ROFL, the hilarity, it makes me cry...

Bloody Murder

There are too many things wrong with this picture.

Loving eyes, linked arms, the Yevon-forbid hand holding, Cid realizes this is a cruel prank on his old age. Yuna invited him for tea on one innocent day in Bevelle to discuss the very means of his assassination; marriage.

Ballsy, but that's my niece for ya. It runs in the family.

Her fiancé– he has the same smug look like that Guado freak of nature, that same cute smile and that same accursed kindness– he's too good to be true. What happened to that other kid? Stupidly blonde, though I'm one to talk, and a miracle-maker. I liked that guy.

"What are you staring at?" Ultimate sneer of the millennium. Baralai seems unfazed by his hostility– look at him lift his tea cup with his pinkie finger raised and smiling all polite-like– taking a dainty sip, frowning slightly in concern.

"You look upset."

Cid ignores him– I'll get nowhere insulting the saintly temper of a priest, they're built with low self-esteem to handle anything stick-and-stones related– and opts to bully Yuna instead. Bully her to make the right choice. The best freakin choice on this corrupted side of the freakin planet.

"Does it have to be him?"

"Uncle. Please, that's rude."

Oh no, she didn't just use that tone on me!

"Yuna! Really?" He beseeches his niece's sanity and horrific taste in girly men; it's like dealing with his sister all over again. Like that damn Braska fiasco. Why won't the past stop haunting me?

"Yes, Cid. Really." Yuna's eyes for the moment cease to be benevolent and passive, but bold and steely, sharp as Auron's Masamune. "We are very much in love, and I'm not sorry if I may have disappointed you."

"Yuna, you've gotta understand. He's the head honcho of Yevonites everywhere! And let me tell ya, there's a lot of em."

"You treat him as if he's the mafia."

"He is the mafia!"

"Baralai wishes the best for Spira as do I and everyone else–."

"That's what he wants you to think. Stop ogling him at face value and be serious–."

"I am serious. We are planning on marrying this following Spring equinox–."

"Remember how the first one went?" Cid knows he hit a low blow on that one, but he's determined to use any psychological means possible to change her mind, better yet her heart– forever. "Your Guardians and I had to save your ass! And that's saying something."

"I proposed to him, and I did it of my own free will. I expected you to understand, Uncle, even though Rikku and Aniki have told me otherwise. You've had a wife and raised your own kids..." Yuna trails off, unexpectedly bringing out the waterworks, the real waterworks, and a lump grows in Cid's throat the size of Mt. Gagazet.

"Now, now everyone," Baralai stands from his lawn chair, smile lukewarm and strained and diplomatic and downright murderous, detaching his fingers from Yuna's shaking grip, stroking her head while giving Cid the evil eye. "We shouldn't allow this argument to grow out of hand, shall we?"

"You. Sit. Now." Cid nearly pokes Baralai's eye out when standing loudly to resonate absolute nonsensical authority; in other words, a man's race-abused pride and super-inflated ego.

"Sir." Baralai scowls, standing tall, taller than him by an inch, 'politely' grabbing his offending hand. "I'd rather you not touch me–."

"Or else what? Soil your expensive robes?" Cid likewise returns the vein-popping squeeze, sneering in annoyance when Baralai doesn't so much as flinch. They indulge in a glaring contest, striving to win a midair arm-wrestling match. "Look, kid, you may have a pretty face, but that won't get you far in respect points. You'll do as I say as long as I'm your family–."

Force suddenly lax, no longer resisting the vice grip of death, Baralai looks as if he's about to cry in joy, smiling like a fallen angel. "So you've given us your blessings."

Cid's eye twitches, mouth parted in mortification. Oh, of all the–!


Sin, poison me now...