things, and leave under a semblance of dignity...? ]
WHY/2
Because-- I want to save Cocoon.
[ Her voice is still weakened, remarkably broken compared to the usual, but at last she drags her gaze back up, the light in her eyes turning to fire. She's already snapped once, but abruptly she snaps again in a totally different way, and suddenly, this has very little to do with Rosch or what Raines actually just asked her. Her anger blazes, but it's broken and desperate and what the fuck else is she supposed to do? ]
You told me once... that you were prepared to suffer the hate of everyone.
[ Gritting her teeth furiously, she raises a hand to her chest, fingers clenching against her clothing and digging into the skin beneath them. Upset as she is, here's her real question- ]
Whose side are you on?
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[There's no hesitation in his answer, no need to even think about it for a moment. Certainly, he will not deny his own error in judgement when he'd allowed himself to think that this was no longer an option--that to fulfill his Focus was the only path that he could take, but that too has passed. Given the chance to repeat the entire affair again, Cid would have given himself up to become a Cie'th instead. Would he have tried to kill off the Pulse l'Cie as well? Perhaps.
Still, he does need to expand on that one little line he used on her in the past. Misguided she may be, but this is something he can spare the time and energy for.]
That said, there was a time when I was selfish and placed my own... interests before that of the citizens.
[He steps closer to her and drops his voice. Even now, this is something he prefers not to talk about, and if he were to have a choice, Cid would've preferred discussing it somewhere more private. It's certainly not his best moment and never will be; he takes no pride in it, would rather distance himself from that part of his past, if it were possible.]
I was charged with aiding the Pulse l'Cie, in guiding them along the path to become Ragnarok--that was my Focus. [Briefly, he looks away, his gaze landing solidly on his right hand. Cid feels anger well up within him; disgust is quick to follow.] I was prepared to be hated by everyone because I allowed myself to follow through with my Focus--obeyed the direction of my master. I was willing to let Cocoon fall to its ruin.
At the time, I thought crystal stasis to be better than death... than to become a Cie'th. [He shakes his head.] But I was wrong. To betray the people in such a manner is far worse.
[And so he'd gone off to try and kill the Pulse l'Cie. In hindsight, taking on all six of them at once was perhaps not the best of ideas, but desperate times called for desperate measures. To let them escape to Pulse meant that they were beyond his reach, and he scarcely had the time to pick them off in smaller groups--not that they often separated to begin with.
He clearly remembers watching his brand evolve that night, remembers it like it were just yesterday. Cid had been a dutiful servant to Barthandelus, had not been put through any physical hardship; he still had a fair amount of time to complete his Focus when he challenged the Pulse l'Cie. To watch it grow and change--so quickly, so drastically--as he pit his will against that of his master... It had been liberating to know that he finally controlled his life once more.
True, he had expected that night to be his end: to either become a Cie'th once he had slain the Pulse l'Cie or to die at their hands, but that had been his choice and his alone. A faint smile pulls at his lips at the thought, even if that plan, too, ended up being a failure.]
I challenged my Focus and I paid the price--[And he'll pay for it still, should he ever be returned home. Though, at this point, Cid considers the eternal rest of death a reward, not a punishment.]--but I would do it all over again if it would help the citizens of Cocoon. I have no regrets.
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Her chest clenches tight, and her hand doesn't leave its position pressed over her racing heart. A Sanctum l'Cie, with the Focus to protect Pulsian agents - the exact opposite of hers... he'd told her before that he'd known from the beginning that his Focus would do nothing but inspire ire in Cocoon's populace, but having it spelled out-- it doesn't make sense.
... And neither does that last claim. To challenge one's Focus is not just certain death for a l'Cie who attempts, but causes a fate worst than death. Everyone save for very small children knows that there's really no coming back from one being transformed into a Cie'th- the ultimate punishment for failure. A physical embodiment of eternal pain and regret.
Claire just closes her eyes. It really, really looks like she wants to reject this claim too, just as she has when hearing him say similar things so many times in the past. He can speak of siding with the people, but even if he's somehow sincere in that, she knows from experience that his implied proposal isn't what 'the people' want.
A fact nothing short of frustrating and a fine catalyst for even more confusion on the PSICOM officer's part. She turns her face away without responding at that, agitated and conflicted. It's hard to say what exactly getting an answer like that has accomplished, if anything at all.
-- Aside from still failing to cause her to blow up, that is. ]
no subject
Does that mean he expects her to understand and accept any of it? No. That's a different matter altogether, and one that he's content to let her stew over on her own.
A wry smile pulls at his lips. If he ever runs into Rosch again, either his or hers, he may just have to thank him for shaking her this badly. It is not a kind thought, no, but perhaps it's just the thing she needs to get some sense thrown back into her system. It's just a shame, he thinks, that he hadn't been there to witness the exchange in person; the lieutenant colonel has quite a vicious presence when he wants to.
Cid sighs and takes a step away from her.]
Is there anything else?
[Because if not, then he has nothing else to say. Cid's already told her more than he'd originally planned to when he first saw her leaving, and he, by no means, intends to stop her from going anywhere.]