![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
FFVIII: Dead and Gone
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Seifer explains to his daughter what he did in the war. For Clio, the Greek muse of history.
Seifer's daughter looks a bit like him. If she had a scar across her face, the resemblance would be more obvious, though even Seifer's scar has faded now to a pale line. Her hair is a little lighter than his, but her eyes are the same kind of green and when she smirks, the resemblance is uncanny. He would be hard-pressed to admit it, but he adores her, and he can't seem to deny her anything that she wants.
He knows that will be the case even when she asks what he has been considering for years the question, more scary even than sex ed: "Why do people hate you?" -- or worse, "why did you go with the sorceress?", or "what happened during that war you were in?"
When she does ask it, though, at the age of eight, sat on his lap despite the fact that she's getting too big to do that, and curled up against him, head on his shoulder... well, it's easy to tell her.
"My sorceress controlled me," he says, softly. "At first, she didn't, but then gradually... She made me do bad things, and then controlled me because I felt bad for them. Like when you dropped those plates, so I made you wash the dishes, but worse."
He half expects her to ask him how he dares to do that to her when he knows how manipulative and horrible it is -- but she remains quiet, and he almost thinks she's asleep. Perhaps, he thinks, she's not old enough yet.
"I did some terrible things. I tortured Commander Leonhart, I killed people, I..."
"It's okay, Papa," she says, looking up at him with those green, green eyes. She smiles, a serious little smile that makes him want to laugh because it is so very consciously serious. "That's all in the past. I won't be afraid of you, even if you did really really bad things. It's all... like the stuff I learn in history lessons. It's all dead and gone like the old guys."
He has to laugh, and he crushes her close in a great big hug, even when she squirms and squeals for him to let her go.
"Thank you," he says, when he lets go, and she makes a face as if she has no idea what he's talking about, and slides off his lap to go and play with her doll.
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Seifer explains to his daughter what he did in the war. For Clio, the Greek muse of history.
Seifer's daughter looks a bit like him. If she had a scar across her face, the resemblance would be more obvious, though even Seifer's scar has faded now to a pale line. Her hair is a little lighter than his, but her eyes are the same kind of green and when she smirks, the resemblance is uncanny. He would be hard-pressed to admit it, but he adores her, and he can't seem to deny her anything that she wants.
He knows that will be the case even when she asks what he has been considering for years the question, more scary even than sex ed: "Why do people hate you?" -- or worse, "why did you go with the sorceress?", or "what happened during that war you were in?"
When she does ask it, though, at the age of eight, sat on his lap despite the fact that she's getting too big to do that, and curled up against him, head on his shoulder... well, it's easy to tell her.
"My sorceress controlled me," he says, softly. "At first, she didn't, but then gradually... She made me do bad things, and then controlled me because I felt bad for them. Like when you dropped those plates, so I made you wash the dishes, but worse."
He half expects her to ask him how he dares to do that to her when he knows how manipulative and horrible it is -- but she remains quiet, and he almost thinks she's asleep. Perhaps, he thinks, she's not old enough yet.
"I did some terrible things. I tortured Commander Leonhart, I killed people, I..."
"It's okay, Papa," she says, looking up at him with those green, green eyes. She smiles, a serious little smile that makes him want to laugh because it is so very consciously serious. "That's all in the past. I won't be afraid of you, even if you did really really bad things. It's all... like the stuff I learn in history lessons. It's all dead and gone like the old guys."
He has to laugh, and he crushes her close in a great big hug, even when she squirms and squeals for him to let her go.
"Thank you," he says, when he lets go, and she makes a face as if she has no idea what he's talking about, and slides off his lap to go and play with her doll.
no subject
no subject