[When she doesn't respond, when she seems to stiffen and the winds feel stronger instead, a different kind of urgency swells up as he quickly steps up to her, hand tightening around the call to try and grasp more of it, the coldness of it only increasing that sense of dread.]
Benna—!?
[And then whatever bit of control is lost. First it's the cannon fire that forces him to let go in surprise when the rocks loosen and crumble near the, and then—]
Benedikta, no—!
[A futile shout when she rushes off into her rampage. He tries to follow, but the discarded and dismembered bodies block him, leaving him to stand and watch helplessly as Benedikta releases her rage. And yet...
...
And yet as much as he worries that she will lose herself completely, there is something else.
Envy.
It's a...small feeling.
But it's a thorn that digs into a part that rarely sees light. A part that remains locked deep, deep down. A part of him that wishes he could do the same. To drive his sword into all the ones who tortured and killed so many innocents here, to let them be touched by the crystal and left to rot in their self made prison. To make them feel the pain and suffering, the slow deaths that many were forced into. And not even just the people here, but the lives so needlessly lost to the curse, as stone slowly ate away a their lives, their bodies, their wills.
And for what?
For what reason but cruel vanity?
Put on display for their own sick and twisted greed.
So yes, there is envy.
There is a boiling frustration that makes him wish for once that he could draw on his Eikon and level this land. To mete out judgment and let them all burn with the light of a thousand sounds, reduce it all to rubble and ash in ways only lightning can. A desire that stirs the normally dormant Eikon where the rumbling is felt through his bones, in his mind. A desire so rare it could be count on one hand he actually felt such an intense sway towards the power he had grown to resent.
So there is, for a few moments, a darkening in Cid's eyes, in his gaze, the usual clarity and clear thinking that keeps him level headed and aware of any situation gone. A sense of indifference and uncaring, a hollowness that is rarely if ever seen. Even as Benedikta destroys the last of them, as her powers recede and her gasping cries fill the air, he remains where he stands just... Watching. As if a completely different person, humanity slipping away.
But when she turns and he sees those tears, the water smearing through the blood, again he is reminded of that fateful day and something else surges through him. It makes something crack, and his legs move before he realizes it to cover the bloody, mangled distance between them until his arm is around her and pulling her to him.
He doesn't say anything, because what can he say? Envious as he had been, he had also felt guilt. An immense guilt towards her for putting her through this, making her see him like this and reminding her of his own cursed fate before his death. The guilt of being a catalyst that pushed her into this state once more.
And...
A guilt for that envy as well as a sort of gratitude that she was able to destroy what he could not. A guilt for this dark, selfish feelings that should not exist and that he will, as always, repress instead. Surely should she know she may not judge him, but she would worry more and he has already done enough.]
no subject
Benna—!?
[And then whatever bit of control is lost. First it's the cannon fire that forces him to let go in surprise when the rocks loosen and crumble near the, and then—]
Benedikta, no—!
[A futile shout when she rushes off into her rampage. He tries to follow, but the discarded and dismembered bodies block him, leaving him to stand and watch helplessly as Benedikta releases her rage. And yet...
...
And yet as much as he worries that she will lose herself completely, there is something else.
Envy.
It's a...small feeling.
But it's a thorn that digs into a part that rarely sees light. A part that remains locked deep, deep down. A part of him that wishes he could do the same. To drive his sword into all the ones who tortured and killed so many innocents here, to let them be touched by the crystal and left to rot in their self made prison. To make them feel the pain and suffering, the slow deaths that many were forced into. And not even just the people here, but the lives so needlessly lost to the curse, as stone slowly ate away a their lives, their bodies, their wills.
And for what?
For what reason but cruel vanity?
Put on display for their own sick and twisted greed.
So yes, there is envy.
There is a boiling frustration that makes him wish for once that he could draw on his Eikon and level this land. To mete out judgment and let them all burn with the light of a thousand sounds, reduce it all to rubble and ash in ways only lightning can. A desire that stirs the normally dormant Eikon where the rumbling is felt through his bones, in his mind. A desire so rare it could be count on one hand he actually felt such an intense sway towards the power he had grown to resent.
So there is, for a few moments, a darkening in Cid's eyes, in his gaze, the usual clarity and clear thinking that keeps him level headed and aware of any situation gone. A sense of indifference and uncaring, a hollowness that is rarely if ever seen. Even as Benedikta destroys the last of them, as her powers recede and her gasping cries fill the air, he remains where he stands just... Watching. As if a completely different person, humanity slipping away.
But when she turns and he sees those tears, the water smearing through the blood, again he is reminded of that fateful day and something else surges through him. It makes something crack, and his legs move before he realizes it to cover the bloody, mangled distance between them until his arm is around her and pulling her to him.
He doesn't say anything, because what can he say? Envious as he had been, he had also felt guilt. An immense guilt towards her for putting her through this, making her see him like this and reminding her of his own cursed fate before his death. The guilt of being a catalyst that pushed her into this state once more.
And...
A guilt for that envy as well as a sort of gratitude that she was able to destroy what he could not. A guilt for this dark, selfish feelings that should not exist and that he will, as always, repress instead. Surely should she know she may not judge him, but she would worry more and he has already done enough.]