![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
FFX: The Stronger One
Fandom: Final Fantasy X
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: What decided Braska. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
over_look.
He likes to think his wife -- what happened to her, at least -- decided him, made him take the path he has and become a summoner. Looking up at the faces of the statues, though, he remembers the incident that really got to him. Incident, he says, but it was more than just an incident. It was the utter wreck and ruin of his life, his home -- for the first time. He was seven at the time.
His mother died. His older brother, too. Sin came, as Sin does, and ripped apart his home, ripped apart his whole town. They always lived in fear of that, of course -- half expected it, the whole time -- but they were never ready for it, there was never any escape plan, never any back up, and they all seemed to believe that there was no escape -- no escape but the Calm.
Braska watched the summoner dance to send the souls of his family, watching the dizzying sway of the staff, the supple bend of the young woman's body as she bent, the tears in her eyes that streaked down her cheeks as she flung her arms up. She seemed to him horribly beautiful, and horribly remote, and terribly strong.
He thought it a waste when he learned she'd turned aside from her pilgrimage. As he'd watched in awe as she danced, so he struggled with the idea of her giving up and giving in. And quietly, to himself, he resolved that he'd never give up as she did.
Patience and understanding has come to him, with time. He understands her tears, her fear and her eventual surrender to it.
But he's still not going to give up on this path as she did.
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: What decided Braska. For
over_look.He likes to think his wife -- what happened to her, at least -- decided him, made him take the path he has and become a summoner. Looking up at the faces of the statues, though, he remembers the incident that really got to him. Incident, he says, but it was more than just an incident. It was the utter wreck and ruin of his life, his home -- for the first time. He was seven at the time.
His mother died. His older brother, too. Sin came, as Sin does, and ripped apart his home, ripped apart his whole town. They always lived in fear of that, of course -- half expected it, the whole time -- but they were never ready for it, there was never any escape plan, never any back up, and they all seemed to believe that there was no escape -- no escape but the Calm.
Braska watched the summoner dance to send the souls of his family, watching the dizzying sway of the staff, the supple bend of the young woman's body as she bent, the tears in her eyes that streaked down her cheeks as she flung her arms up. She seemed to him horribly beautiful, and horribly remote, and terribly strong.
He thought it a waste when he learned she'd turned aside from her pilgrimage. As he'd watched in awe as she danced, so he struggled with the idea of her giving up and giving in. And quietly, to himself, he resolved that he'd never give up as she did.
Patience and understanding has come to him, with time. He understands her tears, her fear and her eventual surrender to it.
But he's still not going to give up on this path as she did.
no subject