Difference between revisions of "Black and White"

Latest revision as of 11:36, 28 February 2013

Evja sat for the longest time simply resting after his last match at the Hades Cup. Armor off and next to the Viera where he sat, it was generally a picture of quietness. A local clinic in Traverse Town where various White Mages and Doctors came in and out, here and there. Given some of the Hades Cup contestants had been getting roughed up, this last round of the cup had a special going on to get them some more business.

They got treated for free! For any event-related injuries anyways.

A little spacious room in the private clinic is actually where he was at the moment, along with Quistis, his team mate whom he had taken there for treatment as well. Tifa had decided to tough it out on her own and seemingly was going to be well enough, so all was well there. Sure, Evja could have gotten his own room, but he had memories from his time in his clan... times where the Viera got his ass handed to him in a fight or something, perhaps in some unadjudicated match. His clan was a little rough after all and sometimes took Jagd jobs.

It was always more comforting to have someone there with him when he awoke than simply left to get fixed. Even if he never really admitted it.

Plus it gave him time to think about things. Like the Hades Cup, or life. Or women. Not that he had any interest in things not Viera, but the thoughts did pass his mind from time to time. After all, recently, someone had made it known yet again(A normal happening for a Viera, they often get advanced upon) they had a thing for him. But it felt different somehow. This one seemed honest, because it was /him/, not... because of his female disguise, or because of his race. At least not fully.

It reminded the Viera of his old friend in Clan Verda(nt), Lia.

A Gria woman, markswoman of nearly unrivaled accuracy amongst the various clans of Jylland of the time. Despite all his effort in making it obvious he had no interest in any being outside his own kind, she still had that marked interest in him. And given his clan were the only ones who knew of the true gender beneath the guise... that interest, too, had to have been genuine.

Evja reclined his head back against the recliner he was in. Reaching down with his free hand, the lever was pulled and out popped the feet, other hand resting gently on the sleeping Seed Instructors shoulder while he attempted to give some measure of prevention to the 'Waking up alone recovering sucks' thing he used to experience from time to time, even if she wouldn't know it for a while. And for now, Evja just watched the ceiling, listening to the idle click of the clock hand moving forward a second at a time.

Lia was still out and alive. The Judges had mistaken her for gone, perished... presuming the body in the Jagd that was charred by 'Ken Moo's giga flare was actually her. Someone he had come to grudgingly accept was no more was still alive. Even if he'd seen her briefly within the announcers seat with that strange boy. Had Sanel taken her? Rescued her before the Judges came? Or was it something else?

So what does one do, when an old friend, someone who used to care for him so deeply... is alive?

Should he arrest her? She was, after all, an escaped threat to the very fabric of his world. She knew how to twist the laws, or at the least had knowingly benefited from them being twisted even if she didn't do it herself. But... this wasn't his world anymore. Would she even be that way without the rest of Verda there? She still wanted him dead, though, from what he got of the 'Bad pet' and him catching sight of her bow. He didn't blame the Gria, though.

He betrayed them. All of them.

'For the law.'

'For what is right.'

The pain of missing old friends came surging back into the Viera, tears rolling down his cheeks, much to his own surprise. Reaching a hand up to wipe them off, Evja shook his head only to sigh and say aloud, "I am such a fool for being unable to get over this." Still, he was with these people day in and out for years, over half a decade. They were his family and always would be, no matter what happened. A band of brothers and sisters he betrayed. Turned over for twisting the natural laws of the land.

But it was right.

But it was wrong.

A decision should either be Black or White, right or wrong. This inability to mark his own actions would likely haunt the Viera for some time further. But who could forgive him if not himself?