Disclaimer: Ideas/Characters not mine, Writing mine.
Notes: Written for thesandsea on LJ. Thanks to logistikanyx for getting me back into this. My writing has tended to be in the form of roleplaying recently and I sort of missed the ficcing, as well as the Dr. Cid. Yes, that was a horrible sentence. I really don't know who is talking in this story. Maybe those little voices that appear every once in a while to prattle at you about everything you've ever done wrong.
Summary: Dr. Cid, Balthier, and the things that haunt them both.
Challenge: word of the day:
obdurate \OB-duh-rit; -dyuh-\, adjective:
Hardened in wrongdoing; stubbornly wicked. Hardened in feelings;
2. Resistant to persuasion; unyielding.
3. Hard; harsh; rugged; rough.
To the father:
You're running out of time.
Life is too short to take a break. Too short to forsake what matters for other things that also matter. You have something to accomplish and limited days to do so. You are preoccupied with your obdurate persistence.
With him, you can do nothing but watch. Watch as he walks like you do, speaks like you do, and as his features betray more and more hints of yourself as he grows. Watch as he walks away and refuses to look back. You are undeniably a part of him.
So why are you not a part of his life?
To the son:
You're running away.
Life is too short to fiddle with the trivialities of obligation and responsibility. You have forsaken the things that once mattered for the things that grant you freedom. You have nothing to accomplish, and you prefer it that way.
For him, you no longer have words. There was a time when you tried. You realize now it was a frivolous task. He did not care for you, and you will have nothing to do with him. You are yourself, and yourself only. Your words, your actions, your manner of dress; they are not his.
So why is it your father who stares back at you every time you look in a mirror?