VAAN AND BASCH // Forgiveness in RabanastrearmorumvigilesJune 28 2011, 18:09:42 UTC
There’s an ease in the way Vaan moves along the busy alleys and corridors of Rabanastre’s seedy downtown, brilliant platinum-blond wading through Bangaa and Seeq and Hume of all ages and creeds. It’s easy, Vaan says in that slightly absentminded, always straightforward way of his-“the people here may be sketchy”-Vaan laughs, combing one hair through swept bangs-“ but they’re nice”, he states, simple and ineloquent and never second-guessing or considering the veracity of his claims. Basch is walking a few steps behind the younger boy, watching him move through dark corners and rank spaces with all the comfort of a fish in water, of someone who has seen persistence and a stubbornness for life, and recalls vaguely the first time he himself had waded through the underground of Dalmasca.
“Don’t get lost, Basch,” Vaan says, turning his head, his hands clasped behind his hair. It’s a ridiculous thing to warn Basch against, considering that the older man has walked the streets of this city equally as extensively as the aspiring sky pirate has, but the suggestion makes Basch’s expression soften as he replies with a quiet “I will not”. Forgiveness comes as easily to Vaan as his anger does, wavering back and forth on a see-saw where the fulcrum is quite firmly set in place. It’s your fault, he had screamed back in Nalbina, eyes that have seen death and grief unable to suppress thoughts that had been left to fester in a young mind. And why shouldn’t Vaan have done so? Basch finds no solace in the possibility that someone so young should be left to mature on a stranger’s terms.
What is done is done. Absolution is the last thing on Basch’s mind.
The two of them walk through the busy walkways and exit the space with thoughts of Bhujerba. The fates have willed it, is what Basch said with regards to their predicament-Vaan had looked at him, slightly annoyed but mostly reluctant, as if evaluating on which side of his measures of right and wrong Basch should fall under. It’s annoying, he had said when Basch stated their propensity towards finding each other, and yet Vaan had looked at him with his grey eyes (the coloration almost strangely inappropriate, considering how clear his gaze always seems to be), lips pursed in contemplation, consideration.
It would only be minutes later that Vaan would turn to Basch and say “don’t apologize, I believe you.”
And now the two of them are getting prepared for their journey, bags of items and appropriate armory in their hands, narrowing their eyes against the intensity of Dalmascan sun with all the practice of two people who have known and shared the same woes for months. There’s a sense of nostalgia when Basch looks at Vaan, Vaan with all the innocence of a boy his age, coupled with all the heartbreak that allows him to look at the huddled, ashen-faced figures in the Rabanastre downtown and laugh and call them good people, his family. Basch is reminded of his own first nights in the city, of quiet murmurs and concern from strangers, of being handed tattered blankets and morsels of food by orphans who brushed away dirt from his unkempt hair. He wonders where they are now, those children, and wonders if Vaan knows them, if the bright-faced youth will turn around and point them out and tell Basch that they’ve all stuck together through thick and thin.
The thought makes the former Captain smile, as Vaan turns again and tells Basch to keep up, eager steps already heading towards the Strahl, towards the future, towards signs of adventure. There’s a love of life there, in Vaan’s tone, and Basch closes his eyes against the brilliance of it all, never asking for forgiveness but quietly appreciating the moments where he feels that he might be receiving it.
“Don’t get lost, Basch,” Vaan says, turning his head, his hands clasped behind his hair. It’s a ridiculous thing to warn Basch against, considering that the older man has walked the streets of this city equally as extensively as the aspiring sky pirate has, but the suggestion makes Basch’s expression soften as he replies with a quiet “I will not”. Forgiveness comes as easily to Vaan as his anger does, wavering back and forth on a see-saw where the fulcrum is quite firmly set in place. It’s your fault, he had screamed back in Nalbina, eyes that have seen death and grief unable to suppress thoughts that had been left to fester in a young mind. And why shouldn’t Vaan have done so? Basch finds no solace in the possibility that someone so young should be left to mature on a stranger’s terms.
What is done is done. Absolution is the last thing on Basch’s mind.
The two of them walk through the busy walkways and exit the space with thoughts of Bhujerba. The fates have willed it, is what Basch said with regards to their predicament-Vaan had looked at him, slightly annoyed but mostly reluctant, as if evaluating on which side of his measures of right and wrong Basch should fall under. It’s annoying, he had said when Basch stated their propensity towards finding each other, and yet Vaan had looked at him with his grey eyes (the coloration almost strangely inappropriate, considering how clear his gaze always seems to be), lips pursed in contemplation, consideration.
It would only be minutes later that Vaan would turn to Basch and say “don’t apologize, I believe you.”
And now the two of them are getting prepared for their journey, bags of items and appropriate armory in their hands, narrowing their eyes against the intensity of Dalmascan sun with all the practice of two people who have known and shared the same woes for months. There’s a sense of nostalgia when Basch looks at Vaan, Vaan with all the innocence of a boy his age, coupled with all the heartbreak that allows him to look at the huddled, ashen-faced figures in the Rabanastre downtown and laugh and call them good people, his family. Basch is reminded of his own first nights in the city, of quiet murmurs and concern from strangers, of being handed tattered blankets and morsels of food by orphans who brushed away dirt from his unkempt hair. He wonders where they are now, those children, and wonders if Vaan knows them, if the bright-faced youth will turn around and point them out and tell Basch that they’ve all stuck together through thick and thin.
The thought makes the former Captain smile, as Vaan turns again and tells Basch to keep up, eager steps already heading towards the Strahl, towards the future, towards signs of adventure. There’s a love of life there, in Vaan’s tone, and Basch closes his eyes against the brilliance of it all, never asking for forgiveness but quietly appreciating the moments where he feels that he might be receiving it.
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