[ the slight jostling in order to get her into his arms is enough to begin the process of waking her up, though at first she's not entirely there yet, and thus goes along with his actions. she exhales softly — comfortably — with a smile as her arms move on their own to their usual position, as though she never even went so long without him in her life.
there's a soft 'mmnn' as she does, leaning herself into him just as she would as a child. he's warm, soft, strong — and that voice of his rumbles low from his chest just as she'd remembered. ]
Dad... [ the first time she says it, it's soft and full of affection. she's still mostly in the dream, but she's coming out of it here. her fingers twitch against him, she breathes again, and then she speaks, her voice breaking ever so slightly from the sadness that seeps in — the vague recollection of his absence overtaking the dream's ability to convince her he's here. ] Dad...
[ and then she's half-startling awake, a soft gasp as her mind catches up with things, her eyes opening to look right up at him him with bleariness, a hint of sadness (as she's wont to display when waking up to reality), and then...
a high-pitched shout and involuntary shoving, as she throws herself backward from him and if he doesn't already have his arms around her firmly enough, she's going to fall right back off her chair in the process of all of this.
sorry she just didn't know what to do in the moment and there's no way this could be her dad, she was dreaming and he's not alive anymore and surely it's a monster or sick trickster or something else. ]
[ There's a thing he never thought he'd hear again, and the sadness in it breaks his heart. It has always been a matter of time, for them. One day Cid would leave and he wouldn't come back, and that has been true since she was a babe in arms. That doesn't mean that guilt doesn't swell in his chest all the same.
When she starts flailing, it's instinct that kicks in before anything else. Cid holds her tighter. ]
Midadol -- Midadol, that's enough.
[ He puts as much authority as he can in his tone; it was rare to do it even when she was a child — not unless her life was in danger or somesuch — but it usually meant that he could get her to listen when he did. As soon as he's certain she's got her balance again, he lets her go, hands up and open as he backs off a step or two.
He's played this conversation over in his mind hundreds of times, and yet Cid finds himself at a loss before his daughter. He doesn't stumble over his words, but each one feels as if he's fighting against the thickness in his throat. ]
...You're a lighter sleeper than you used to be. [ He smiles, the expression pinched tight. It's definitely one of his worst, as far as apologies go. ] I know Clive makes for a handsome Cid, but you can't have forgotten my face already.
[ He has no doubt that her scream will draw any Cursebreakers who haven't been caught up by Dorys, but hopefully he's got enough time to talk to her before one of them has a mind to put an arrow in his back. ]
[ he certainly deserves an arrow in his back for leaving her and putting her through all this!
she flinches a bit, almost nervously, at the way his voice fills with authority — a sort of instant reminder to any time he'd do it when she was a child. for a kid, it's difficult to shake the way one reacts to their parent taking a stern tone. she has to actively bring herself back into the moment, realize where she is, how old she is, and who she's with.
right, who she's with. the world over knows "cid", whether it be clive's version of him or his own, but anyone would be hard pressed to know this side of him — the side reserved for his daughter, for someone close to him. his authoritative tone, his softness, his intonations, his knowledge of her sleep—
she takes a shaky, cautious breath to keep herself from jumping out of her skin from all that she's feeling, looking him over as he speaks, discerning eyes scanning every inch of him and landing locked on his own. it's him. it's really, truly him. she can feel it deep in her bones.
and in a split second, she goes from sitting haphazardly on that chair, to practically jumping into his chest, arms locking around his torso tighter than her tiny arms ever seemed like they could — blink and you'd miss her movement. she's never been one to hold herself back from anything, and seeing him here in front of her was just... too much for her to sit by and merely "inspect". she doesn't think about her actions for event a moment, just does them. ]
Y-... Ya got three seconds to explain to me what's goin' on here. [ her voice is shaky, but there's a hint of forced authority back at him. she feels entitled to this information, thanks. ] And— to come up with a better apology.
[ because thus far it sucks. he might need to apologize to her every day for the next year for it to count. ]
[ On second thought, Cid would sooner take the arrow than the way she's looking at him. For a brief and ridiculous moment, he wonders if she'll find some part of him amiss — some blemish on his body or soul that marks him as something other than her father. It's not as if he understands how this magic works; it's not as if he can know that he's really himself, plucked from the lifestream by Clive's own hand, or if he's some sort of restless aetheric phantom, gone the moment someone sees him for what he—
And then she's thrown herself into his arms, her grip just shy of painful, and the world seems to set itself right again. She's gotten so strong, like he knew she would. Cid is too stunned to move for a moment, but then he holds her just as tight, turning to press a kiss to her temple. Her scolding shakes a laugh out of him, but it feels heavy in his chest, pushing a few stray tears from his eyes. ]
That's my girl... Gods, you're so big now. I'll be looking up at you before long, eh? [ He'd teased her before, about how they'd have to make statues of her before that happened. She'd been even smaller then, standing on his work table and barely reaching his face. Now look at her.
