(Untitled)
· WHO: Dr. Cid (researchcrazed) and Five-Year-Old-Balthier, Ffamran (andliesiweave· WHAT: Dr. Cid was attacked by Kanda during the Christmas Event, but this isn't going to be the biggest surprise he gets for the day
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But he had managed to escape relatively unscathed, as such things went, though he certainly wasn't in the best shape and he could do with sitting and resting for a good long while after that. He could be grateful, he supposed, that Kanda hadn't found the mirror shard that still occupied his pocket. If Ffamran had indeed been correct about the mirror having something to do with these attacks... Ah, but he didn't really want to think much about that, or anything else, for the moment. Barely conscious of his surroundings, he moved toward the nearest chair. To his surprise, though, when he got to the chair, he found a young face peeking around it. A very familiar face.
Ffamran's face. As if he were five years old.
He simply stared for a moment, wide-eyed, then brought a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes for a moment. Hallucinations... I must be worse off than I had thought... He shook his head lightly, hoping to clear it, and opened his eyes again, expecting the image to have vanished.
But the boy was still there.
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And anyway it didn't matter - the fact his father was here meant he was not kidnapped, so he walked out from behind the chair.
For the briefest of moments it looked as if he was going to reach other and hug his father, but he stopped when he realized there was Something Wrong. And his father was hurt.
"D-daddy?" He managed, quietly, as his eyes widened in shock, "What happened to you?"
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This must be an illusion of some sort, he thought, or perhaps a dream. Perhaps in reality I am not at all well. Perhaps I am truly still in the bathroom lying unconscious on the floor and this is all a very strange dream. Perhaps...
But were I dreaming, would I be able to have these thoughts?
And beyond that, there was no doubting the pain that remained from Kanda's attack. So something strange was happening indeed, and while he was still unconvinced that it was not something strange going on in his head, it was certainly not a dream.
All of a sudden, he found himself feeling particularly lightheaded, and gripped the back of the chair to steady himself. When his vision again focused fully, he peered at the boy curiously for a moment, processing the question he had asked, then chuckled oddly and attempted to force a small smile.
"It's just a few scratches. I'll be fine," he replied, in a tone dismissive, yet hopefully somewhat comforting. It was, of course, an understatement of his condition, but if the boy was in fact somehow real, there was no need for him to worry about it.
"I would, however, like to sit down," Cid added wearily, finally sliding into the seat of the chair.
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He ran around the table to sit across from Cid, swinging his legs off the chair as they obviously did not reach the ground. He had so many questions, but didn't know where to start.
And although probably his father would scold him for it, he just headed off all the questions at once.
"Where are we?" He began, "Someone said we were kidnapped but I'm not sure that was true and you're here so it can't be true so I walked around a lot and then I found a graveyard and it was really scary and there was snow everywhere and I went back," he took a deep breath of air, cutting this so far run on sentence before starting again, "and I walked around until I got here but there were shouts in the other room so I hid behind the chair but then you came in and I'm safe now, right?" Another breath, " Oh and there are Viera here, Daddy, two of them."
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Do not look so weak in front of the boy, he told himself after a second, and forced himself to sit upright again. He gave the child a blank look, debating what he was intended to say to those questions. He began with the obvious.
"We are in a house. We are," he paused, not quite sure how to identify what was going on to what appeared to be a five-year-old Ffamran, "guests here. Though the owner does not often make appearances." That was as good as any explanation, for now. "And yes, you are safe." For the moment, anyway, he thought wryly.
He chose not to make any particular comment about the Viera. I should think you would be quite well acquainted with at least one of them, he mentally commented, but chose not to say aloud. This child clearly had none of "Balthier"'s memories, and besides, it was apparent enough that the most pressing question of the lot was the one regarding his safety.
He did wonder why he was even bothering to attempt consoling the boy. He still had no way of knowing whether the boy was Ffamran (though he could think of no way that should be possible... then again, he could think of no particular reason he should be alive in this place, either), or whether the boy was indeed real and not some trick being played on him either by his mind or by some outside source. And if it was some trick, would it not be better to simply ignore it?
But if it was, somehow, Ffamran... He sighed, thoroughly confused, and closed his eyes again briefly, willing the strange apparition to go away, but opened them to the now expected sight of a curious young face still peering at him across the table.
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"Are there lots of people here?" he wondered. Linaly, Ed, Fran, and Mjrn.
...And whoever had been shouting. He tried not to think about that, closing his eyes tight for a moment as if that would stop him from thinking of it.
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"Yes, there are many people here." He wondered, briefly, if any others were being affected by whatever was producing the illusion of his five-year-old son. "Tell me, Ffamran," he asked softly, "Have you found any other children about to play with?" It was a simple enough question, and not necessarily telling, but perhaps the answer would give some clue about whatever strange thing was going on.
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