But she's right, it's a fair enough question. He owes her as much. ] I'll spend what's left of my life making it up to you — how's that, for a start?
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there's a soft 'mmnn' as she does, leaning herself into him just as she would as a child. he's warm, soft, strong — and that voice of his rumbles low from his chest just as she'd remembered. ]
Dad... [ the first time she says it, it's soft and full of affection. she's still mostly in the dream, but she's coming out of it here. her fingers twitch against him, she breathes again, and then she speaks, her voice breaking ever so slightly from the sadness that seeps in — the vague recollection of his absence overtaking the dream's ability to convince her he's here. ] Dad...
[ and then she's half-startling awake, a soft gasp as her mind catches up with things, her eyes opening to look right up at him him with bleariness, a hint of sadness (as she's wont to display when waking up to reality), and then...
a high-pitched shout and involuntary shoving, as she throws herself backward from him and if he doesn't already have his arms around her firmly enough, she's going to fall right back off her chair in the process of all of this.
sorry she just didn't know what to do in the moment and there's no way this could be her dad, she was dreaming and he's not alive anymore and surely it's a monster or sick trickster or something else. ]
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When she starts flailing, it's instinct that kicks in before anything else. Cid holds her tighter. ]
Midadol -- Midadol, that's enough.
[ He puts as much authority as he can in his tone; it was rare to do it even when she was a child — not unless her life was in danger or somesuch — but it usually meant that he could get her to listen when he did. As soon as he's certain she's got her balance again, he lets her go, hands up and open as he backs off a step or two.
He's played this conversation over in his mind hundreds of times, and yet Cid finds himself at a loss before his daughter. He doesn't stumble over his words, but each one feels as if he's fighting against the thickness in his throat. ]
...You're a lighter sleeper than you used to be. [ He smiles, the expression pinched tight. It's definitely one of his worst, as far as apologies go. ] I know Clive makes for a handsome Cid, but you can't have forgotten my face already.
[ He has no doubt that her scream will draw any Cursebreakers who haven't been caught up by Dorys, but hopefully he's got enough time to talk to her before one of them has a mind to put an arrow in his back. ]
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she flinches a bit, almost nervously, at the way his voice fills with authority — a sort of instant reminder to any time he'd do it when she was a child. for a kid, it's difficult to shake the way one reacts to their parent taking a stern tone. she has to actively bring herself back into the moment, realize where she is, how old she is, and who she's with.
right, who she's with. the world over knows "cid", whether it be clive's version of him or his own, but anyone would be hard pressed to know this side of him — the side reserved for his daughter, for someone close to him. his authoritative tone, his softness, his intonations, his knowledge of her sleep—
she takes a shaky, cautious breath to keep herself from jumping out of her skin from all that she's feeling, looking him over as he speaks, discerning eyes scanning every inch of him and landing locked on his own. it's him. it's really, truly him. she can feel it deep in her bones.
and in a split second, she goes from sitting haphazardly on that chair, to practically jumping into his chest, arms locking around his torso tighter than her tiny arms ever seemed like they could — blink and you'd miss her movement. she's never been one to hold herself back from anything, and seeing him here in front of her was just... too much for her to sit by and merely "inspect". she doesn't think about her actions for event a moment, just does them. ]
Y-... Ya got three seconds to explain to me what's goin' on here. [ her voice is shaky, but there's a hint of forced authority back at him. she feels entitled to this information, thanks. ] And— to come up with a better apology.
[ because thus far it sucks. he might need to apologize to her every day for the next year for it to count. ]
no subject
And then she's thrown herself into his arms, her grip just shy of painful, and the world seems to set itself right again. She's gotten so strong, like he knew she would. Cid is too stunned to move for a moment, but then he holds her just as tight, turning to press a kiss to her temple. Her scolding shakes a laugh out of him, but it feels heavy in his chest, pushing a few stray tears from his eyes. ]
That's my girl... Gods, you're so big now. I'll be looking up at you before long, eh? [ He'd teased her before, about how they'd have to make statues of her before that happened. She'd been even smaller then, standing on his work table and barely reaching his face. Now look at her.
But she's right, it's a fair enough question. He owes her as much. ] I'll spend what's left of my life making it up to you — how's that, for a start?